Emmitt Smith - The Emmitt Zone

Copyright 1994 by Emmitt J. Smith III

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Crown Publishers, Inc., 201 East 50th Street, New York, New York 10022. Member of the Crown Publishing Group.

Random House, Inc. New York, Toronto, London, Sydney, Auckland

CROWN is a trademark of Crown Publishers, Inc.

The Emmitt Zone is a trademark registration pending, owned by Emmitt, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Smith, Emmitt.

The Emmitt zone / by Emmitt Smith with Steve Delsohn.

1. Smith, Emmitt. 2. Football playersUnited StatesBiography. 3. Dallas Cowboys (Football team)History.
I. Delsohn, Steve. II. Title.
GV939.S635A3 1994
796.332092dc20
[B]

94-20939

eISBN: 978-0-307-81630-6

v3.1

This book is dedicated to my family for providing a loving, nurturing environment that ensured the foundation for my success; to young people everywhere dreams do come true; and to the Lord above who makes all things possible.

E.S.

For Vaughn M. Anthonyfather, husband, fighter until the end. May God bless you and keep you.

S.D.

I could never thank all of the people who contributed to my success on and off the field. I would like to acknowledge the following individuals for their respective roles in my life.

To my mother for her unconditional love, nurturing, and positive impact on my life, and to my father, my first football hero, for his guidance.

My late grandmother Erma L. Smith and my grandfather Emmitt J. Smith, Sr., for their wisdom and teachings.

To my sisters and brothers, Marsha, Connie, Erik, Emil, and Emory, for their ongoing love, support, and friendship.

My high school coach, Dwight Thomas, for providing me with my first opportunity to experience competitive football.

The University of Florida, my teammates, coaches, students, fans, and alumni for providing me with one of the best times and educational experiences of my life.

My fraternity brothers, Phi Beta Sigma, for showing me the meaning of brotherhood.

My Cowboy teammates, coaches, and administration, who I must thank for allowing me to be successful on the field during my professional career to date.

My management team for steering me in the right direction off the field. My attorney, the General, Mike Ferguson for his relentless attention to detail, loyalty, and commitment. My agent, Richard Howell, for his patience in contract negotiations.

My marketing consultant, Werner Scott, of Advantage Marketing Group (AMG) for his strategic vision, and Larry Lundy along with the rest of the AMG team for making things happen.

And finally Steve Delsohn, my co-writer, Frank Weimann, my literary agent, and Jane Cavolina of Crown Publishers, for bringing my thoughts to print.

E.S.

For their generous help and support, thanks to Frank Weimann, Scott Waxman, Jane Cavolina, Dakila Divina, Shari Wenk, David Rubenstein, Brian Peterson, Werner Scott, Larry Lundy, Lynn Conway, Mike Ferguson, Harriette Peebles, Cheryl Booth, Tricia and Joe Robinson, and Emma and Mary Kay Delsohn.

S.D.

G iants Stadium. New York against Dallas. Sunday, January 2, 1994. A cold, tense, punishing afternoon of professional football. Just before halftime, I burst through a hole on the right and start motoring toward the end zone. Forty-six yards later, safety Greg Jackson slams me to the artificial turf. Im rolling around in pain. My shoulder is separated.

Up until I got hurt, we were leading New York 100 in a game that was huge for both teams. The sixteenth and final game of the regular season, its winner would gain the National Football Conference East title, a bye the following week, and home field advantage throughout the playoffs. The losers that day would also make the playoffs. But theyd enter as the wild card, and frequently this means trouble. Its always harder to win the Super Bowl from the road.

Going into that final Sunday, I was also chasing my third straight rushing title, something only three players in history had ever accomplished. My first rushing title was probably the sweetest, but this year there was a twist. A very personal twist. Back in September, in the midst of a contract dispute with Jerry Jones, I had sat out our first two games. And in my opinion, Jerry had openly questioned my value to the Cowboys.

But that was just talk. The only statement I needed to make was on the football field, and I felt I could make it loudest by overcoming the odds: In the history of the NFL, no runner had missed two games and still won the rushing title.

With more than 100 yards before it was halftime, I was on the verge in New York when I got injured.

It happened on my longest gain of the day. Late in the second quarter, I ran through an enormous hole inside our right tackle, put a move on the safety racing at me from inside, then turned the right corner and headed north and south. But this was my nineteenth carry in just the first half, my legs didnt have their usual strength, and Im not known for my world-class speed to begin with. Making my way downfield, I couldnt pull away from their other safety, Greg Jackson.

As I saw him about to catch me, I protected the ball with the left side of my body, while breaking my fall with my right. Jacksons hit was only routine, but it pushed me down hard on my right elbow. Then Jacksons body weight fell on my elbow too. As the pain shot up to my shoulder, I immediately knew I was injured. My entire right arm felt dead and I couldnt move it.

Even when Im not hurt, I tend to get up slowly. Its something my father taught me my rookie year. He told me, Son, lay down on that ground until everyone else gets off you. Dont waste all your energy pushing that weight off your back. Reserve some of that energy for the next play.

It was sound advice and I still follow it today, but this time I had no choice. For a moment or two, the pain was so sharp it kept me pinned to the turf. I didnt stay there too long, though. Not with all the Giants staring at me.

As I went to the sideline, some of the feeling returned to my right arm. So with just two minutes left until halftimewhen they could better evaluate the damageI only sat out two plays before trotting back to our huddle. The instant the New York fans saw this, they let out a groan. I didnt take any offense, though. With so much on the line for both teams that afternoon, I saw it instead as a sign of their respect.

Troy Aikman threw two completions just before halftime, and an Eddie Murray field goal put us ahead 130. I headed straight for our training room, where our trainer helped me out of my shoulder pads and our doctor took X rays.

My shoulder was separated, they told me a few minutes later. They called it a grade-two, which is worse than grade-one, but not as severe as grade-three. In a grade-three, they explained, theyd already be able to see a deformity in the shoulder. I didnt have that, they said.

All in all I thought it was decent news. At least nothing got broken.