Cowboys Cut Greg Ellis; 'The Babysitter' Is Gone

  In 1998, when immediate circumstances scared the Dallas Cowboys off the “risk’’ of selecting a bad boy like Randy Moss (damn you, Michael Irvin!), Jerry Jones cautiously used his first-round selection to draft for “need.’’

  The need? Not necessarily defensive end – though those Cowboys had a nasty habit of overloading on that position, too.

  No, the “need’’ was for a “good guy,’’ a “Boy Scout,’’ a “character guy,’’ an individual like Greg Ellis, of whom his college coach Mack Brown said was the sort of person who you’d hire as your babysitter.

   Eleven seasons later, Mack’s characterization still rings true: Ellis is exactly like the person you’d hire as your babysitter in the sense that he so often behaves like a teenage girl.

   And now he's gone.

  Oh, Ellis -- who was just cut by the Cowboys today -- worked out OK. He played with great effort in a Dallas uniform. He was productive enough to move up to No. 8 on the team’s all-time sack list (terrifically good company there.) In 2007, he recovered from a torn Achilles – the sort of injury meant to end an athlete’s high-level productivity – and became even better, qualifying for a Pro Bowl.

People close to the team say Ellis has been wonderful in working with young players, spending one-on-one time mentoring them. He was available as a team spokesman. The other night, at the fundraiser for injured Cowboys aide Rich Behm, Ellis was there, doing his part as a centerpiece personality.

  And last year, he was a Dallas Cowboys team captain.

  But as the Cowboys part ways with Ellis (they had courteously allowed him a week to navigate his own exit), they are doing so to rid themselves of a nagging headache that’s become a chronic aneurism:

   Greg Ellis is ALWAYS complaining about something. Or on the verge of complaining about something. Playing time. Money. Respect. Money again. And money. ALWAYS. It got to be a joke among media types, and among some staffers, too.

  At some point, the joke becomes less funny. And becomes more of a distraction.

  Jones and the Cowboys are careful to say that Ellis’ exit isn’t about bitterness, disgruntlement or anger.

  The official word is that this is really about DeMarcus Ware’s stardom. The team is making sure everyone knows that D-Ware is now the guy doing the tutoring of the kids.

 The Cowboys want you to believe that Ellis’ exit is also really about Anthony Spencer’s development. "I don't have a maturity issue with Anthony Spencer," Jerry said. "He's been everything and more that we want him to be."

  And the Cowboys wish the world to know that Ellis’ exit is very much about the potential of a couple of other kids most of us have never heard of.

  But really, why does a team go out of its way to announce that it’s going to part ways with a team captain, a leader, an all-time sacks leader … well before his departure is done? Why send this guy home?

  Because his presence at OTAs and beyond is about diminishing returns. He’s 33, not slated to start, not happy with his role, not happy with his contract. What sort of a “captain’’ is that?

  I have a hunch that he was made a team captain for the same reason Terrell Owens was given that title: To thrust leadership upon a person whose natural tendencies lean toward the selfish. (Granted, Ellis’ brand of “selfishness’’ is more palatable than Owens’. But how different is it, really?) The psychological ploy almost worked with T.O. By making him feel loved and respected, he was more apt to reciprocate.

  It worked in spots with Ellis – generally liked and respected by teammates – but leadership isn’t supposed to occur in “spots.’’

  Tank Johnson was capable of leadership. Pacman Jones had fans in the locker room. And T.O.? When a player is “divisive’’ (and Terrell is among the most divisive athletes of all time) that means he has leadership skills. … it means that while half the room is disgusted by him, the other half is prepared to jump off a bridge with the guy.

  And we know this about this era of Cowboys: Come December, they do take their plunges.

  Now, all those “leaders’’ are gone. Soon, Ellis will be as well. Dallas will trade him and get something for him. Or release him and save money on him. After he goes, Greg will say some hurtful things about the Cowboys – he will see them as “retaliatory’’ because he will see years of the Cowboys not giving him more snaps and more money as hurtful. And then, after a time with his new club, Ellis will complain some more.

  About money. About playing time. And about money again.

  Enough time has passed that Greg has separated himself from the Kavika Pittmans and the Ebenezer Ekubans and the Shante Carvers, the other defensive ends selected by the Cowboys in the same bunching of odd “fill-a-need’’ picks of that time.

  Enough time has also passed that the Cowboys don’t really have to kick themselves (or be kicked around by you and me) over the flawed Randy Moss decision. Ellis was a fairly solid Cowboy; Moss, with all his blemishes, including misbehaviors in Minnesota and disappearances in Oakland, is a Hall-of-Famer, with 135 TD and counting. But those mistakes happen. They are part of the inexact science of decision-making and you move on from them.

  But the mistake on Greg Ellis isn’t about talent or production. And the mistake, unlike the Moss issue, is the one that doesn’t go away easily. Eleven years, and it’s just now being shown the door.

  The mistake on Greg Ellis, ironically, is about misbehavior, but of a different sort than Moss’ or Irvin’s or T.O.’s. It’s about whether being “babysitter-good’’ is good enough.