Emmitt Smith's dogs are barking. It’s early last Friday afternoon, not even two days since the sure-to-be NFL Hall-of-Famer stunned friends, acquaintances -- and even his wife -- by being crowned Dancing with the Stars’ newest champion. This morning he Tangoed for
Regis and Kelly, and is now negotiating his way out of a twirl on the
Ellen DeGeneres Show. In between, he napped. He answers the door of his midtown Manhattan hotel suite clad only in a terry robe (there’s an image for you, ladies).
Now, pro football’s all-time leading rusher just wants to stay off his feet.
Smith, 37, has never been confused with
Fred Astaire. But the former
Dallas Cowboy
star says he took a “smart, calculated risk” in agreeing to participate in the stupid-popular Stars competition. He relied on years of studying game films and playbooks to dissect the first two seasons, particularly the successes and missteps of former competitors
Evander Holyfield
,
Master P
and
Jerry Rice
, last season’s runner-up. “I knew I could not be any worse than Master P,” Smith said, settling into a comfortable chair. “He didn’t put forth any effort. Jerry put best foot forward. I felt I could come somewhere in between. I could do the job. I was prepared to accept any criticism. Most important was to have fun and not take it too seriously.
“Football,” he says, “was life and death.”
It never seemed that way to Smith, a stud since Little League football in Pensacola, Fla. Through three years at the University of Florida and 15 in the NFL, he was powerful, efficient and durable. Until his next-to-last run -- one of two “good-bye” seasons with the
Arizona Cardinals
-- Smith never missed more than two games in any season. All told, injuries forced him out of only 13 of 239 games. “Thankfully,” he says, “I avoided the big one.”
Today, Smith is most thankful for those who told him long ago to prepare for life after football. His mom told him to get a job when he was in 8th grade and wanted a pair of fashionable
Jordache JEANS she -- with four boys -- simply could not afford. “She got me a job in the nursing home where she worked,” he recalls. “I cut grass, mopped floors, I changed linen. I painted. Janitorial work. I earned and saved my money. One day mom asked me to borrow some money. I went in my room and gave her couple of hundred from my savings. It felt good. It was a valuable lesson on the benefits of hard work and what it felt like to give it away.”
Most of us are touched along the way by someone who steers us unknowingly towards our life’s mission. It usually happens casually, almost innocently. And rarely do we recognize at the time its momentous nature. In this Smith is like the rest of us. And while it is not surprising his journey was nudged by a Little League football coach in Pensacola, the direction that nudge took him just might be. “I stayed at his house every Friday because I usually had to lose weight to play in the games,” Smith says. “He lived in a 3,000 or 3,500-sq-foot house. I lived in The Courts where me and my three brothers stayed in the same room. One day I asked him what he did for living. He said construction. He took me to his office, and showed me the drawing boards and floor plans. He told me how to read them. I was like, ‘Cool. I like the way he’s living. This might be something I want to do.’”
The seed planted, Smith nurtured it even as we watched him set rushing records and win three Super Bowls. In college he took drafting classes and planned to study architecture until a counselor discouraged him, pushing him instead toward another major: public recreation. “It made sense at the time because it looked like I was going to leave after my junior year and they said [public recreation] was something it would be easier for me to come back and finish at a later time,” he says. “It was cool.” (Smith got his degree in 1996)
The Dallas rookie did not know he would play the equivalent of about three pro careers, of course. So when he received the first check of his $3.2 million deal he did not dwell on the figure one thinks might catch the eye of a kid from the projects. The signing bonus was $1,000,050, but it was the taxes deducted that struck Smith. “Seven hundred and forty thousand,” he recalls, as if he looked at the check this morning. “That’s when it hit me that I needed something outside the game I needed to pursue.”
Real estate remained that pursuit. In his first year, he says he bought two lots in his hometown for $37,500 each and later sold them for $125,000 per lot.
He later bought condos for $275,000 and sold them for $375,000
He invested in some Walgreen's drug stores with his family and invested in a couple of real estate funds. (“I’m still getting residuals from those.”)
Being a Cowboy, Smith inevitably crossed paths with
Roger Staubach
, the franchise’s legendary quarterback and now one of the most successful jocks-turned businessmen ever. A global real estate advisory enterprise, The
Staubach Company
specializes in office space, industrial and retail development. The company’s website says it performed more nearly 7,000 transactions worth $27 billion in its most recent fiscal year. “When I was still playing, he said, ‘One of these days you ought to come run my company,’” Smith says with a smile. “I said, ‘Yeah, right.’”
The two men chatted on several subsequent occasions and earlier this year the older Cowboy legend helped the younger Cowboy legend form
Smith / Cypress Partners, a commercial real estate firm specializing in build-to-suit projects. A certified minority business enterprise (Smith owns 51%); Smith/Cypress is run by Chris Maguire, who founded and built the retail operation at The Staubach Company. “What do I bring to the table?” Smith asks. “They have the expertise over me, but I’ll gain that. I have a name and I can get into some doors. Now once I get in the doors I have a team behind me that can execute.”
The first project developed by Smith/Cypress is a 239,000-square-foot shopping center in Phoenix with
Mervyn’s, the retail giant, signed as the anchor tenant. Smith says current book value of the project is $35-45 million. “Once it’s completed and reappraised it could be a $50- to $60-million dollar project,” Smith says.
Click here to continue this article