Five days later in his office, Garrett exuded the same forward-looking “What’s next?” demeanor, an attitude that has taken root with his staff. After the loss in Green Bay, the hallways of Valley Ranch were not laden with defeat. Instead, there was a breeze of certainty, a sense that Garrett will lead the team for the foreseeable future.

A disbelieving Bryant had to be gingerly corralled off the field, but Garrett had moved on.

Directly behind him, coach Jason Garrett gave a brief head shake, imperceptible but for the wobble of his headset.

On the sidelines of Lambeau Field, Dez Bryant raised his sleeveless arms into the brisk air and awaited a ruling on his fourth-and-2 catch. As referee Gene Steratore reversed the call, 44 million TV viewers saw Bryant’s 26-year-old heart implode.

After signing a new five-year contract with the Dallas Cowboys, head coach Jason Garrett sat for a wide-ranging interview with Alan Peppard of The Dallas Morning News and Meredith Land of KXAS-TV (NBC5).

His freshly inked five-year, $30 million contract is a tangible manifestation of that certainty. More telling is the intangible sense that Garrett and Cowboys owner Jerry Jones have forged a zone of common trust.

“I anticipate Jason being the head coach of the Dallas Cowboys for the next five years,” says former quarterback Troy Aikman. That would make him head coach for nine and a half years, nearly double the next longest tenure of the Jones era.

“This situation is unique,” Aikman says. “These two guys have a history and they have a bond. It will serve them well when they hit some tough patches.”

The season began with exactly that scenario.

Following three 8-8 seasons, the expectation was that the Cowboys would finish at or below .500, but after the opener against San Francisco, those predictions seemed optimistic. At AT&T Stadium, the 49ers had a 25-point lead by halftime.

“I was one of the few people around here who was optimistic after we played San Francisco,” Garrett says. “They were a really good team. Tony [Romo] wasn’t quite healthy. We ran the ball. We stopped the run. How we responded to that loss was big. We were 0-1, then we were 6-1.”

But a question mark remained for the head coach who was in the last year of his contract. In the four months of the regular season, the conventional wisdom did a 180 from “Why is Garrett still here?” to “Why doesn’t he have a new contract?” Two days after the final game in Green Bay, a deal was struck.

“Build is a really important word for me,” he says. “We’re trying to build something we’re all proud of. When you get a five-year contract, that does give you the confidence to continue to do that. I’m also realistic. This game is about winning and losing.”

‘Who knew there was a genius there?’

On Garrett’s wide desk there is an empty bottle of Caymus Special Selection cabernet. Written in black felt-tip pen on the label, it says, “Jerry Jones, 1-14-15.”

“We opened a little wine after we signed the contract,” Garrett explains.

Twenty-six years ago, Tom Landry came to this same office on a Sunday and emptied the drawers that now hold Garrett’s files.

At his peak, Landry had 20 consecutive winning seasons, 13 division titles and five Super Bowl appearances.

At the start of his fifth season as head coach, Landry had just 13 wins.

Then-owner Clint Murchison Jr. gave him a 10-year contract not merely as an act of faith, but as a way to silence an adversarial press baying for blood.

“Everybody in town wanted him gone,” once recalled the late Dallas Morning News columnist Frank Luksa. “Who knew there was a genius there?”

“If you are trying to be great,” Garrett says, “there are always people who say, ‘That guy is crazy.’ We’ve all dealt with the naysayer thing. It’s important to be able not to listen.”

Sports radio? Garrett never listens. Social media? He doesn’t use it. In the car between home and Valley Ranch, “I listen to a lot of music,” he says. More often than not, it’s Bruce Springsteen.

“I’m a Jersey Shore guy,” he says unapologetically.

