My name is David and I'm a Cowboyholic.

Are you?

I know, it's a shameful confession. But the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

America, we have a problem.

Too many of us are addicted to the Dallas Cowboys. That doesn't mean we necessarily love them or hate them. We just can't live without them.

They are again dominating this week's NFL headlines. If it's not Tony Romo's pinkie, it's the Roy Williams trade or Terrell Owens' pouting that Jessica Simpson catches more of Romo's passes than he does or Pacman Jones getting suspended.

Call him Adam, call him Pacman, just don't call him late for last call.

Enough already.

If I see one more ESPN talking head analyzing the Cowboys in Crisis, I'm going Pacman on the TV. Aren't there other teams out there that deserve our attention?

Sure there are, but that doesn't matter. The Cowboys are the National Enquirer of the NFL. We simply cannot help being sucked into the Jerry Jones Vortex.

In that sense, Dallas truly is America's Team. We are fascinated by celebrity drivel-drama, even if we hate the characters.

Speaking strictly for me and millions of others, I can't stand the Cowboys. And I grew up loving them, thanks largely to CBS, the old Cowboys Broadcasting System.

The TV execs knew how to hook an audience. I had a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders poster on my wall. Roger Staubach could have been God. If he wasn't, Tom Landry certainly was.

Sure, Hollywood Henderson was a coke-sniffing problem child. But at least he was a likable coke-sniffing problem child.

Somewhere along the way, perhaps when Jones gave Landry 15 minutes to clean out his desk, things changed. Jones came in with a relentless drive to prove he's the most brilliant owner in sports.

In some ways, he is. Instead of being overly invested in the Cowboys' success, I revel in their meltdowns.

Jones is undeniably successful in a Trump sort of way. The Cowboys are worth about $2.4 zillion.

They won three Super Bowls in the 90s, though it could have been twice that, but even Texas wasn't big enough to hold both Jones' and Jimmy Johnson's egos.

Jones will do anything or sign anyone to win. One way to look at it is he gives poor, misunderstood characters a second or third or 10th chance to prove what fine human beings they are. All I know is if Uday or Qusay Hussein could have played cornerback, Jones would have sent his private jet to Baghdad to pick them up.

The latest is the erstwhile Pacman. The owner conducted an exhaustive investigation into last week's altercation. Since nobody was shot or paralyzed, Jones cleared Jones to continue playing.

Then Roger Goodell barged in and suspended Pacman. The commissioner apparently is more worried about the league's image than the Cowboys' chances in the NFC East.

Dallas certainly isn't the only team that needs a staff parole officer. So when its fans complain that the Cowboys' problems and pitfalls are blown out of proportion, they are right.

Everything is blown out of proportion with Dallas. That's why inquiring minds want to know:

Will Tony agree to marry Jessica and give her the six children she wants?

How long will it take T.O. to explode after Roy Williams catches more passes in a game?

Will Nancy Grace now turn her attention from Casey Anthony to Pacman?

I'd love to say I don't know and I don't care. But I do.

I'm an American, and this is my team.

Somebody please help me.