For all of the consternation regarding how chaotic the world of the Dallas Cowboys seemed when training camp kicked off, it’s been relatively quiet. The same questions we expected to be asked every day are being asked every day. The answers don’t change, because the circumstances haven’t changed. Neither Dak Prescott nor Mike McCarthy has received a contract extension. CeeDee Lamb is still not at camp.
But I was.
This was my fifth Cowboys training camp, but my first with my new outfit, a podcast called “The Dumb Zone.” I love the title of our show and find it perfect in every way, including how awkward it is when applying for credentials or being asked by a public relations staffer, “Is that really what you want the credential to say?” But lo and behold, much to our surprise, our silly little outfit was granted permission to cover training camp just like legacy media members and team media employees are alike. I know, I can’t believe it, either.
I’m forever grateful for this experience, though, because let me tell you, that’s what it is: an experience. Individuals who cover professional sports teams long enough are offered dubbed “jaded,” and in some cases maybe that description fits. But I also believe in many cases, it is just human nature when you’ve been doing something for five, 10, 20 years to simply normalize the experience, no matter how abnormal it is. I’m still relatively new when it comes to observing this spectacle, however, so for me the presence of the thought of, “Man, this is all kind of strange” is always somewhat top of mind.
Let’s start with the setting. The team has, no pun intended, taken some heat over the years for moving camp to the cool climes of the West Coast rather than practicing in the scalding Texas sun. The notion, which I reject, is that the players run out of steam late in the year and are poorly conditioned because they’re not subjected to something akin to what the Junction Boys endured every August. Training camp is for putting in as much work as possible and staying healthy, and the cooler weather facilitates that.
At the same time, it’s not exactly what I would call a luxurious setup. As you’re most likely aware, practice takes place on two fields behind a Residence Inn. The fields are fine, but there are Texas high school football teams with nicer practice facilities. The hotel, where the players stay, can be booked for around $200 a night outside of the camp dates. Again, fine, but nothing extravagant The facility is not exactly in a location you would go out of your way to visit on a trip to Southern California. The pop-up weight room is constructed in a large tent on the tennis courts that sit behind the hotel. There is nothing wrong with any of it, but the experience is about as far away from being ensconced in the dazzle of The Star in Frisco that an NFL team could conjure up.
There are bleachers on one side of one of the fields that, again, would look underwhelming even at a junior high in Texas. They’re also very close to the playing field, and there is a VIP standing section that allows fans to get even closer to the field. I’m talking like, less than 10 feet from the players on the sideline. I watched quite a bit of practice from that vantage point one day, something I had never done. Adding to that experience was that I was with a non-media friend who had never attended camp. His presence is what really jolted me back into how strange this setup is.
Here are superstar athletes, making millions playing for the most valuable sports franchise in the world, mythical creatures we see on our televisions playing football or selling mattresses, and they’re just… right there. Because of the proximity, people will unabashedly yell at players who are well within shouting distance. Of course, fans yell things at games, but for the most part, that always seems like it’s for the crowd around them. This is closer to being at a high school game where you can hear every word your parents scream from the stands. Some of it is merely an attempt to get the attention of the player; why, I’m not really sure. But I stood next to a man who yelled “Jalen!” over and over at Jalen Tolbert simply because he was standing there. This goes on for the entirety of practice, and for the most part, the players ignore it. What are they supposed to do? Wave? They’re working.
There are also those who choose to yell instructions or encouragement to the players, often with one of the many brands of beers available in hand. Ezekiel Elliott fumbled on an inside run play. As he ran off the field, a man near me screamed, “Two hands on the ball, Zeke! Gotta secure that thing.” There is no way Elliott didn’t hear him. Dalton Schultz said after departing Dallas that working at The Star often made players feel like they’re in a fishbowl, but I’m not sure what could be more intrusive than what you see in Oxnard.
Everything about the scene is hilarious to me. When Trey Lance subbed in, a fellow loudly yelled to no one in particular, “Here comes the future!” Lance them promptly airmailed several throws in a row. The future is not yet here, I guess. There were countless occurrences like this I could recount; just know that it goes on for the entire practice. I would agree with the assessment that attendance was down this year relative to my past trips, but those fans who are there make their presence felt.
When practice breaks up, the fans shift into yelling at players for autographs. These requests mostly go unacknowledged. For those of us with credentials, this is the time to approach players for conversations. Because these are unscheduled requests, they are often met with a “don’t have time today” or just a head shake. Even though I’ve been doing this job for a while, it’s still a strange experience for me to simply walk up to Trevon Diggs and ask, “Hey, you have a minute?” like I’m trying to sell a multi-level marketing plan. And I get it. The players are in the middle of a month-long grind, they’re exhausted, and oftentimes their families are waiting just beyond the fencing.
Usually, younger players will give you time, though. Luke Schoonmaker was a delight to talk to. DeMarvion Overshown comes off as a guy who will be easy for fans to root for. And let me tell you: however cool and wild and funny you think John Fassell is to talk to, he’s that and more.
Speaking of Bones, watching him play with several of his players’ kids after practice is such a cool thing to witness. There’s a lot of that on some days. The post-practice interactions between teammates, their friends who may be in town, and their loved ones really makes it feel like a family. Which is easy to forget when watching on Sundays. Everyone is so much more relaxed in this setting than they are in a press conference or a locker room scrum. Jerry Jones will walk right by you (when not up in his Gladiator-esque perch observing things from on high) with little fanfare. *One note on that: Jones doesn’t have a case on his iPhone. I don’t know what to make of that, but it made me nervous.) I’ve written plenty of articles about Micah Parsons, and at camp I can walk up to him and get an awkward hug. Jourdan Lewis sat down with our show for half an hour—about 15 minutes longer than the PR staffer wouldv’e liked—and he’s easily one of the most likable athletes I’ve ever met.
The entire experience is a reminder that these are (almost) ordinary people who live extraordinary lives. And at least for these few weeks, they have other ordinary people yelling at them within earshot. But those ordinary people who travel to Oxnard to yell at millionaires to “keep your feet moving!” are in many ways the lifeblood of the league. For better or worse, everything about the Cowboys feels like family, and that’s never on more full display than at training camp.
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