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Retrospective: The last Cowboys-Seahawks playoff game ended in heartbreak, but Romo was far from the only guilty party
By Calvin Watkins Jan 2, 2019
It was a loss that stunned the nation and sent a Hall of Fame coach into retirement. The pain caused by this defeat was felt inside the locker room as well as outside it. Even in the days after the game, the man at its center spent time out of sight. He retreated to his best friend’s house, with the hurt caused by that game serving as their common ground.
The Dallas Cowboys have lost 27 playoff games in their 58 years of existence. Few have hurt worse than the 21-20 defeat to the Seattle Seahawks on Jan. 6, 2007.
“That’s the last game I ever coached,” Bill Parcells told The Athletic. “It was very, very disappointing. I think we would have had to play Chicago (in the NFC divisional round), and I thought we had a good chance against them. The way it ended was very, very disappointing. We still had a chance to stop them after that field goal, and we didn’t do that. We gave up a long run to (Shaun) Alexander, and that finished it. When you’re my age (65 at that time), those kinds of things happen. You realize how much you have to do again just to get there. That’s what I remember about it.”
When the Cowboys host the Seahawks on Saturday night at AT&T Stadium, it will be the first postseason meeting between the two franchises since 2007.
The night that led Parcells to retire from coaching is remembered for one indelible event: Tony Romo fumbling the snap on a potential game-winning 19-yard field goal, scrambling, and being tackled just a yard shy of the end zone.
Romo’s mistake would not define him; he developed into a good quarterback who solidified the position after years of mediocre play. But the fumbled snap gave his future critics ample reason to argue that he would never win a big game.
Yet there were so many other plays that affected the game, such as a Jason Witten third-down catch for a first down being overturned on a replay review before Romo’s fumble.
The 2006 Cowboys planned to attack Seattle by using a wide-open attack, as the Seahawks were missing two starters in their secondary. Seattle signed cornerback Pete Hunter, who was selling insurance prior to the game. Much to the surprise of several offensive players, Parcells changed his mind, deciding to grind the game out instead of challenging the Seahawks secondary.
“We had put a lot of four-wide and empty stuff, and you’re talking about (being) excited as an offense,” wide receiver Patrick Crayton said. “We were going to attack these guys. Then we got to the game, it seemed like Coach Parcells was intent on grinding it out and kinda playing a little vanilla offense and it was frustrating to us. So for them to be that close was like, ‘Wait a minute. Why are we even close in this game?’”
The final play of the game also hurt; a Hail Mary pass from Romo landed just a few yards away from Terrell Owens, Terry Glenn, and Crayton. None jumped for the ball, hoping for a deflection that never came.
Getting over such a loss is difficult. Almost impossible, even.
When the Cowboys walked off the field that Saturday night in Seattle, Stephen Jones, his face sunken after the loss, jumped into an SUV parked against the wall in the bowels of Qwest Field. He didn’t want to see anyone. Maybe he wanted to scream. Cry. Vent. He needed to get away.
Inside the quiet locker room, Romo sat at his stall next to Glenn. Romo had just finished crying, and his solemn look told everything. He was coming to grips with what happened and just kept shaking his head. Glenn was talking to him, encouraging Romo about positive plays in the game. Jerry Jones and Owens approached him, offering support.
Glenn tapped Romo on the knee and said in a hushed tone, “It’s okay. We’ll be alright.”
Things would not be alright for Romo. Not that night, at least.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever felt this low,” Romo said after the game.
Deep snapper LP Ladouceur, the only member of this current Cowboys team who played that night, doesn’t remember the tone within the locker room. He has long since blocked it out.
“That’s 13 years ago,” he said. “It was a few games ago.”
The sun rose brightly Sunday, and reporters stood outside the Cowboys’ complex in Irving, Texas. Most players sped by in their cars, refusing to speak. A few did stop. The biggest name to stop was Romo.
He parked his black SUV just before making a right turn on a residential street and smiled as reporters lunged tape recorders through the passenger-side window. He spoke softly, accepting the blame for the loss and trying to mask his pain. A country music song was playing in the background as he spoke. Romo could have easily formed lyrics about heartbreak and adversity through his own experience the night before.
Maybe Romo stopped to be nice. Maybe he just wanted to get his feelings out. When reporters thanked him for the chat, he nodded and slowly drove his car home. Later, he would hang out with his best friend on the team, Witten, who was also hurting. They hung out to vent about the loss and help each other recover.
There would be no visits to Mavericks games that offseason. The two mostly watched television and talked about life.
Romo and the franchise would move on from the loss. Recover? Maybe never. Jerry Jones, who was also in pain that night in Seattle, doesn’t really talk about what happened in the wild-card game.
Jones refused to allow his emotions to be revealed when asked about that game.
