NFL star embraces life by shining his light on others

Did you happen to see Emmitt Smith's Aug. 13 acceptance speech as a member of the class of 2010 NFL Hall of Fame? It moved me. Put a lump in my throat. And to think: The only time I ever root for the Dallas Cowboys is when they are playing the Minnesota Vikings in what I fondly call The Antipathy Bowl. Mostly I hope for them to beat each other into oblivion.

But I recognize class when I see it.

Class? Emmitt's speech revealed so much more than that. The NFL's all-time rushing leader was nakedly authentic. Inspired. His speech contained the dance partners I admire most: gratitude and humility. Oh, how these two things do dance! It's beautiful to watch.

Emmitt shared the stage with the other inductees, the same way he shares his life. Then he shared the stage ... with everybody. He was grateful for his employers. His coaches. His teammates. Grateful for the fans of football and fans of the Cowboys. And then he turned his attention to family.

His father. His mother. His brothers and sisters. His cousins. Emmitt even addressed his father-in-law, saying, "I will continue to do everything in my power to keep your daughter, and my wife, safe and happy." See, I'm a guy who is rather "Old World" and traditional. I love this. When a father puts his daughter's hand into another man's hand at a wedding altar, he surrenders his greatest treasure. And a good man never forgets the sober duty thus conveyed, or his gratitude for the man who conveyed it.

Then a pause in Emmitt's speech. He looked down, steeling himself. Gathering himself emotionally. And, as if psychically, the audience knew what was coming. Felt it. "Mooooooose" came the cry, bathing the arena in love, in warmth, in appreciation. Emmitt asked Daryl Johnston to stand.

Daryl, aka "Moose," No. 48. A fullback who ended his career with more passing receptions than carries. Daryl has three Super Bowl rings. Daryl will never be in the Hall of Fame. All he did, Sunday after Sunday, was plow the way for Emmitt Smith to be Emmitt Smith. He shined his light on Emmitt, without grudge or complaint, sacrificing his body. Sacrificing personal glory. Come to think of it, it seems there was nothing Daryl wouldn't sacrifice to do his job.

And Emmitt, eyes filled with tears, voice trembling, soul gaping -- gratitude takes us apart -- thanked Daryl. And because he did, and because of the way he did it, something about the whole universe was better.

See, the capacity for gratitude is itself humility. Gratitude and humility ultimately dance as One. The only people who can say "thank you" are people who have learned of dependence and interdependence. Which means people who have traded in the equation of what they deserve for the celebration of what they have. Because, if you will look closely, you will find there is no consistent relationship between merit and treasure. No consistent relationship between blessings and deservedness. The best of life is often not a result of what we deserve, and thank God for that! When I reflect seriously on what I deserve, I mostly want to go hide.

For Emmitt Smith, it seems there is no such thing as personal glory. Glory is not something he grasps after, possesses or owns. Emmitt's glory is not about Emmitt. Rather, his glory pours through him like light through a prism, showering a rainbow on everyone around him.

Especially when he shares the light and shines the light on those whose lives shined a light on him.

You don't have to be an inductee to the Hall of Fame to live like Emmitt Smith. Who has shined a light on you? Who in your history regularly walked off the stage to make room for you to stand there? Who relentlessly poured their lives into your own just because it made them smile to see you happy, thriving and victorious? Can you see their faces? Can you feel their love?

Call them. Right now. And be grateful.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling Wellness Center in Las Vegas and the author of "Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing" (Stephens Press). His columns appear on Sundays. Contact him at skalas@reviewjournal.com.