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Cowboys QB
Quincy Carter
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Owner drafts quarterback. Eyebrows raise. (Eyebrows are not the owner’s). Owner
appoints quarterback as team’s starter despite presence of other, more qualified
quarterback.
One can wonder: What next is Jerry Jones going to do for Quincy Carter? Sing him a
lullaby? Tuck him in? Read him a bedtime story? Jones seemingly has a paternalistic
interest in Carter, a "my guy" type of thing that had its source when the
owner/president/general manager of the Dallas Cowboys identified the former Georgia
athlete far earlier in the draft than Carter’s notices suggested he should have gone.
About Carter, the estimable Joel Buchsbaum of this publication wrote, "Very
erratic passer who will scatter the ball all over the place at times. Lacks great
anticipation and accuracy. Does not seem to see the field well at times. Seems to have
regressed as a player and competitor."
In Carter, however, Jones saw things that others could not.
In the draft, Jones sacrificed a couple of third-round selections to be able to name
the quarterback in the second round. This for a fellow who began his final season at
Georgia by throwing five interceptions in a game against South Carolina and concluded it
with a completion percentage of less than 50 percent.
Yet Jones reached for him. Having done so, Jones proceeded to hand Carter the football
in what must be considered an act of monumental egotism. "The guy must be great
because I chose him." That sort of thing.
"I look at (Daunte) Culpepper," Jones said. "I look at (Donovan) McNabb
— quarterbacks who have played early, albeit in their second years, not their first.
It is logical to me that Quincy has the ability to come in and have that kind of success
with this team at this time."
Let me say something. "Balls." There, I said it. I have had no briefs against
Jones. For my newspaper, I named him the NFL’s most dynamic individual of the 1990s,
in which he won three Super Bowls, including one with Barry Switzer as his coach. Jones,
one must remember, is more than the owner of the Cowboys. He is the team’s general
manager. He must be applauded for how he has maneuvered the club, and he must he held
accountable for this error in judgment, if that is what it is.
Ah, the plot thickens. Consider this scenario: Jones surely must be aware that teams
quarterbacked by rookies aren’t going to do anything wondrous, even teams a good deal
more accomplished than the Cowboys. Perhaps what he wants is to position himself strongly
for the 2002 draft. So he names Carter and terminates Tony Banks.
Banks is the victim here, and it’s wrong. After his tie to the Ravens had lapsed
following the Super Bowl, Banks, by his account, had opportunities to sign with teams
other than Dallas, but he accepted a bare-bones, one-year contract from the Cowboys
calling for a salary of $500,000.
As his reward, Banks was severed by Jones after an association with the Dallas club
that had been too brief for a definitive decision to have been made concerning his
usefulness.
"The perception of leadership, the passion for the competitiveness of it,"
Jones listed. "We ultimately made the decision because we have that in Quincy Carter
and Anthony Wright."
"Balls" again. Jones is suggesting that Banks is a bloodless individual who
shrinks in the nitty-gritty. How would Jones know? Oh, he found out during about a month
of meaningless exercises. And who are the other parties in that "we" of his?
Dave Campo, Jones’ head coach, is a fine fellow, but he is a shameless
"yes" man for the owner. Campo’s contention that the decision to elevate
Carter and lop off Banks was a team matter was laughable. Jones was acting unilaterally.
"I guess I’m not Jerry’s guy," Banks said.
"You all saw how I was practicing and playing," Banks told reporters. "I
didn’t see this coming. I feel like my dad hit me with a baseball bat. It was the
last thing I was expecting. All I know is the offensive coordinator and the quarterbacks
coach had no idea what was going on. That should tell you something."
Banks is not the most fortunate of individuals. In Week Two a year ago, he threw five
TD passes in the Ravens’ 39-36 conquest of Jacksonville and was named the AFC’s
offensive Player of the Week. A month later, the Baltimore team entered into an offensive
malaise, and Brian Billick benched Banks and made Trent Dilfer his playoff quarterback.
Banks being a San Diegan, I sometimes confer with his father, Norman, who operates a
cement firm in my town. The senior Banks said his son was desolated by the Cowboys’
decision.
"He felt he deserved to be the starting quarterback," Norman said. "I
feel that in the last three years, Tony really has gotten ahold of the game."
Tony had felt Carter was no threat to him. "If I was a starting NFL quarterback
worrying about a rookie coming in, I wouldn’t be a starting NFL quarterback,"
Banks had said recently. "And anyway, they told me before I signed that they were
going to bring in a young quarterback."
Yeah, but they hadn’t told him the young quarterback was going to be "the
guy."
Banks was not unemployed for long. A couple of days after his release, he showed up in
the Redskins’ Carlisle, Pa., training site and landed a job.
"One day you’re on one team, the next day you’re on the other,"
Banks said. "It’s not how I pictured it, but here I am."
There has been a moral here. It is hoped Banks has learned from it — that a
quarterback competing against an "owner’s guy" is apt to become an
unemployed quarterback..
Jerry Magee has covered pro football for the San Diego Union-Tribune since 1961 and for
PFW since its inception in 1967. |