“I’m glad we’re here and not there,” Jones said, alluding to Saturday’s game. “And I thought we might have had as good a playoff team as we got a chance to be a part of for that game (in 2007). But there was a lot of unknowns. Some of my thinking has to do (with) what Romo became after that game, but the big thing is how much I respect the coach. I think he’s in the top two or so in NFL. It’s formidable.”
You could blame Romo for the loss. You could blame the slick football that Crayton said felt like wax paper. You could blame the defense for allowing Alexander a 20-yard gain after Romo’s fumbled snap. You could even blame the team’s game plan.
“None of us ever looked at Tony and blamed Tony for dropping that ball,” Crayton said. “We never had a second thought.”
“He fumbled the snap; that was a tough one, you know,” Parcells said. “But listen, it’s a 53-man team now. It’s just not one guy. We’re not playing solitaire out there.”
“It’s just one play,” Ladouceur said. “It sucks. That play sucked. But in all honesty, Tony got us in that position and I don’t know what our record was before he got the start that year. I think he played really, really well leading into that game.”
The image of Romo clutching his face mask and crying when he fumbled that snap lives on. It will probably be shown during Saturday night’s game broadcast. This playoff rematch has a different feel. The head coaches are different. The venue is different. The starting quarterbacks for this game were not even NFL prospects back then; Dak Prescott was 13 and Russell Wilson 19.
The ability to recover from adversity can determine one’s fate in life. Romo moved on from the fumble to become one of the great quarterbacks in franchise history. Seattle would eventually make two Super Bowl appearances, walking away with one Lombardi Trophy while the Cowboys continue their quest to add to their own trophy case.
Maybe this is why Jerry Jones can’t go there when the 2007 playoff game is mentioned. He dismisses it like a nightmare, never to be discussed.
“The thing always for me goes right to the core of things; it’s my town against your town,” he said. “Standings, stats, all that kinds of stuff. But we’re here to play New York, we’re here to play Washington, we’re here to play Seattle. Seattle has been a tough thing for us the last few years, so it will be good to play Seattle in Dallas.”
All Jones can do is refer to this season’s Week 3 game won by Seattle and have confidence the rematch will go his way. Losing does that to a man. It makes you forget. It drives you to win. Jones has always been about winning. Parcells, who has won two Super Bowls himself, understands pain, too. That loss drove him away from the sidelines, tiring of the fight to keep going. It’s just too draining.
“That’s the way it is,” he said. “You can’t change it.”
By Calvin Watkins Jan 2, 2019
It was a loss that stunned the nation and sent a Hall of Fame coach into retirement. The pain caused by this defeat was felt inside the locker room as well as outside it. Even in the days after the game, the man at its center spent time out of sight. He retreated to his best friend’s house, with the hurt caused by that game serving as their common ground.
The Dallas Cowboys have lost 27 playoff games in their 58 years of existence. Few have hurt worse than the 21-20 defeat to the Seattle Seahawks on Jan. 6, 2007.
“That’s the last game I ever coached,” Bill Parcells told The Athletic. “It was very, very disappointing. I think we would have had to play Chicago (in the NFC divisional round), and I thought we had a good chance against them. The way it ended was very, very disappointing. We still had a chance to stop them after that field goal, and we didn’t do that. We gave up a long run to (Shaun) Alexander, and that finished it. When you’re my age (65 at that time), those kinds of things happen. You realize how much you have to do again just to get there. That’s what I remember about it.”
When the Cowboys host the Seahawks on Saturday night at AT&T Stadium, it will be the first postseason meeting between the two franchises since 2007.
The night that led Parcells to retire from coaching is remembered for one indelible event: Tony Romo fumbling the snap on a potential game-winning 19-yard field goal, scrambling, and being tackled just a yard shy of the end zone.
Romo’s mistake would not define him; he developed into a good quarterback who solidified the position after years of mediocre play. But the fumbled snap gave his future critics ample reason to argue that he would never win a big game.
Yet there were so many other plays that affected the game, such as a Jason Witten third-down catch for a first down being overturned on a replay review before Romo’s fumble.
The 2006 Cowboys planned to attack Seattle by using a wide-open attack, as the Seahawks were missing two starters in their secondary. Seattle signed cornerback Pete Hunter, who was selling insurance prior to the game. Much to the surprise of several offensive players, Parcells changed his mind, deciding to grind the game out instead of challenging the Seahawks secondary.
“We had put a lot of four-wide and empty stuff, and you’re talking about (being) excited as an offense,” wide receiver Patrick Crayton said. “We were going to attack these guys. Then we got to the game, it seemed like Coach Parcells was intent on grinding it out and kinda playing a little vanilla offense and it was frustrating to us. So for them to be that close was like, ‘Wait a minute. Why are we even close in this game?’”
