In an offseason of gagging head coaches and shedding malcontents, Cowboys owner Jerry Jones has finally made the most obvious move of all -- releasing wide receiver Terrell Owens.

Any locker room and sideline is better without Owens, and while he's a great receiver, I think the equation reads:

NFLteam + TOskill + TOheadaches < NFLteam - TOskill - TOheadaches

He's just too much of a distraction, and there are plenty of receivers out there who may not be able to add his talent, but don't cause negatives everywhere else.

Does this signal a rebuilding phase for Dallas? Hardly. They have one of the league's finest quarterbacks in Tony Romo, a solid backfield, perennial All-Pro tight end Jason Witten and several strong wideouts.

Plus, you just know Jones is going to go out and land someone else to put even more flash in his offense.

Chad Johnson, anyone?

I'm not sure how many of you saw it last night during the debacle that was the Cowboys being decimated by the Giants, but I thought one of the key plays was Terrell Owens dropping a fourth-down pass from newly inserted quarterback Tony Romo.

Dallas head coach Bill Parcells chose to go for it rather than attempt a 50-yard+ field goal, and after Romo had suffered a pick on his first pass attempt, it was a good idea -- give the new guy another chance to make a play.

So Romo drops back, looks right and then comes back to Owens, who is maybe 10 yards away and two yards beyond the first-down marker. You could have run a cattle drive between T.O. and the nearest defender, and Romo floats him the ball -- and Owens tries to run with it before he makes the catch and drops it.

Now, we all know this happens from time to time, but it was T.O.'s response that simply left me slack-jawed. He comes off the field laughing!

No one said a word, but it looked like Parcells could have run up the steps to Jerry Jones's private box and strangled him right then and there. Personally, I wish Bill would have been right up in his face, and it may have gone something like this:

"See, now I totally believe it wasn't a suicide attempt, because if you can't keep something the size of a goddamned football in your hands for one second, how could I think you could hang on to all those little pills while you were trying to get them down your throat?!?

"And you know what? Since it's so goddamned easy for you to laugh it off when you blow a drive and screw my chance to build a little confidence in my new quarterback and so tough for you to understand why you're not the target on every fucking pass we throw, why don't you go put on your Spandex shorts and hop on the exercise bike behind the bench for a while? Have a good chuckle back there, because you won't see the field for the rest of the fucking night.

"Come and see me when you fully understand that Tony Romo should have come off the field and started screaming at you for being a waste of oxygen, the same way you find it acceptable when one of our quarterbacks doesn't throw you the ball, even when your double-fucking covered. Until then, call a press conference or go get another prescription, because you're done catching passes for me."

I guess a man can dream.