Jerry Jones had one hand draped over the shoulders of a pal. Another hand signing an autograph. Another hand wrapped around a drink. Another couple of hands were shaking the palms of bar patrons. (I know. He’s like an octopus, this guy.) And then there was the hand the comely young woman loudly claimed he was metaphorically thrusting in her pocket.
“You are screwing me out of a million dollars!’’ the woman screeched obnoxiously at Jerry the other night while he relaxed at an upscale uptown saloon. “Screwing me!’’
It was an ugly scene, but a momentary one. It took only a minute for the masterfully persuasive Jones to calm down the beautiful-but-boistrous barfly, whose booze-soaked point was, the Cowboys’ move to their expensive new headquarters in Arlington would somehow cost her money.
As bitingly funny as it was, I won’t share with you the first part of Jerry’s even-toned but profane retort to the interloper. (OK, OK: It had something to do with Jerry ping-ponging her “screwing me’’ comment back at her.) But I’ll give you the important part.
“Darlin’,’’ Jerry said to the lady, a twinkle in his eyes, “what I’m givin’ you is a chance to be a part of the greatest stadium in the world. What I’m givin’ you is a chance to be a part of a billion-dollar investment. What I’m givin’ you is somethin’ special.’’
And now we know: You can be a part of that “somethin’ special’’ for just 59 bucks.
Yes, I know it can cost $16,000 just for the privilege of buying a season ticket that will cost hundreds more per game. And yes, I know that parking will be too expensive and nachos will be too expensive and that beer. … well, you could probably jet to Germany and get the good stuff for the same amount of dough it’ll take to get a Cowboy Cup of Miller Lite.
And, almost certainly, those many suites and those field-level thrones and really, all the prime-cut chairs, will be occupied by fat cats and their big-haired wives.
But guess what? You – Ordinary Joe – are still going to get in. Indeed, 50,000 of you are going to get in. At prices starting at $59. That 59 bucks gets you a long-distance view of your beloved football team, but you will be there, awash in all the glorious things that the Cowboys’ Stadium in Arlington (“AT&T Field’’? “Landry Field at AT&T Park’’? “Jerryassic Park’’?) will be.
Restaurants and museums and shopping and hotels and music and football and T.O. and and D-Ware and Pacman and you.
All for 59 dollars – which is just nine dollars more than you paid for the cheapest seat at the dumpy Texas Stadium.
As always, punching-bag Jones got crushed nationally and locally in the media back when the tippy-top prices were announced. (Amusing, in that many of our town’s harshest MSM critics can a) afford those primo seats if they wished, but b) won’t have to pay to get in because Jerry provides them press passes.) I heard lots of rich folks say they might not buy, that Jerry would have to lower those prices; I responded then by saying that if he doesn’t sell ‘em, he will indeed lower his rates – but that few salesmen understand better the notion of “what the market will bear’’ and “supply and demand’’ better than Jerral Wayne Jones.
The fat-cat seats are selling fine, thank you. The number of suites is being increased, so they’re moving as well. And now, somewhere in the building, will be you. A total of 50,000 you’s.
I’ll see you there. And all we need to hope now is that we aren’t seated next to Jerry’s “dissatisfied darlin’.’’