Thanksgiving is a time when everyone can enjoy food, company, and of course, good football. Every year my family gathers around the television in a room that is saturated with the thick smell of turkey, stuffing, and gravy, and watches America’s team play football. I am, of course, referring to the Dallas Cowboys.

While the Thanksgiving feast is cooking, three generations of Cowboys fans sit around discussing all things Cowboys. While my brother and I are the hopeless idealists, defending quarterback Tony Romo, and projecting a brighter future for the team, my grandfather is the seasoned cynic, saying things like, “I cannot believe the Cowboys have sunk to this level of offensive ineptitude,” and my father is the yankee who wishes that we were watching basketball.

The Cowboys have been playing the Thanksgiving game since 1966, and as long as I can remember, they have been a staple of the Thanksgiving tradition for my family.

On Thanksgiving, no one tells each other to turn off the T.V., and no one complains if we talked too much football.

This year, my entire family sat on the couch and watched the Cowboys hand the Oakland Raiders an embarrassing defeat.

During the game, we could smell our family’s various signature dishes cooking. My grandparents made a delicious stuffing with pecans, my aunt made her famous cranberry sauce, and everyone helped cook thanksgiving’s main attraction.

This year we decided to cook a “turducken,” which is a chicken stuffed inside of a duck stuffed inside of a turkey. It was a fantastic indulgence that went perfectly with our football-saturated conversation.

While my family does like the Cowboys, I understand that there are many people out there who don’t (mostly jealous Panthers fans). But even if you hate the Cowboys, you watch them anyway, because football on thanksgiving is a tradition.

Every time I break that wishbone, I wish for a Cowboys victory.