I'm a Cowboys fan. And I'm blurring out.

But in the meantime, I know — I’m feeding the beast.

I don’t, and won’t, venture outside the baseball sphere too often, but the team that I’ve cared about the longest has sent me reeling this week.

The Dallas Cowboys — no, sorry, just one person in particular — managed to make me appreciate and respect and love the Texas Rangers more than I already had.

And the Dallas Mavericks. And the Dallas Stars. And the Texas Longhorns. And Radiohead. And Michael Chabon. And David Letterman. And “The Bear.” And nectarines. And naps.

I’m not going to run down the things that Jerry Jones said on local radio on Tuesday morning or to a national reporter on Tuesday afternoon, because you either already know or you couldn’t care less. Hard to imagine there’s a third population. But I’m starting to wonder how much more those first two groups might start Venn-diagram themselves together. I’m tempted to join the overlap.

Right now, I do care. I do because I’ve got nearly 50 years invested in that football team, and I’d rather not abandon that. And I’m not here to cliche you to death with “When’s Jerry the Owner gonna haul off and fired Jerry the GM?” because it’s tired, empty rhetoric and is no more worth wasting time on than asking why we can’t have 75-degree highs in August around here.

I’ve also got a pretty good sense how long another GM would have lasted around here with this kind of track record.

Actually, no, I don’t. They brought Zeke back.