In a game of competitors, Redskins quarterback Alex Smith transcends

It didn’t take long for Alex Smith to realize how bad it was.

While Houston Texans safety Kareem Jackson unleashed a war cry after a momentum-killing third down sack, Washington Redskins quarterback Alex Smith lay on the ground behind him, in the early stages of epiphany.

The $94 million quarterback had landed on all fours after being sandwiched between Jackson and J.J. Watt. He crawled only an inch before reality struck, past all the adrenaline and the stadium noise and the smell of disheveled Bermuda grass. He rolled onto his back, his right leg dangling as its own entity below the knee, and the calls for the trainers came. Swift and frantic.

But Smith didn’t listen. Maybe he heard all the noise. Maybe he heard the many players from both teams who flocked to give him well-wishes. Maybe he heard the trainers whisper words of console, as he rode into the shadow of the tunnel on the back of a cart. Maybe he heard. But he didn’t listen. With one of his life’s loves pried away from him so abruptly, there was only so much Smith could do.

And so the quarterback simply stared ahead as he left the field, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, his leg in a cast. He clasped his hands together, flat, palm to palm, giving a small nod to faith in a faithless moment, and waved to the crowd as they applauded his last act. And then his hands parted and went over his face. Drowning out the lights.

Maybe he thought to himself, in the many empty hours that come with being immobilized, “What did I do to deserve this?” If so, who could blame him for feeling scorned? The quarterback who’d been drafted No. 1 overall by the 49ers in 2005, only to underachieve and be under-appreciated throughout his career? The quarterback who’d won everything but the big game? The quarterback who put his team before himself at every destination, no matter the circumstances?

No one can blame Smith for feeling scorned, but if he did, it was no more than the human reaction; an instinctual variation of the mind that quickly faded. Because, in a sport full of competitors, Smith has consistently risen above such human inclinations. On the field, where it’s necessary, Smith is a true competitor. But off the field, he transcends this form.