(Editor's Note: In the interests of equal time, and since R-Dub and Road Dog are deep in the throes of the dog days, today's column is by Jim Bob Joe, citizen of the great state of Texas, and the ultimate Dallas Cowboy fan. Subtitles will be applied, as needed.)

	Jerry Jones seems to be sticking his custom-designed nose in everybody's business.

Aw, shoot (&#!&%). Hail. (Hell). Forgive my Frainch (French), but ol' Jury (Jerry) is 'bout to get on my nerves, and I'm the original Delles (Dallas) Cowboy fan. What the hail is Jury doing, cuttin' guys?! He's lucky that there free agent QB didn't open up a can on him right there, talkin' 'bout how he got talent but Jury has to let him go. Why, that used to be Bruce Mays' job, to go get the Cowboy cuts, Turkinize 'em, take 'em 'round to Dave "Chloroform" Campo.

All of a sudden Jury's doin' the cuttin'!? Just to get on HBO?

Enough to make me a hockey fan. Well, naw ...

Jury's an owner. He ain't no coarch (coach). I was always on his side when it come down to him and Jimmy. Now, I don't know.

Trainin' camp, indoors? I know all them boys all over the league is askin', "Where do we put in for that?" The Cowboys might have an 8-8 team, but we might go 12-4 because teams will lay down for us, just to get their teams to copy the Cowboys, and do trainin' camps indoors. Bear Bryant's a-twirlin' in his grave.

Got this here rookie boy name of Gew-rode, or whatever, spells it "Andre Gurode." Been a-pancakin' everybody in sight down there in San Antone at the Alamodome; starts at center for us; we'll see how Spurrier likes it, watchin' the middle of his D get stove in.

Game plan? Give 'em some Emmitt, behind some Gew-rode. Genius that.

	Andre Gurode spares 10-year-old A.C. Patterson from a pancakin'.

Speaking of Emmitt, he's been a-comin' up lately. Some time this year he'll be a-passin' Walter Payton as the career all-time leadin' rusher in the history of the NFL. Emmitt is the best north-and-south runner I ever saw. Looked liked he was on a string, he ran so north and south -- just slide a little left, just cut a little right, but never too far off that north-south compass. Ol' Emmie, he'll do.

I remember when ol' Tawm (Tom Landry) said, "There's no doubt that Walter Payton is the best in our bid'ness (business) today."

And that was when he had Dor-sette. I always thought Dor-sette was a little too purty (pretty) to be a Cowboy, but what the hail ...

We won with him. Just not enough.

That there colored boy on TV, that there Wilbon, on that there ESPN show, that there "PTI"? He told the truth when he said Emmie was the best runnin' back since Jim Brown. Emmie is better than the best runnin' backs who ever played, includin' ol' Don Perkin (Perkins), Robert Newhouse, Preston Pearson, Dor-sette, ol' Mr. Chain-Blue Laghtnin' (Lightning) hisself, and my personal favor-ite (favorite) Walt Garrison, ol' Mr. Just A Pinch Between Your Cheek and Gum. Emmitt's better than all-a them, and they's the onliest ones who count, to me, because I'm a Cowboy fan, and a Longhorn fan. So really Earl Campbell may be the best, but Earl somehow ended up in a fur'n (foreign) country. Houston.

When I was just a whippersnapper, seen Jim Brown in the Cotton Bowl. Did everything but sell me a bag of popcorn. Might-a even been as good as Doak. For that, Jim Brown should-a been made illegal. Come to think, he was illegal, wudn't (wasn't) he?

I ask you. Do you really think Jim Brown was a human being?

Heard people talk about runnin' backs like Earl, the Tyler Rose, the Heisman Trophy winner for Texas, and I'll always have the Doaker, myself, and then there's tell of that there Gale Sayers, or Barry Sanders, or Eric Dickerson (and yeah, he did take a pay cut to go from SMU to the L.A. Rams, what about it?), and there's plenty more good runnin' backs, John Riggins, McElhenny, O.J. Slasher ... I mean, Simpson, Billy Sims from up 'round Hooks; oh, it's a bunch of 'em, but Emmitt, he's like that there Hank Aaron in baseball. You can talk your Babe Ruths and your Ted Williamses and your Willie Mayses, but in the end, all's that boy Aaron's gotta say is one thing: 755. Emmie will be the same way. Alls he's gotta say is 17,000 yards, while flashing them three Super Bowl rings.

