A LOOK AT THE NEXT RAM, RAIDER OPPONENTS : They’re Barely Dallas’ Team Now : Landry, Who Rode on Shoulders, May Ride Out Contract

The receptionist inspects her nails and then stares blankly out toward the afternoon sky. Only two more hours before quitting time, before she can finally turn off the three television monitors and VCRs in a nearby cabinet that bellow the successes of the Dallas Cowboys like medieval town criers.

Museum pieces, that’s what they really are. Here, on three screens, the Cowboys always win, and:

--The San Francisco 49ers can never quite stop Roger Staubach from completing two touchdown passes in the final 90 seconds of their 1972 playoff game.

--Staubach always completes the first Hail Mary pass to Drew Pearson that beats the Minnesota Vikings in the 1975 playoffs.

--Coach Tom Landry always gets a victory ride after the Cowboys beat the Denver Broncos in Super Bowl XII.

In a sense, this is what the Cowboys have been reduced to: Gazing fondly back on better times, when there was an aura, not an odor, about the franchise.

Attend a Cowboy game these days and you need a can of disinfectant, what with a 5-8 record, playoff elimination and a second consecutive losing season guaranteed.

Monday night, they will play the Rams at Anaheim Stadium.

“You hear things down on the field kind of derogatory and disrespectful, which, being a Cowboy, is kind of shocking,” linebacker Jeff Rohrer said. “Before, we were almost in the royalty of the NFL.

“People wouldn’t dare say things derogatory toward us or our organization. Now, it seems when I go out there, there’s a rash of harsh words, kind of a giggling laughter, an in-your-face attitude. It’s a humbling experience.”

Nine years have passed since Landry was happily perched atop those shoulder pads, waving a forefinger in triumph, smiling in quiet satisfaction. Now, he finds himself underfoot, potshots zinging around him, critics doing a Texas two-step on his reputation.

Just a few weeks ago, after a loss to the lowly Atlanta Falcons, Cowboy principal owner H.R. (Bum) Bright told the Dallas Morning News that he was horrified with the team’s play selection. And he wasn’t too crazy about player personnel decisions, either.

“It doesn’t seem like we’ve got anybody in charge that knows what they’re doing, other than Tex,” he said.

That would be Tex Schramm, Cowboy president and general manager. Schramm hasn’t been much fun to be around these days. He usually spends each game at the back of press row, thumping his fist against a table top or muttering unpleasantries at whatever forces topple his team.

After that same loss to the Falcons, Schramm told reporters that it was the low point of his 38-year National Football League career.

But that was nothing compared to what he said on his radio show a month earlier: “There’s an old saying, ‘If the teacher doesn’t teach, the student doesn’t learn.’ ”

Cowboy historians rushed to their clip files. As best as anyone could tell, it was the first time Schramm had publicly questioned Landry’s coaching abilities.

And Schramm didn’t do any wind sprints to come to the aid of Landry after Bright’s not-so-bright remarks. But once there, he basically left little doubt that Landry’s job was safe, if not sacred, for the remaining two seasons of the coach’s contract.

And there it is, the strangest part of this whole Cowboy decline. They’re picking on Landry, the living legend.

Landry is a Texas institution, like 10-gallon hats or drawls. Think of the Dallas Cowboys and you think of Landry, that fedora, that stoicism. What you wouldn’t give to watch him, say, noogie someone.

The criticism isn’t entirely new. A letter from an angry fan once found its way into one of the local papers.

It read: “Is it not bad enough to continue to lose game after game as the Cowboys have done and will continue to do with a bunch of has-beens and wise guys, plus the world’s worst coaching staff . . . ?”

And this from a local columnist: “The Cowboys need more experience. They need to strengthen some positions. They also need to believe in themselves. The way the past few games have gone, they appear embarrassed, out of place, being in position to win.”

Actually, the letter and column appeared in the papers a few years ago. Late 1963, to be exact.

Back then, Landry really was in trouble. After four seasons with the expansion franchise, his coaching record was 11-38-3. Ten of those losses had accumulated in 1963. For this, the Cowboys paid him about $30,000 a year.

“(Fans) were becoming impatient, I’m sure,” Landry said. “I didn’t really notice it very much because I didn’t plan to stay anyway. I wasn’t really going to stay in football.

“They offered me the chance to coach the franchise here and I wanted to see what it would be like. But I figured by the third or fourth year I’d be fired anyway. I mean, whoever stays with an expansion team very long?”

The next year, with much of Dallas calling for his dismissal, the late Clint Murchison, the millionaire owner, presented Landry a remarkable 10-year contract extension. Said Murchison to a stunned audience: “It’s in line with my philosophy that when you get a good man, you want to hold onto him.”

Since then, the Cowboys have had little to complain about. You need an abacus to tabulate the number of victories. Just sticking to the biggies, the Cowboys have appeared in two league championship games and five Super Bowls, winning two. Until 1986, Landry had led the Cowboys to the playoffs 18 times in the last 20 seasons.

Shortly after the Cowboys had won their first Super Bowl in 1972, Landry was handed a note. It was from Murchison, who was known for his dry humor. “This,” began the note, “was the completion a 12-year plan,”

So seductive was the Cowboy image after the second Super Bowl victory, that the Firestone company underwrote the production costs of an album entitled, “Back in the Saddle Again!” It featured, according to the album jacket, “the exciting play-by-play action of the 1977-78 World Champion Dallas Cowboys.” A copy of it now occupies shelf space in the Cowboy office library.