The final play of the game also hurt; a Hail Mary pass from Romo landed just a few yards away from Terrell Owens, Terry Glenn, and Crayton. None jumped for the ball, hoping for a deflection that never came.
Getting over such a loss is difficult. Almost impossible, even.
When the Cowboys walked off the field that Saturday night in Seattle, Stephen Jones, his face sunken after the loss, jumped into an SUV parked against the wall in the bowels of Qwest Field. He didn’t want to see anyone. Maybe he wanted to scream. Cry. Vent. He needed to get away.
Inside the quiet locker room, Romo sat at his stall next to Glenn. Romo had just finished crying, and his solemn look told everything. He was coming to grips with what happened and just kept shaking his head. Glenn was talking to him, encouraging Romo about positive plays in the game. Jerry Jones and Owens approached him, offering support.
Glenn tapped Romo on the knee and said in a hushed tone, “It’s okay. We’ll be alright.”
Things would not be alright for Romo. Not that night, at least.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever felt this low,” Romo said after the game.
Deep snapper LP Ladouceur, the only member of this current Cowboys team who played that night, doesn’t remember the tone within the locker room. He has long since blocked it out.
“That’s 13 years ago,” he said. “It was a few games ago.”
The sun rose brightly Sunday, and reporters stood outside the Cowboys’ complex in Irving, Texas. Most players sped by in their cars, refusing to speak. A few did stop. The biggest name to stop was Romo.
He parked his black SUV just before making a right turn on a residential street and smiled as reporters lunged tape recorders through the passenger-side window. He spoke softly, accepting the blame for the loss and trying to mask his pain. A country music song was playing in the background as he spoke. Romo could have easily formed lyrics about heartbreak and adversity through his own experience the night before.
Maybe Romo stopped to be nice. Maybe he just wanted to get his feelings out. When reporters thanked him for the chat, he nodded and slowly drove his car home. Later, he would hang out with his best friend on the team, Witten, who was also hurting. They hung out to vent about the loss and help each other recover.
There would be no visits to Mavericks games that offseason. The two mostly watched television and talked about life.
Romo and the franchise would move on from the loss. Recover? Maybe never. Jerry Jones, who was also in pain that night in Seattle, doesn’t really talk about what happened in the wild-card game.
Jones refused to allow his emotions to be revealed when asked about that game.
“I’m glad we’re here and not there,” Jones said, alluding to Saturday’s game. “And I thought we might have had as good a playoff team as we got a chance to be a part of for that game (in 2007). But there was a lot of unknowns. Some of my thinking has to do (with) what Romo became after that game, but the big thing is how much I respect the coach. I think he’s in the top two or so in NFL. It’s formidable.”
You could blame Romo for the loss. You could blame the slick football that Crayton said felt like wax paper. You could blame the defense for allowing Alexander a 20-yard gain after Romo’s fumbled snap. You could even blame the team’s game plan.
“None of us ever looked at Tony and blamed Tony for dropping that ball,” Crayton said. “We never had a second thought.”
“He fumbled the snap; that was a tough one, you know,” Parcells said. “But listen, it’s a 53-man team now. It’s just not one guy. We’re not playing solitaire out there.”
“It’s just one play,” Ladouceur said. “It sucks. That play sucked. But in all honesty, Tony got us in that position and I don’t know what our record was before he got the start that year. I think he played really, really well leading into that game.”
The image of Romo clutching his face mask and crying when he fumbled that snap lives on. It will probably be shown during Saturday night’s game broadcast. This playoff rematch has a different feel. The head coaches are different. The venue is different. The starting quarterbacks for this game were not even NFL prospects back then; Dak Prescott was 13 and Russell Wilson 19.
The ability to recover from adversity can determine one’s fate in life. Romo moved on from the fumble to become one of the great quarterbacks in franchise history. Seattle would eventually make two Super Bowl appearances, walking away with one Lombardi Trophy while the Cowboys continue their quest to add to their own trophy case.
Maybe this is why Jerry Jones can’t go there when the 2007 playoff game is mentioned. He dismisses it like a nightmare, never to be discussed.
“The thing always for me goes right to the core of things; it’s my town against your town,” he said. “Standings, stats, all that kinds of stuff. But we’re here to play New York, we’re here to play Washington, we’re here to play Seattle. Seattle has been a tough thing for us the last few years, so it will be good to play Seattle in Dallas.”
All Jones can do is refer to this season’s Week 3 game won by Seattle and have confidence the rematch will go his way. Losing does that to a man. It makes you forget. It drives you to win. Jones has always been about winning. Parcells, who has won two Super Bowls himself, understands pain, too. That loss drove him away from the sidelines, tiring of the fight to keep going. It’s just too draining.
“That’s the way it is,” he said. “You can’t change it.”
