It’s a brisk, sunny afternoon in Dallas, Texas, and as you step outside to grab the latest delivery off your front porch, your eyes narrow suspiciously. It’s not the box’s condition that’s suspicious—it’s the handwriting. Scrawled on the cardboard in black marker is yet another unsolicited message from the delivery driver:
“Go Cowboys! Dem Boyz gonna take it all this year!”
You roll your eyes, groan internally, and mutter under your breath, “I was born in Michigan for life.” Because in your house, you bleed Honolulu blue and silver, not navy and white. Your allegiance lies 1,100 miles northeast—in Detroit, Michigan, not Arlington.
This isn’t the first time this has happened. And it probably won’t be the last.
Welcome to the unlikely tale of a Michigan-born, Lions-loving, Cowboy country transplant who just wants to receive their Amazon packages in peace.
Growing Up with Grit: The Michigan Football Spirit
For those who grew up in Michigan—whether in the heart of Detroit, the blue-collar suburbs, or a small town Up North—football isn’t just a sport. It’s part of your identity. It’s passed down through family tailgates, Thanksgiving games, and decades of believing that Barry Sanders could do no wrong and Calvin Johnson was robbed of a longer career.
You learn to live with heartbreak. You learn to cherish loyalty. And above all, you learn that being a Detroit Lions fan means staying faithful through the lean years, the rebuilding years, and the “maybe-next-year” years.
So when life brings you to Texas—the literal belly of the Cowboys beast—you’re not going to change your colors. If anything, you double down.
Texas Culture Shock: Where the Cowboys Are a Religion
Moving to Dallas is a culture shock for anyone, but for someone who proudly wears Lions blue on Sundays, it can feel like stepping into enemy territory.
In Dallas, Cowboys flags hang from every porch. The star logo is stitched onto car seat covers, baby clothes, and dog sweaters. Walk into a grocery store during football season, and you’re likely to see someone shouting “HOW ‘BOUT DEM BOYZ!” while comparing salsa brands.
And if you’re from Michigan? You’re going to stand out.
You don’t do the “We Dem Boyz” chant. You scoff at Jerry Jones’ eternal optimism. And you certainly don’t care for the annual delusion that “this is our year” before the Cowboys inevitably collapse in the playoffs.
You might as well wear a shirt that says, “I root for the Lions—Judge Me.”
The Package Problem: Friendly Banter or Borderline Harassment?
It started innocently enough. One box arrived with a sticky note that said, “Hope the Lions finally win a playoff game – Go Cowboys!”
Another time, a grinning Amazon driver gave a thumbs-up and said, “Hey, we fixed your Lions hat and gave it a star!” as he pointed to the Cowboys logo on his cap.
At first, you laughed it off. It’s Texas, after all. You’re in their world now.
But then came the Sharpie graffiti.
Over the last few months, several of your packages have arrived with handwritten notes across the cardboard:
- “COWBOYS NATION BABY!”
- “DAK > GOFF”
- “SEND THIS BACK TO MICHIGAN ”
You even received one box marked with a doodle of the Cowboys logo next to a crying lion.
Okay, now it’s personal.
Loyalty Runs Deep: Why You Won’t Back Down
Being from Michigan isn’t just about geography—it’s about loyalty. You don’t abandon your roots just because you moved zip codes. You may now pay taxes in Texas, but your soul resides at Ford Field.
Let the neighbors hang their Cowboys flags.
Let the delivery guys giggle while tagging your Prime orders.
You’ll keep wearing your Lions hoodie, sipping coffee from your “One Pride” mug, and driving around Dallas with a “Restore the Roar” bumper sticker.
Because when you say “Born in Michigan for Life,” you mean it.
When the Tables Turned: The 2023-24 Season Changed Everything
For years, Cowboys fans had the upper hand. They’d poke fun at Detroit’s futility, often pulling out the “We got 5 rings” argument, despite the last one being in 1995.
But then came the 2023–24 season, when the Detroit Lions finally shed their paper-thin reputation and transformed into legitimate contenders. Dan Campbell’s squad was no longer the butt of jokes—they were punching playoff tickets, silencing critics, and giving Lions fans a reason to believe.
Suddenly, the Cowboys were the ones collapsing, and the Lions were marching deeper into the postseason.
That one glorious Sunday when the Lions defeated the Cowboys in Week 17? You could hear the sweet silence echo across the Dallas suburbs.
And you? You danced in your front yard holding your Aidan Hutchinson jersey up to the sky like Simba in The Lion King.
The Response: A Message to the Delivery Crew
Eventually, you decided enough was enough. You left a sign on your porch. It read:
Dear Delivery Drivers,
I was born in Michigan. I will die a Lions fan. And I do NOT want to see “Go Cowboys” on my packages. My heart can only take so much. Please keep it professional.
#OnePride
The next day, your box arrived in perfect condition—no doodles, no taunts.
Instead, it had a simple note:
“Respect. That Lions defense is nasty. Let’s see you in the NFC Championship.”
A small victory. Truce declared. For now.
When Fandom Becomes Identity
This isn’t just about football. It’s about where you come from. It’s about the culture you carry with you, even when you move 1,000 miles away.
In Texas, Cowboys fandom is everywhere, but you represent something different. You represent the blue-collar backbone of the Midwest—the underdog spirit, the loyalty through suffering, and the unwavering pride in a team that never quite gave up.
You represent a state that taught you that hope isn’t weakness—it’s fuel. That belief in your team, no matter how flawed, says more about you than a Super Bowl ring ever could.
The Ultimate Dream: Lions vs. Cowboys Playoff Showdown
You fantasize about it often. That perfect playoff matchup—Lions vs. Cowboys, NFC title game, prime time, America watching.
Your porch is decked out in blue and silver, while your neighbors fly their Cowboys flags high. You host a watch party, invite everyone over, and serve Detroit-style pizza next to Texas barbecue.
The trash talk is friendly, but intense. Your delivery guy even shows up with a peace offering: a neutral box and a six-pack of Michigan-brewed beer.
And when Jared Goff hits Amon-Ra St. Brown for the game-winning TD and the Lions clinch their first Super Bowl appearance, you erupt in triumphant joy.