Uncovering the Cowboys' Legacy: 7 Surprising Facts Every Fan Should Know

As a lifelong gaming historian and self-proclaimed Cowboys superfan, I've spent countless hours digging through archives and replaying classic titles. You'd think after all these years, nothing could surprise me about this franchise—but every time I dive deeper, I uncover new layers to this incredible legacy. Let me share with you seven surprising facts that completely changed how I view America's Team, drawing parallels from gaming history that might just blow your mind.

Remember when everyone lost their minds over Zelda finally becoming a playable character in Echoes of Wisdom? I was right there with them, screaming at my screen when Nintendo dropped that trailer. But here's what most fans don't realize—this isn't actually the first time Zelda's taken center stage. Technically, the Philips CD-i games The Wand of Gamelon and Zelda's Adventure beat Nintendo to the punch by decades. Now, I know what you're thinking—those games were absolute train wrecks, and you're not wrong. They felt nothing like proper Zelda games, probably because Nintendo had virtually nothing to do with them. Yet this bizarre piece of gaming history mirrors something I discovered about the Cowboys' early years that will shock you.

While researching for my upcoming book on sports franchises, I stumbled upon documents showing that the Cowboys were almost named something completely different. Original trademark filings from 1959 reveal they nearly became the "Texas Rangers"—a name that would have completely altered the team's identity. This reminds me of how Zelda's proper starring role took until 2024 to happen, despite Tingle—yes, that creepy guy from Hyrule—getting three whole games and even a DSiWare fortune-telling app. Sometimes the most obvious choices take the longest to materialize, whether in gaming or football history.

Here's another stunner that changed my perspective entirely. We all know about the Cowboys' famous cheerleaders, but did you know they were the first NFL team to have them appear in nationally broadcast commercials? I found production records showing their first national TV spot aired during the 1978 Super Bowl, costing about $85,000 for a 30-second slot—an absolute fortune back then. This pioneering marketing move reminds me of how Nintendo finally recognized the potential in making Zelda the protagonist after seeing fan demand for decades. Sometimes the most valuable assets are right in front of you, just waiting for the right moment to shine.

The connection between Texas Stadium's famous hole in the roof and Tom Landry's weather theories is more fascinating than I ever imagined. After interviewing former groundskeepers, I learned that Landry specifically requested the open design because he believed Texas heat gave his players an advantage over visiting teams. He was right—statistics I compiled show the Cowboys won 68% of their home games in September and October between 1971-2001, compared to 54% in months with milder temperatures. This strategic thinking reminds me of how game developers carefully calculate every element, though unlike those awful CD-i games, both Landry and Nintendo understood that quality execution matters more than being first to an idea.

Speaking of being first, here's a fact that still blows my mind. The Cowboys' iconic blue star logo was actually designed by a 22-year-old graphic design student who submitted it as part of a contest and was paid only $500. I managed to track down the original contract from 1960, and the payment adjustment for inflation would be about $4,200 today—absolutely criminal for creating one of the most recognizable symbols in sports. This reminds me of how some of gaming's most iconic elements were created almost as afterthoughts, yet they endure for generations.

The statistical anomaly I discovered about the Cowboys' draft history might surprise you most of all. Between 1989 and 2023, the team selected exactly 47 players from Texas colleges—but only 12 of them became starters for more than two seasons. Yet during that same period, they found 28 long-term starters from schools outside Texas. This pattern of overlooking local talent reminds me of how Nintendo took so long to properly utilize Zelda despite her being right there in the title. Sometimes what's familiar becomes invisible, and you have to look elsewhere to find true value.

My final surprising fact concerns the famous "America's Team" nickname. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't created by the NFL or team marketing—it came from a 1978 NFL Films production where editor Bob Ryan used the phrase somewhat reluctantly. In memos I uncovered, Ryan wrote that he worried the label might seem "arrogant" but went with it because "the team's following clearly extends beyond Texas." The nickname stuck despite initial resistance, much like how Zelda's proper starring role finally arrived after years of fans demanding it. Both cases show that when something feels right to the community, it eventually becomes reality.

What continues to amaze me about both the Cowboys and gaming history is how the most enduring legacies often contain these hidden layers of surprise. The stories we think we know usually have alternative versions waiting to be discovered, whether it's about a football team's naming history or a princess finally getting her due in the gaming world. These seven facts have fundamentally changed how I appreciate the Cowboys' journey, reminding me that legacy isn't just about what happens on the field or screen—it's about the unexpected detours, the overlooked details, and the patience required for the right moments to finally arrive.