The-Hogs.net - Washington Football Discussion, Redskins to Commanders Era

The limb is a medical miracle, a combination of body parts stitched together, bolted in place. It’s darker than the rest of his body, shaded red, no longer straight and covered in scars that look like a baseball’s stitching. Chunks of flesh and tendon, with veins protruding from kneecap to ankle; they’re stacked like Jenga blocks, offering a confusing reminder that Smith, now 36, actually, willingly, played professional football while balancing on a body part that’s badass, bionic and horrific all at once. I confess that I can’t square the image and the inspirational story behind its existence. Don’t worry, he says.

For the month he spent laid-up there, a curtain separated him from the truth he could not face, hiding the damage. On the side he could not see, his skin darkened, turning black, fluids coloring white sheets. Liz emphasized how “cool” the scar would be, along with what progress she could highlight. Smith stared at the curtain for weeks, unable to pull it back. When he did, finally, he turned away. He wanted to vomit. “I wasn’t ready for what I saw,” he admits. “Grotesque. Deformed.”