The 5 Inevitable Stages of Every Single Dallas Cowboys Season

Look around. Smell that? It’s the fresh-cut grass of early September. It’s the faint, greasy aroma of stadium hot dogs. For 31 NFL teams, it’s a time of boundless, irrational hope.

And then there are the Dallas Cowboys.

For America’s Team, the season isn't a journey of discovery. It’s a pre-written script. A five-act Shakespearean tragedy performed in shoulder pads. It's as predictable as the sun rising, your landlord increasing your rent, and a buffalo wing shortage during the Super Bowl. As your resident expert from the comfort of my lawn chair, I've studied the phenomenon for years. This isn't a curse; it's a schedule.

Here are the five inevitable stages of every Dallas Cowboys season.

Stage 1: The August Erection (Preseason Hype)

Before a single meaningful snap is taken, the Dallas Cowboys have already won the Offseason Super Bowl. The catalyst is always the same: team owner/crypt keeper Jerry Jones gives an interview from his billion-dollar yacht, saying something like, “I feel real good about this group. We’re all in.”

The sports media, desperate for clicks in the barren wasteland of August, latches onto this like a starving hyena. Suddenly, ESPN is running segments titled "Is This Dak's Year?" Skip Bayless is screaming so hard a vein in his forehead threatens to secede from his face. The hype machine roars to life, fueled by absolutely nothing but vibes and recycled narratives. Cowboys fans, who have the short-term memory of a goldfish, mainline this nonsense directly into their veins. They are loud, obnoxious, and utterly convinced that this—this—is the year.

Stage 2: The 6-2 Mirage (The Hot Start)

The season kicks off, and Dallas immediately validates the hype by beating the absolute dog crap out of the Washington Commanders and New York Giants. They hang 40 on a team starting a backup quarterback. CeeDee Lamb looks unstoppable. Micah Parsons is a defensive wrecking ball.

This is the most dangerous stage. The "How 'Bout Them Cowboys!" texts start flooding your phone from that one friend you regret giving your number to. The power rankings have them in the top 3. The MVP talk for Dak Prescott begins in earnest. The problem is, their record is a complete mirage, built on the football equivalent of clubbing baby seals. But you can't tell them that. The confidence has morphed into an unbearable swagger. They are, for a brief, shining moment, the kings of the world.

Stage 3: The December Slump (The Inevitable Collapse)

Just as the weather turns cold, so do the Dallas Cowboys. The schedule finally serves up a real, certified contender—like the 49ers or the Eagles on the road in a primetime game. And they get absolutely boat-raced. It's not just a loss; it's an ego-shattering, 42-10 style beatdown where they look like they’ve never played football before.

This is the first crack in the dam. A week or two later, the dam breaks. They lose a game they have no business losing. A noon kickoff against a 4-9 team like the Arizona Cardinals, where they commit 14 penalties and look totally unprepared. The blame game begins. It's the offensive coordinator's fault. The defense is too soft. Mike McCarthy's clock management is a war crime. The once-confident fanbase is now a frantic mess of sports-talk-radio callers demanding someone be fired.

Stage 4: The Limp into the Playoffs (The Wild Card Berth)

Just when you think they might completely fall apart and miss the playoffs, they pull out of the nosedive just enough to not die. They'll beat the Giants again in a meaningless Week 18 game to secure the #5 seed and a Wild Card spot. They don't look good doing it. There is no joy. No swagger. The team that takes the field in January bears no resemblance to the juggernaut from October. The prevailing feeling is no longer hope, but a deep, gut-wrenching dread. Everyone, including their own fans, knows what's coming next.

Stage 5: The Humiliation (First Round Exit)

This is the grand finale. The chef's kiss of Cowboys football. Whether at home or on the road, they will find a way to deliver a truly spectacular and uniquely embarrassing playoff loss.

This isn't your standard, run-of-the-mill defeat. A Cowboys playoff loss is a work of art. It must contain at least two of the following elements:

• A baffling, bone-headed penalty from a veteran player at the worst possible moment.

• Coach Mike McCarthy staring at the play-call sheet with the bewildered expression of a man trying to read ancient hieroglyphs.

• A back-breaking interception from Dak Prescott where he holds the ball just a half-second too long.

• A bizarrely designed final play that has a 0% chance of success (see: the QB draw).

  
  

The game ends. The camera finds Jerry Jones in his luxury suite, looking like his dog just died. And the cycle is complete. Another season of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

So, as we embark on another NFL season, don't get fooled. Don't fall for the hype. The Dallas Cowboys aren't a football team; they're a recurring sitcom. And for the rest of us, it's the best comedy on television.