Marty's Morning Grumble: Third-and-Nine? Better Throw It Four

October 19, 2026

I've been watching Dallas Cowboys football for a long, long time.

I've seen bad quarterbacks. Bad offensive lines. Bad coaching. I've even seen a few teams that couldn't find the end zone with a road map and a police escort.

But I'm not sure I've ever seen an offense so determined to make gaining ten yards look like an unreasonable request.

Third-and-nine?

Throw it four.

Second-and-ten?

Run a screen that gains two.

Third-and-seven?

Well, let's not get reckless. Somebody might accidentally get a first down.

Good Lord.

I watched that Packers game wondering whether Brian Schottenheimer was trying to win a football game or negotiate a peaceful surrender.

Now, before somebody starts hollering about the offensive line, I know. The protection isn't great. Dak's getting pressured. Everybody's nervous.

But here's a thought: Maybe try calling something that makes the other team nervous for a change.

You know what happens when a defense figures out you're scared to throw beyond the sticks?

They move closer.

Then they blitz.

Then you throw another four-yard pass on third-and-nine.

And somewhere, a defensive coordinator gets to spend the rest of his afternoon looking like a genius.

And don't tell me the coaches haven't noticed.

They've got tablets on the sidelines. They've got people upstairs wearing headsets. They've got enough cameras pointed at that field to identify a mosquito landing on the fifty-yard line.

Surely somebody has noticed that the other team keeps sending more people after Dak than we've got available to block.

You'd think that might inspire a little creativity.

A quick slant. A hot route. Something over the middle. Maybe a play designed to punish a defense for sending everybody but the stadium janitor after the quarterback.

But no.

We keep acting surprised when the blitz comes, like it's a distant relative who showed up uninvited for Thanksgiving dinner.

And I'm beginning to wonder whether Schottenheimer has confused protecting the football with protecting the other team's lead.

There's a difference between being careful and being scared.

One keeps you from making mistakes.

The other makes sure you never accomplish anything worth making a mistake over.

I'm not asking for the reincarnation of Don Coryell. I'm not demanding forty-yard bombs on every play.

Although, judging by the results lately, I'm not entirely convinced that would be worse.

I'm asking for an offense that occasionally behaves like it intends to cross the first-down marker before the punter has finished warming up.

And here's the part that really burns my biscuits.

The defense actually looks like it's starting to make some progress. Not perfect. Not even close. But progress.

Meanwhile, the offense seems to have developed a complicated system for turning eleven talented professional football players into three yards and a cloud of disappointment.

Six games into the season, and we're still waiting for somebody to discover that the yellow line on television isn't just decoration.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got coffee to finish and a newspaper to retrieve from the yard.

I threw it farther than most of our third-down passes.

— Marty Gaines