Were the Firestone folks still interested in this sort of thing--and they’re not--this season’s highlights could be recorded as a single and called, “What Saddle?”

So now, say his critics, Landry is no longer a capable coach for this team. Too emotionless. Too lazy. Too overworked. Too stubborn.

Too bad, say his supporters.

“Over a period of time, there’s no way he can all of a sudden become a bad coach,” said Denver Bronco Coach Dan Reeves, a former player and assistant under Landry. “Given the opportunity, there’s no doubt in my mind he will (rebuild the Cowboys), without question.”

For those expecting to find a frazzled, haggard man, elbow-deep in film and playbooks, forget it. Earlier this week, Landry spent part of a morning in his office signing Christmas cards.

That is the Landry way--calm, self-assured. If nothing else, Landry always has found a middle ground rather than act out of desperation. It is his trademark.

Still, the remarks by Bright and Schramm caught Landry by surprise. The words stung, as did the implications.

“I think it would disturb anyone,” Landry said. “You got to be human. When someone says you’re not getting the job done, you got to feel it. But that’s when adversity sets in, so you either quit or you overcome it.”

Since his outburst after the Falcon game, Bright has kept a low profile. He later issued a brief statement reaffirming his commitment to the team and his trust in Schramm. Landry’s name was not mentioned.

Said Bright this week: “I really don’t deal with Tom anyway. I deal with the CEO and that’s Tex. I think Tex is the best CEO in all of professional sports, and whoever Tex has confidence in, I have to have confidence in.”

That isn’t exactly the ringing endorsement Landry might have wanted. But Bright, who was responsible for the hiring of Jackie Sherrill at Bright’s beloved alma mater, Texas A&M;, was kind enough to say that Landry deserved the benefit of the doubt.

“Any organization gives somebody who has the results, the history, the record, the character and reputation (of Landry) . . . they allow for a little bit, of a couple of down seasons.”

This year’s record will fulfill that down-season quota. It also marks the third time in the last four years that the Cowboys have been playoff no-shows.

“I don’t like not to do well in anything,” Bright said. “I look to the people in the organization to make it do well. And I’m impatient when they don’t.”

For the moment, Bright said he’ll keep quiet about his Cowboys and enjoy his other love, his Aggies. “This is my A&M; year,” he said. “I’m going to the Cotton Bowl.”

And perhaps the Super Bowl next year, he is told. Bright laughs.

Not all of this is Landry’s doing. Schramm said that much.

The Cowboys have had nine first-round draft picks since 1977, when they chose Tony Dorsett. All they have to show for it are two starters--defensive linemen Kevin Brooks and Jim Jeffcoat. Worse yet, the Cowboys chose Jeffcoat rather than Dan Marino and had Brooks rated higher than Jerry Rice.

The Cowboys haven’t drafted a quarterback in the first round since Craig Morton in 1965. Their 1987 pick, defensive tackle Danny Noonan, was a training camp holdout. Their 1986 pick, receiver Mike Sherrard, broke his leg in a freak accident before this season began.

Their 1984 pick, linebacker Billy Cannon Jr., was forced to retire eight games into his career because of a neck injury. Their 1982 pick, cornerback Rod Hill, was last seen handing in his Raider playbook.

Their 1981 pick, offensive tackle Howard Richards, was cut earlier this year. Their 1979 pick, center Robert Shaw, injured his knee and partly because the Cowboys had no set rehabilitation plan in place, was forced to retire.

And you don’t even want to know how poorly Cowboy second-round selections have fared.

Simply put, the last Cowboy draft choice to make the Pro Bowl was tight end Doug Cosbie, class of 1979.

This season has been interesting:

--Two starting linebackers have sustained broken legs.

--Offensive tackle Phil Pozderac decided to quit.

--Sherrard kicked himself in preseason practice and is out for one, possibly two years.

--Quarterback Danny White has a throwing wrist that won’t bend.

--Quarterback Steve Pelluer is an enigma.

--Three defensive linemen can probably remember the Truman Administration.

--Herschel Walker can’t decide if he’s happy.

--Dorsett can’t decide if he should retire.

“The whole structure of the league is to prevent you from remaining at the top . . . “ Schramm said. “We beat the system for 20 years and then it finally jumped up and nipped us, apparently.”

Nipped? Any more nipped and the Cowboys would be looking for spare body parts.

Schramm accepts part of the blame for the continued decline and then sprinkles the rest over his scouting department, his coaches, including Landry, and his philosophy that if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.

But it’s broken, all right. On cinder blocks, if truth be told. The Cowboy shopping list includes a quarterback, offensive and defensive linemen, a receiver and a linebacker. Given the chance, they’d go back for seconds, too.

But they don’t need another coach, Schramm said. That, they have.

“(Landry) is a competitor, even though he is a stoic looking person,” Schramm said. “Before, he always said when the game doesn’t hold any more interest for him, he’ll leave. This time, he has set a specific goal and specific time to achieve it. That’s totally unusual for him. Now he’s saying, ‘We’re going to win and get back.’ ”

Landry has two seasons--what’s left of his contract--to make good. After that, well, who knows? Does Bright hire Sherrill? Cowboy assistant Paul Hackett? Bring back Dan Reeves or Mike Ditka?

Bright isn’t saying. For the moment, he talks as if he’s stuck with Landry. Imagine that, stuck with Tom Landry.