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“Some gotta win,

Some gotta loo-oo-oo-ooz.

Goodtime Charlie’s got the blues…”

Danny O’Keefe was right. There is some Monday morning gutbucket wretching going on the the EnnEffEll. And your Dallas Cowboys are singing lead.

I’m at a loss as to how best to frame my thoughts. Empathetic? Stoic? Fatalistic? Sarcastic?

For the moment, I think I’ll opt for “realistic.”

Look at it this way. They weren’t going to be very good anyway.

That was painfully apparent even before Dak got “One for the Thumb.” That offensive line is FUBAR, thanks to a series of poor decisions by Lil’ Abner. CeeDee Lamb is a nice player, but he’s not ready to be any contender’s Number One, particularly when the other receivers currently on that roster are warmed-over Number Two.

Is it possible for an NFL defense to play fourteen in the box? ‘Cause that’s what it’s gonna look like for the rest of this season.

Sixty minutes. Three points.

Yes, there are some Cowboys for whom I feel very badly, starting with Micah Parsons.

But now I eagerly anticipate the predictable and pathetic Monday morning social media memes.

“We’re still America’s Team!”

“We still sell more jerseys than any other NFL team!”

“We still get better TV ratings than anyone else!”

“We still Da Boys!”

Pitiful.

Lil’ Abner has brainwashed you. And he’ll provide a distraction for you here in just a couple of weeks when he (tardily) cans McCarthy.

Yeah, look, I was already a little jagged after watching the Texans squander a 17-point lead.  How many yards did Taylor end up with, anyway? (161, if you must know.)

Also singing Sad Songs on this Monday morning:

Packers. They didn’t just play bad. They ARE bad. And it’s not gonna get much better.

‘Niners. Let’s see. Who was it who told you the Bears would ambush them? Stay loose, Jimmy G.

Panthers. Baker almost got his pound of flesh. Almost.

Cardinals. (Have I mentioned in the past 15 minutes how little respect I have for Kyler Murray?)

Patriots. Remember those two decades when they were relevant?

And the Falcons are still the Falcons.

Damn, Paul. Don’t you have anything nice to say about anybody?  Yes, that was beautiful, Giants.

Ambivalence, thy name is Steelers. Great win. But then there’s that torn pec. Is that part of the Watt genome?

Yeah, I watched Brady pretty closely Sunday night. He was inconsistent, but please don’t question the strength of his 45-year-old right arm. In fact, it looks livelier than ever to me. But the Bucs’ offense may hit a speed-bump if Chris Godwin is lost for any appreciable amount of time.

Changing focus, don’t you know ‘Bama’s Tuesday practice is gonna be fun? Fifteen penalties? Nicky ain’t gonna like that.

Hell, yes, I was impressed with Quinn Ewers. And I feel awful about his clavicle injury. But now I’m gonna piss some of you off. The hit that put him out of the game (and out of the remainder of September, at least)?  It was illegal, and under the letter of the law properly drew a flag. But I did not consider it a “dirty” hit.

Yes, ‘Horns. That was a great effort.  Now you’d better turn the page. UTSA could absolutely knock you off if you’re still replaying the ‘Bama game.

Mark Stoops…Mark Stoops…now has more football coaching victories at Kentucky than Pallbear Bryant. I think that’s pretty cool, actually. And Calipari, you can stop being a condescending jackass.

Hey, I checked the new rankings. Anyone seen Notre Dame?

And that Frost is now finally off the punkin’ in Lincoln.

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Paul's Bio

I clearly have the attention span of your median fruit fly.Look! Airplane!

Sorry. I’m back.

It’s both a curse and a blessing. I’ve never bought this stuff about, “He who dies with the most toys wins.” But I do think that a wide range of life experiences helps us grow as people, and helps us better relate to other people. I’ve been fortunate. And I am beyond grateful.

I show up on time. I go like hell. I’m a good listener. I hold myself accountable. I own my mistakes. And I have a natural and an insatiable curiosity. I’m never afraid to say, “I don’t know,” when I don’t. But then I try to find out.

The flip side is I’m a lousy ballroom dancer and my clothes sometimes fit me funny.

Stuff matters to me. I care. But while I take that stuff seriously, I try hard to never take myself seriously. As a result, I have sometimes been told, “Paul, it’s hard to tell when you’re serious and when you’re just having some fun. Which is it? Serious or fun?”

My answer is “yes.” But I think that is a legitimate criticism. I promise I’m going to work on that.

This has been the quickest and strangest half-century I’ve ever experienced. During that period, I’ve been afforded amazing opportunities in news and sports journalism across all platforms. I have taught wonderful students at the high school and collegiate level. Always, I learned more from them than they did from me. I’ve been a high school administrator. I spent ten seasons as a high school varsity football coach. I’ve been an advertising executive. I’ve hosted nationally syndicated television entertainment shows. In maybe the biggest honor I ever received, I was selected by NASA to be “Chet The Astronaut” for the “Land The Shuttle” simulator at Space Center Houston. (All I can say there, is “Do as I say, not as I do.” I put that thing in the Everglades more often than not.) Most recently, I just wrapped up a decade as a television news director, during which time our teams distinguished themselves in holding the powerful accountable, achieving both critical and ratings success.

What does all that mean? It means I am profoundly grateful. It also means I’m ready for “next.” So here we are. Radically Rational. It’s an idea I woke up with in 2017. I scribbled “Radically Rational” on a piece of notebook paper and used a magnet to stick it on our refrigerator. I saw it every day, and it just would not leave me alone.

I am second in charge at Radically Rational, LLC. My wife, Jo (also known as BB), is the president. Clearly, I have failed in my attempt to sleep my way to the top of this organization.

I hope you will learn that I’m loyal as a Labrador. But I will admit that this doggie can bite every now and then. My promise to you? I will show up on time. I will go like hell. I will listen to you earnestly and attentively. I will hold myself accountable. I will never be the least bit hesitant to say, “I don’t know,” when I don’t.

But then I’ll try to find out. Let’s do it.