Just because Sybil and I are out frolicking in the South Pacific, couldn't leave you guys hanging. So while I'm gone let's do what the syndicated radio shows do. Yeah, a little "best of ..."
I'll post some of my favorite stories from the past and before you know it I'll be back live and in living color with tales from abroad.
Thanks again for your patronage, your patience and your understanding of my honeymoon sabbatical.
STRAIGHT TALK
By Richie Whitt
Fort Worth Star-Telegram
November 2, 1998
Once
and for all, allow Troy Aikman to set the record ... straight.
"I've heard
the stuff about me supposedly being gay, and it's tough to take," he says
of the inaccurate-yet-persistent rumors recycling in Metroplex comedy clubs and
office cubicles. "It bothers me not only because it's not true, but it
also goes against my beliefs. You'd like to have a thick skin and let it roll
off you, but it's hurtful. I hate to have to
defend myself on something like that, but it's just plain
wrong."
With his
heterosexuality secure and his collarbone all but healed, the
Cowboys' silver-and-blue-chip quarterback makes his
prime-time return
tonight as confident and as appreciative as ever about
his life, love and
longevity.
Despite a
tumultuous year in which he has endured a cancerous mole, his
parents' separation, a strained relationship with former
coach Barry
Switzer, a fire in his new house and the cracked
clavicle, Aikman said he is
determined to win a fourth Super Bowl, inspired to play
another five years
and rejuvenated, in part, by his recent status as a
one-woman man.
"Let's just
say we're very steady," he said of his girlfriend. "It's
great."
Said
long-snapper and close friend Dale Hellestrae, "He's as happy as
he's been in a long time."
Not so fabulous
is his health.
(continued from page 1)
Despite wearing extra "channel" cushioning in his left shoulder pad, Aikman and the 4-3 Cowboys
realize another awkward fall like the one Sept. 13 against the Denver Broncos
will likely end his
season.
"There is
risk," said trainer Jim Maurer. "But he's not going to re-break
it unless he falls on it the same way again. If that
happens, in all
likelihood, he's done for the year."
Though there
will be fewer seven-step drops, rare rollouts and strong
suggestions to not kamikaze interception returners, there
are few
concessions to the game plan. In typical rawhide-tough
fashion, Aikman said
only "subconsciously" will he protect his left
arm.
"If I say
anything it will be a general thing in passing," said coach
Chan Gailey. "He's been down this road before. He
knows what to do."
In other words,
this isn't Troy's first rodeo. But what if it's his last?
Troy Kenneth
Aikman - the man owner Jerry Jones calls "the most important
person in our organization" - is sneaking up on 32
years, 30,000 yards
passing and 1,000 MRIs. A wide-ranging appreciation of
Aikman's career and a
peak at his mental and physical state as he returns onto
the field and
closer to Canton: The Injuries Despite the
Frankensteinian scars,
technicolor bruises and cranky back, Aikman said his
warranty is safe
because the parts aren't yet wearing out.
Sure, he wears
more padding than John Glenn, sometimes walks like
Quasimoto and can't come close to touching his toes, but
252 career sacks
behind an offensive line that used to be made up of guys
now waiting tables
will do that. He still remembers his first broken bone
(left arm as a
10-year-old linebacker in Cerritos, Calif.), almost all
of the 40 stitches
in his chin ("Now I've got a turbo-strap") and
scratching his cornea by
wearing his contacts in the wrong eye during Super Bowl
XXVIII.
"Not a day
goes by that I'm not reminded I had back surgery," said
Aikman, who underwent surgery to repair a herniated disk
in June 1993. "Some
mornings it's tight and just never loosens up. It's the
scariest because
it's the only thing that won't fix itself. Other than
that, I feel pretty
good."
Despite that
11-sack mauling against the Eagles in '89, his leg bending
like an accordion against the Redskins in 1991 and that
hit by the
Cardinals' Anthony Bell in '89 that sent blood spewing
out his left ear,
Aikman said he feels good enough to play out this
contract (through 2001)
and another. Before the collarbone, he had made 58
consecutive starts.
(continued from page 2)
"I'm not
saying I feel as good as when I was in my 20s because the hits
have taken their toll," said Aikman. "But I
take much better care of myself.
I run four to five times a week, something I never did
early on. I used to
think 10 seasons was the magic number, but I'm so
encouraged by guys like
John Elway, Dan Marino and Warren Moon. They're still
growing strong, and
I've got six or seven years on them."
Said Maurer:
"He's probably not as beaten up as you think. There's
nothing physically to limit him from playing another five
years."
