Cowboy Cheerleaders’ Dignity Is Restored, and That’s a Relief

Fourteen Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders quit because they hated being looked at as sex objects. This is sort of like 14 Hare Krishnas quitting because they hated being looked at as bald.

This was our favorite sports story of the year, but it nearly got lost in the tournament of Pete Rose parade. The Dallas cheerleaders did not want to wear skimpy costumes and Hugh Hefner took a wife, all in one week. Our R-rated world continued to turn PG-13.

The 14 protesting cheerleaders evidently have made peace with new Cowboy owner Jerry Jones, the chauvinist razorback. After staging their girlcott, veteran members of the squad received assurances from Jones that they would not have to drop another stitch, would not have to appear in beer advertisements and would not have to socialize with players, the three deadly sins.

At this point, the principals did everything but get together to sing an updated version of “The Farmers and the Cowmen Should Be Friends.” The cheerleaders said they were satisfied, because their dignity had been restored. The owner said he was satisfied, because the Cowboy cheerleaders were the greatest little ol’ gals in the world, yee-haw. The republic was saved.

Bottom line: Jerry Jones got rid of Tom Landry, Tex Schramm and Gil Brandt, but kept the cheerleaders. Now, here’s a man with priorities.

Out in Thousand Oaks, where the Cowpokes train, folks will be relieved to know that Jerry Jones and his hairy new coach, Jimmy Johnson, have no other major changes to make, unless of course they decide to change the uniform colors to red and replace those stars on the helmets with the Bar JJ brand. By the way, it should be easy to recognize these new faces in camp. Jones and Johnson will be the two guys wearing the plastic Arkansas pig snouts.

Since buying the ballclub, Jones, the Arnold Ziffel of football, has been busy rooting for truffles in Irving, Tex., overturning everything in his path. By the time Dallas plays its first National Football League exhibition game under the new leadership, Aug. 13 at San Diego, hard telling what other changes the J.J.s will have instituted. Probably take away Roger Staubach’s parking privileges.

This cheerleader thing was standup comedy at its most hilarious. According to the cheerleader leader, Jones wanted the women to slip into something a little less comfortable. Something scanty. Something from Frederick’s of Irving. The emperor asked them to try on some new clothes.

Well, we’ll have none of that, said the indignant 14. The man wants us to go out there wearing Saran Wrap. We have a reputation to uphold. Little girls look up to us. They want to grow up and be just like us. We have an image to protect. That man has a lot of nerve asking us to sacrifice our integrity by (harrumph!) wearing inadequate covering.

What a relief it was, then, for the cheerleaders to win their wardrobe war and be permitted to continue doing their routines in a tight shirt tied just beneath their breasts like halters, bare midriffs, skin-hugging shorts and cowboy boots. Whew! For a minute there, they were almost forced to dress like tramps.

As for beer commercials, we have no idea what to make of that. Budweiser usually uses dogs and horses. We have trouble imagining four Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders sitting around belting down cold brews after a hard day of leg-kicking and halter-tying.

Fraternization with the players? The cheerleaders made Jones sound like a pimp. We suspect that ol’ Jer was giving them permission to date the athletes, not ordering them to go to hotels together to work on some new cheers. As everybody knows, if a player and a cheerleader co-mingle, then have a spat, it could affect the player’s performance on Sunday. He’s liable to go out there on the field and hit somebody.

The Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders are one of those organizations that truly believe they are successful because they symbolize something healthy, normal and decent. If the Dallas cheerleaders really want to do some good, they will get out of the way of the customers in the front row who can’t see.

Oh, OK, they’re harmless, so leave them alone. We admire their valiant stand against Jerry Jones in the vow to reveal nothing more than their bellybuttons, and we applaud them for setting a fine example for those tiny Texas youngsters who hope to grow up and do something meaningful with their lives, just like these courageous women.

Meanwhile, a ceremony was held last week honoring Tom Landry for his outstanding years of service in coaching. Sounds fine, except the ceremony was held in Washington, D.C., and inviting Tom Landry to a testimonial in Washington is like inviting a Hare Krishna to . . . oh, never mind, we already did a Hare Krishna joke. Let’s just say it’s unusual.

These must be confusing times for Dallas Cowboy fans. On one hand, they want their team to win. On the other hand, a winning team might mean that Jerry Jones knows what he is doing. And if it becomes generally accepted that Jerry Jones knows what he is doing, then nobody will object when ol’ Jer decides next year to play half the team’s games in Little Rock and ask the cheerleaders to wear two Gatorade cups and a kicking tee.