It's just not right, what you're doing to him. This Emmitt Smith bashing, this short-term memory problem some of you have, it's ugly and cruel. But then again, it's nothing new.
Get Emmitt out of here! Bring back Paul Palmer!
Related Content
More About
You ran Troy Aikman out. When his passes started to slip, when each throw didn't have smoke spewing from the seams, the front-running Cowboys fans hollered for a replacement--any replacement. It didn't matter that No. 8 had helped engineer so many winning seasons, or that he'd returned home three times as an NFL conqueror and laid the vicarious joys of Super Bowl victories at your feet. That was in the past, and there's nothing more heinous, when talking of the achievements of active-roster Cowboys, than using the past tense. (Retired players, however, can do nothing wrong. If we just had Tony Tolbert...) So at the end, when he was a concussion case who'd lost his Pro Bowl form, when he should have received respect and loyalty for time served, he was abandoned to discover a local truism: Heroes around here are cheap and disposable.
Smith is finding that out. He hears it on the radio now--all those hollow Ticket-heads regurgitating the misguided thoughts of the station's simple hosts. He reads it in The Dallas Morning News, where suspect scouting-service evaluations are passed off as gospel. He hears it in the stands, where applause still find his ears, but some harsh boos do, too. Each day the mob gains strength and volume.
"I'm not going to spend a lot of energy or time on that, or focus on what people think," Smith says. He's wearing a frown and a gray sweat suit. His arms are folded. "All my life, people thought I was too small and not fast enough. They said I wasn't going to make it in college; they said I wasn't going to make it in the professional ranks. Here I am 13 years later, and they're still saying the same things.
"With that said and done...I just call them player-haters. They're jealous. They're not doing nothing that I'm doing. They're not doing some of the same things that I've done. They sit back on their hands, they sit back on their couches, eating their McDonald's, or eating their chips and dip, drinking their brew, getting driz-unk, and calling in on the weekday shows, and making their hilarious statements about whatever they want to say. They're feeding into what some of the people are bringing out there. They're gullible. Take the time--understand the game if you want to make a legitimate statement. You make a legitimate statement, I can respect that. I can respect criticism, I can respect that."
There are things that bother me about this town, but my editor tells me that continually harping on those issues is tantamount to beating the horse that I slaughtered and sold for Grade-D meat about 30 columns back. Fine. But I should remind you that I've never liked the Cowboys, and generally watching them suffer causes me silent joy. That's why it pains me to say this: Smith is right. If the fact that I'm the one defending your beloved Pokes doesn't cause you to break out in large, pus-filled sores, then you have no shame.
Now, there's no denying the obvious: The man isn't who he once was. Smith was never quick to begin with--one NFC East scout said "he runs with heavy feet"--and he's not going to run over a whole lot of people, either. But you have to place things in the proper context. Despite that "impressive" win against Carolina, and barring some strange, unforeseen change in fortune, the Cowboys aren't heading to the Super Bowl this year. Doubtless this comes as a shock to many of you, particularly those of you clutching airline tickets to San Diego the way a hobo takes hold of a cheese sandwich. Hell, making the playoffs will probably take a supreme effort, so it's not as though coach Dave Campo is forfeiting team success by marching Smith (ever so slooowly) toward personal greatness.
"I'll tell you what really bothers me about it is the fact that sometimes people are trying to compare things that are not on par with each other," Smith says evenly. "That happens quite a bit. Sometimes people are naïve or not really fully aware of what's happening. It's not like I'm in control of a lot of things that occur. Never once did you hear me say that I got 16,000 yards by myself. You never would hear me say that.
"As far as I'm concerned, I am playing a team sport, and whatever happens, I'm going to try to give my best. I'm going to work with whatever I have to work with, and try to make something happen when I get the opportunity to, and that's about all I can do. Obviously in some cases, that may not be good enough for people, they may expect more, they may want more."
You do want more, don't you? At least some of you do. Maybe it's understandable. You've been spoiled with winning. You're gluttons; you want fat success, and the sooner the better.
