As (dumb) luck would have it, I was probably the last person to do an extended interview with Vikes running back Robert Smith before he up and retired last week at the ripe old age of 28. Looking back, what actually revealed the most about Smith were the questions he wouldn't answer.

Despite the commish's pompous protestations, the NFL is drowning in the sewage of greed, crime and anti-heroes. Smith didn't fit in. He is a man of character who, while rising to the highest level, managed to keep the game and himself in perspective. His willingness to walk away from the millions of dollars he was about to receive as a free agent -- in order to avoid the awful, hunched-over, half-crippled gait of most retired NFL players -- is further proof of that. As were the pictures in his locker of the terminally ill children that he had spent countless hours with during the season.

For reasons I don't quite understand, though, Smith is always portrayed as a "renaissance man" -- a term he found silly and trite. Let's face it, a history degree, a telescope and an interest in philosophy and chemistry doesn't make you stand out as an intellect anywhere but inside a football locker room.

"Not much in football makes Robert tick," said his best friend on the team, punter Mitch Berger. "He's the only guy in this league who you'll see getting treatment in the training room, reading some big fat book on the history of organic chemistry. Heck, I didn't even know chemistry had a history."

I rest my case.

Smith and I talked for a while in the lobby of the Vikes practice facility as he prepared to tape a TV interview. In retrospect, clues to his decision popped up in almost every answer. We talked a bit about his upcoming month-long trip to Australia. And I asked him how all his other interests helped him with football. "It makes me realize that football is not the most important thing in the world," he said. "And no matter how much you achieve, in the grand scheme of things, this is still just a game."

Smith then mentioned, almost in passing, that mentally, running back is the easiest position on the field. On that same day a Vikes assistant coach worried aloud that the game had become boring to Smith. And so, when there was a pause, I hit him with the question I was getting at all along: "Does football challenge you enough intellectually to hold your interest for several more years?"

There was a long, drawn-out, uncomfortable silence, until Smith finally shifted in his seat, stared me right in the eye and said, "I'm not gonna answer that question."

My guess is Smith, the Vikes' all-time leading rusher who led the NFC with 1,521 yards rushing in 2000, quit the game first and foremost because it frustrated the hell out of him. After all, this is a guy who had studied the stars, the arts, the piano, computers, philosophy and military history. Yet he couldn't quite master the dumbest thing he ever did -- pro football. And I think deep down inside that drove him absolutely bonkers.

He hates the term "injury prone" almost as much as "renaissance man". But it was an accurate description. In eight seasons Smith was plagued by everything from ankle, knee, hip and hernia problems to inner-ear infections and the chicken pox. He played only one full season (in 2000) and missed, on average, almost four games a year.

For that reason, he would have had to put in several more very productive seasons to even be considered among the all-time greats. Imagining that, while staring down the scalpel yet again, prodded him to walk away from football while he still could.

"It had to be so frustrating for Robert to not be able to show his full ability all those years," said Berger. "Finally, he got to do that this year and it was kinda like he was saying, 'I can do this as long as I want.' But, something tells me he is not going to be one of those guys who plays forever. Robert has a lot more to offer the world than just being a running back."

Of all the compliments Robert Smith collected during his unique, eight-year NFL career, something tells me he will cherish that one the most.

David Fleming, a senior writer for The Magazine, shares his perspective each week on ESPNMAG.com. Check out Dave's feedback file, and see who's the WHYLO of the Week. E-mail flemfile@aol.com.