On the blue-lit rotating stage of AT&T Stadium, legendary country music musician George Strait is delivering an encore from his farewell show. The largest audience in North American history—104,793—belts out George Strait’s hit song, “All my ex’s dwell in Texas, and Texas is the place I’d dearly love to be,” as they sway and swoon.
Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones is dancing with actress and model Kate Bosworth, 31, in the dimly illuminated owner’s room. They stroll up the upper staircase of the room with their hands interlaced, laughing as they briefly brush against one another. Jones more than makes up for any lack of rhythm with his intensity. With her back to the action, Bosworth sashays in her black cocktail dress. Jones, dressed in a black suit and a salmon-colored shirt, gives the oval stage a discordant smile as she peers over her right shoulder. Two Cowboys veterans, Tony Romo and Jason Witten, are stealing glances at this unusual pair’s crooked two-step a few feet away. Jones leads Bosworth in a mini-twirl that develops into a hit-and-run half-hug as Strait closes the song. It appears as innocent as Jones, 71, is capable of making anything appear.
Bosworth responds, “Wow, this is great—tthank you, Mr. Jones,” and then she dashes back down the stairs of the room to greet her spouse. With a wink, Jones holds up a tall plastic cup bearing the recognizable Cowboys star, pours in his favorite summertime concoction, Johnnie Walker Blue Label (always on ice), and takes a taste of the smooth, smokey whiskey.
The glittering, wild celebration of the $1.25 billion pleasure palace Jones created for his terrible football team comes to an end with Jones’ farewell dance. Jones’ star-studded music party, held inside the owner’s enormous suite, had all the makings of a corporate retreat, complete with calligraphy name cards, a barbecue buffet, and an open bar. But it quickly turns into a square dance in a barnyard.
Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones is dancing with actress and model Kate Bosworth, 31, in the dimly illuminated owner’s room. They stroll up the upper staircase of the room with their hands interlaced, laughing as they briefly brush against one another. Jones more than makes up for any lack of rhythm with his intensity. With her back to the action, Bosworth sashays in her black cocktail dress. Jones, dressed in a black suit and a salmon-colored shirt, gives the oval stage a discordant smile as she peers over her right shoulder. Two Cowboys veterans, Tony Romo and Jason Witten, are stealing glances at this unusual pair’s crooked two-step a few feet away. Jones leads Bosworth in a mini-twirl that develops into a hit-and-run half-hug as Strait closes the song. It appears as innocent as Jones, 71, is capable of making anything appear.
Bosworth responds, “Wow, this is great—tthank you, Mr. Jones,” and then she dashes back down the stairs of the room to greet her spouse. With a wink, Jones holds up a tall plastic cup bearing the recognizable Cowboys star, pours in his favorite summertime concoction, Johnnie Walker Blue Label (always on ice), and takes a taste of the smooth, smokey whiskey.
The glittering, wild celebration of the $1.25 billion pleasure palace Jones created for his terrible football team comes to an end with Jones’ farewell dance. Jones’ star-studded music party, held inside the owner’s enormous suite, had all the makings of a corporate retreat, complete with calligraphy name cards, a barbecue buffet, and an open bar. But it quickly turns into a square dance in a barnyard.