The Style Aikman, a self-proclaimed
"grunt," is as slow as the last day
of school and as mobile as a mailbox. Few passers in NFL
history, however,
have combined his zip and precision. A flop at the
Improv, No. 8's 15-yard
post is unchallenged and he has the unique ability to
consistently launch
lasers through a window as small as the drive-thru at
Wendy's.
"He's our
`oomph'," said receiver Michael Irvin. "There's no one who's
ever played this game that I'd rather be catching balls
from. No one."
With piercing
blue eyes, rugged good looks and a jerky-tough mentality,
the guy friends and teammates call "8-ball,"
"T-Roy" or just "Roy" is as big
(6-foot-4, 220 pounds) and precise (third-most accurate
passer in NFL
history at 62 percent) as Big Ben. Early in his career
playing with
receivers who disappeared faster than David Copperfield
assistants, Aikman
painted his self-image and grabbed 42 Cowboys passing
records by standing
patiently in the pocket and picking apart secondaries
like a vegetarian
sorting through beef stew.
"All he
needs is time to throw," said Irvin. "He's got everything else."
Like he has done
since he was 2, Aikman still eats Lucky
Charms for breakfast. He has, however, done some serious
growing up in his
10 years with the Cowboys.
(continued from page 3)
"We don't
do quite the running around like we used to do, and he's cut
out the junk food," says long-time close friend Doug
Kline. "He's grown up,
but his ego hasn't. He's still a Mr. Humble, but a darn
strong, driven one."
Not long ago,
he was a guy taking a swing at an obnoxious fan in 1989
and leaving the Pro Bowl at halftime in '92. Now, he has
the ability to
overcome the loss of close friends and former teammates
like Kevin Gogan and
Jay Novacek and who last off-season optimistically dealt
with seemingly
negative news involving his family, residence and health.
"It's been
anything but a tough year," he says. "Each was an isolated
incident. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I was able
to see the
positives. Like the fact that no one was injured in the
fire and we caught
the cancer early. There's been some tough things to deal
with, but football
is still fun and exciting. It's a different type of
feeling without some of
those guys around, but I'm a different person now,
too."
The Aikmaniacs
are still out there, but the object of
their obsession has learned to play their game. He's
prepared to sign
autographs anywhere, anytime. He doesn't like signing a
guy's receipt at the
gas station or a woman's underwear at a restaurant, but
it comes with the
territory of being the highest-paid player on the world's
most popular team.
"I'll
never be completely comfortable," said Aikman. "But there is a
misconception that I can't leave my house, and that's
just not true. I'm not
a prisoner of whatever celebrity I may have."
Aikman realizes
the same popularity that pushes fans to approach him has
also produced more money than Sultan of Brunai,
appearances on everything
from Oprah to People 's list of the 50 Most Beautiful,
and the seven
fireplaces in the new house he hopes to move back into
next summer.
"I do look
forward to the days when I can have a private life," he said.
"But I also know I'll miss not playing. I talked to
Dan Marino and he told
me that when you're done, you're done. It's simple, but
it really made me
think and I'm trying to soak things in a little
more."
Aikman's
immediate sights are accomplishing something of
unprecedented biblical proportion: two resurrections. One
from 1-15; the
other from Switzerland. The first took a 1-15 disaster to
three Super Bowls
in four years earlier this decade. This one is about
rebuilding a winner and
an image from a team that plunged to 6-10 last year under
Switzer.
"I'm going
to be very disappointed if we don't get a fourth Super Bowl,"
he said. "Because we've got the core players to do
it."
(continued from page 4)
And when he's
done playing? Marriage? Kids? Ownership? For now he's
content with his down-to-earth girlfriend, who has no
links to Hollywood
stardom.
"I've
enjoyed playing too much to just walk away altogether," he said. "I
don't think I have the patience to coach, but I'd like to
be involved in
some part of ownership. It could really be rewarding if
it's a meaningful
position."
Three Super
Bowls. Super Bowl MVP. 11-2 in the playoffs. 88-56
record as a starter. Not bad for a kid who practiced
crossing his T's and
A's because he thought his baseball autograph would
someday be worth
something and who took up football in the eighth grade
only because his
Marlboro-Man tough dad, Ken, signed him up without
asking.
"If it all
ended today my career would be a success, yes," Aikman said.
"The Super Bowls are something to be proud of; I've
got the respect of my
teammates and have pretty much established myself. I
don't dwell on the end
because I'm not too worried about it. It's not like I'm
going to have to
start selling shoes when football is over."
And, from now
on, he’ll no longer have to sell his sexual orientation.
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