The school of Jimmy and Barry

Back up quarterback Jason Garrett looks up at the scoreboard in the 1999 Monday Night Football game versus the Minnesota Vikings at the Metrodome in Minneapolis — Dallas Morning News file photo

When Garrett arrived in Dallas in 1992, he was too young to be a journeyman, but neither was he a star. “I was just trying to make it in the NFL,” he says. After a stint with the Ottawa Rough Riders in Canada, Garrett signed as third-string quarterback for the Cowboys.

It was a fortuitous move that earned him three trips to the Super Bowl. It also landed him a front-row seat for the legendary coaching turnover from Jimmy Johnson to Barry Switzer.

“Whatever happened for Jimmy not to be here was shocking for all of us,” he says.

Twenty years later, the change would pay an unexpected dividend.

“One of the best things I did as a player was I paid attention,” he says. “I learned a lot from each of those guys.”

From Johnson, he learned about presence.

“I was two practice fields away handing off to the backs, but I felt like he was drilling a hole in the back of my head,” says Garrett. “He seemed to be everywhere.”

When the coaching change came, Garrett adjusted. “Coach Switzer’s style was different,” he says, “but I learned a ton from him, too. He did a really good job maintaining continuity of a championship team.”

House of Garrett

As important as Johnson and Switzer are to Garrett’s philosophy, the stamp on today’s Cowboys is unmistakably his own. It has his unique earnestness. To cynically dismiss that as a veneer is to misunderstand the core of Garrett.

“I have seven brothers and sisters,” he says. “We’re all a year apart. The culture of the household was about doing things the right way. It was about being your best. It was about playing hard. That had a huge impact on me.”

It’s a culture that he has projected onto the Cowboys.

Players who enter the team meeting room cannot avoid the large sign on the rear wall: “The Team, The Team, The Team.”

Signs on the room’s periphery include “The Ball, The Ball, The Ball” and “Attack, Attack, Attack,” but the focal point is “The Team.”

To enter Garrett’s office, visitors pass a large placard. It says “Dallas Cowboys Staff Code of Standards.” Each employee has signed it.

At the top of the list of 13 points is No. 1: The Team. “All decisions made in the best interest of team.”

Old Cowboys never die

In the long hallway outside his office, Garrett has filled the white walls with a more powerful subliminal message. While his predecessors largely ignored the Cowboys of the 1960s, ’70s and ’80s, Garrett sees them as a talisman.

A series of nearly life-size black-and-white photos depicts Don Meredith, young and handsome on the Cotton Bowl sidelines; Tony Dorsett gracefully dodging a Washington Redskins defender; Charlie Waters and Cliff Harris, heads exposed, sitting on their helmets on the Texas Stadium sidelines; “Bullet” Bob Hayes, the world’s fastest man, outrunning the Green Bay Packers; and Drew Pearson grabbing the Hail Mary in Minnesota.

“You can run from the past or you can embrace it,” Garrett says. “We’ve chosen to embrace it and understand where this franchise has been and uphold the standards that have been set for a long, long time.”

A shift and a nod

During this defining season, Garrett’s players added their own nod to their gridiron ancestors. When the Cowboys had safely ensured a victory against the St. Louis Rams, Tony Romo prepared to take the final snap of the game.

Unexpectedly and in unison, the offensive line lifted themselves and stood upright before settling back down for the snap. Known as the Landry shift, it was a signature move of the Dallas Cowboys during the ’60s and ’70s.

“When you’ve secured a win, you want to handle that situation with class and dignity,” says Garrett. “My only concern about the shift was that the other teams would think we were goofing on them. But it wasn’t received that way.”

When the Cowboys beat the New Orleans Saints, the Landry shift reappeared, and it returned when they defeated the reigning Super Bowl champion Seahawks in Seattle.

“It’s a tribute,” Garrett says.

Yet it is so much more.

It’s a warm rush to the subconscious of anyone who ever saw Roger Staubach take a victory knee as the clock clicked to zero. It’s the hope that this feeling could last for 20 consecutive seasons with the stadium roof open so God can watch his favorite team play.

Meredith Land of KXAS-TV (NBC5) contributed to this report.