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Jerry Jones: Call Johnny Football — Why Dallas Should Pick Up Manziel

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A gaunt man is sitting alone at a square glass table, shades open illuminating a sunrise over the crystal blue water. He’s heavily tattooed, a self imagined caucasian Tony Montana challenging Sean White for supremacy on the slopes. Behind him, a trail of discarded liquor bottles, rolled hundred dollar bills, and NWA sized yellow gold chains leads to two fully nude Instagram models sprawled across the California king bed.

Suddenly, this oasis of unblemished tranquility is threatened: the phone rings once, then again, and a third time. The man rises from the table, wobbling towards the landline he had forgotten existed, as the silicone enhanced “brand ambassadors” toss under the covers amidst the shrieking ring. He stammers to the phone, smacking both dimes on the ass as the final ring fills the room.

He answers: “who the fuck is this and how do you have this number?” He pulls several artificial sweetener packets from his pocket, laying them on the table as the girls awaken eagerly. Apparently they can’t take their morning coffee without a heavy dose of Splenda.

“Hello?” he repeats and the women indulge, setting up what looks to be the start of a promising Brazzers video.

“This is Jerry Jones, Tony is hurt. We need some magic down here in Dallas, you still have it in you, Johnny?”

Manziel sheds the “escorts” like Crimson Tide tacklers, throwing up a Heisman pose as he stiff arms their thirst down the hallway as he sprints towards the airport.

“Mr. Jones, let’s wreck this league,” he proclaims while commandeering an incapacitated Charlie Sheen’s Gulf Stream.

Or, at least, that’s how I’m guessing the conversation between Johnny Football and America’s most well known owner/general manager would unfold. Manziel, who now seems more likely to end up on a milk carton than an NFL roster, has kept a somewhat lower profile since his offseason of career-ending debauchery, likely balls deep in assorted women the rest of us wish would reciprocate our repeated Instagram likes.

This may sound insane, and it probably is, but there’s no fucking way Johnny is worse than Dak Prescott, at least if the transitive theory of Saban exists. The Cowboys are a franchise that welcomed Greg Hardy, a man responsible for heinous antics far worse than any hard partying immaturity Manziel has displayed. The star running back wore a cut off dress shirt to the NFL Draft. The now injured quarterback took of to Mexico with Jessica Simpson before a playoff game. The Cowboys drafted Randy Gregory, who failed more tests with his urine than in the classroom while at Nebraska.

Shit, just Google the owner himself and women one third his age. This situation couldn’t be more perfect for the comeback.

Manziel at one time possessed elite talent, an innate ability to anticipate and ad lib magnificently as the play broke down, befuddling some of the greatest defenses and defensive minds in the nation. I’ve seen the posters in my doctor’s office about what substances can do to the brain, that’s a definite concern, but it’s not like the kid wasn’t knee deep in the same vices while in Aggieland, right?

The Cowboys are 10-23 in the last decade without Tony Romo — a staggering winning percentage of 28. Conversely, they’ve been one of the NFL’s most consistent franchises with him, winning nearly two thirds of their overall games. This is the same Johnny Manziel, I think, that Jerry Jones had to be restrained from drafting in 2014, even as now Pro Bowl lineman Zack Martin stared Dallas in the face, looking to fill a position they direly needed filled. Jerry still wanted Johnny.

And I think he still does. All kidding aside, if somebody can clean this kid up he deserves a shot somewhere, sometime. While it is not likely it will be Dallas, it is undeniable his skill set paired with the Cowboys’ dynamic pass catchers, a budding star at running back, and the league’s most dominant offensive line, could be the second coming of late ’90s Rams “greatest show on turf.”

The Cowboys are set to languish in yet another 6-10 to 8-8 type season, falling further behind a much improved New York Giants team, and the Redskins coming off of a playoff berth under that guy who looks just like Jon Gruden. At this point, with Romo out until at least mid-season, but likely longer and apt to re-injury upon return, the Cowboys risk essentially nothing by adding Manziel to the training camp roster, even if he is suspended indefinitely by the league.

If Adrian Peterson can rebound from beating his child with a stick to the number #1 spot on your fantasy draft board, Ryan Lochte can slander an entire nation and end up on Dancing With the Stars, Michael Phelps can get more DUIs than Chuck Sheen and become the greatest olympian ever, and Ray Lewis can kill a guy (look it up) and retire an NFL hero, then Johnny Football can realize his potential after indulging too much.

This town, and this league, love a comeback. Jerry, pick up the phone.

Image via YouTube

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Siblings of Mark Wahlberg

Sorry Mom & Dad. Follow me to prevent my suicide: @SiblingsOfTFM

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