	Cameras will be constantly following Emmitt Smith in what should be a historic season.

The next Super Bowl ring? Well, it won't be caught by Antonio Bryant, that there rookie receiver. That boy cain't even stand up! They try to throw him long bawl, and he cain't stay on his feet!

As if we don't got enough problems at quarterback. Gotta go with Quincy Carter, that ol' Georgia boy. Not that we wanna. We gotta. Don't see much of him in that HBO seer-ees (series) called "Hard Knocks." Quincy didn't want be on that there ESPN thing called "The Lahfe (Life)" neither. Gotta admire Quincy for that. Boy knows his place. We gotta use him under center, under that Gew-rode, because Chad, he ain't a-ready yit (yet). Won't take long.

Boy's name is Chad. That's a Cowboy if I ever heard'a one.

There's a lot more in sports a-goin' on in Big D besides the Cowboys. If you care about anything but the Cowboys, which I don't. But I keep up. Look through the Keyhole building downtown, and see what I prefer to see.

That there hockey goalie, that Eddie Belfour -- he got pinched by the law at the Mansion, a-brawlin' in there like he was Slim Pickens in "Blazing Saddles." Only thing is, Belfour was wearin' one'a them Fewbu (Fubu) jerseys. Very cure-ous (curious).

Then there's Mark Cuban, who made money down in the Deep Ellum (Elm) district, with that there Broadcast.com, and now he's the biggest thing in sports around here, for owning a basketbawl (basketball) team at that; he's the biggest outside of A-Rod, and the Cowboys. Jesus Chrahst (Christ) is just barely bigger than the Cowboys. Onliest thing about Mark Cuban is, I cain't figure out what he is, so I cain't tell whether to root for him or not. Is he Cuban? Is he Mexican? He must think he's secretary general of the U.N., with all-a them players from Germany, Mexico, China and all them fur'n (foreign) places. I'm just waitin' for Mark Cuban to show up in a black helicopter. Everything below Austin is Mexico now, and that was tendin' toward making me mad, 'til the little lady said, "It was theirs to being with, wasn't it?"

I thought about that until my hurt hurt.

Then "The Alamo" came on cable. So I was fine.

That's what Texas needs, John Wayne, not Mark Cuban.

Jury ain't John Wayne, I can tell you that. Jury lives over in Highland Park, near the center of Big D. A-Rod lives over that way, too. A-Rod, that young feller is a walkin' home run, ain't he?

	Chad Hutchinson's got the perfect name for a Dallas QB, but we'll see if he's got the game to match.

Once Dan Jenkins asked me if Ruben Sierra was the real thing. I frowned and said Nolan Ryan was the only real thing that ever played for the Texas Rangers. But now I gotta change. A-Rod is the real thing. A-Rod will break the career home run record of Hank Aaron. And I don't wanna hear 'bout no Barry Bonds.

Barry Bonds is either on steroids or he ain't human.

Either way, he don't count. Not by my mind.

Anyway, A-Rod will catch him and Hank Aaron one day.

Especially if that there John Hart trades John Rocker to some other team where A-Rod can hit off-a him every now and then. If you ever want some gasoline poured on a rally, Rocker's your guy.

Rocker was down in a district they call this here "Lovetown." Now I won't say why they call it "Lovetown" 'cause it' might make me break out in the hives. Alls I'll say is that John Rocker went out to dinner with his old lady and ended up gettin' into a hecklin' contest, callin' some of the other diners "fruitcakes."

So they called him a few things too. Like "idiot."

Rocker would be a saint to me, if he could play quarterback. If he could, I'd start him on the Cowboys and dare you not to like it.

As it is, I cain't help him.

As for the Cowboys, did I mention the Cowboys?

	Butter-fingered wide receiver Antonio Bryant might be considering a switch to a different position.

I don't care if they go 2-14 this year.

As long as the 2 come agin the Redskins.

That there Spurrier, he's a burr under your saddle, ain't he?

Shore (sure) wish he was our coarch.

The big question is -- does Jury have West Nile virus, or what?

He's shore a-actin' like it.

How 'bout them Cowboys?

Yep. How 'bout 'em?

Ralph Wiley spent nine years at Sports Illustrated and wrote 28 cover stories on celebrity athletes. He is the author of several books, including "Best Seat in the House," with Spike Lee, "Born to Play: The Eric Davis Story," and "Serenity, A Boxing Memoir."