
by Norman J. Fulkerson
In the center of West Point's historic campus
in upstate New York stands a statue of Gen. Douglas MacArthur.
Below him is a plaque bearing the words of wisdom he once
spoke. "On the fields of friendly strife are sewn the
seeds that upon other fields, on other days, shall bear
the fruits of victory."
No one understood these
words better than Pat Tillman, a former professional football
player. He died April 22, on another field, when his 2nd
Battalion 75th Regiment unit was ambushed in their efforts
to chase down Osama Bin Laden during Operation Mountain
Storm in southeast Afghanistan.
Of all the details I read about this extraordinary man's
life, one anecdote seemed to stand out and define him. Mark
Brand, a friend of Tillman and Assistant Athletic Director
at Arizona State University related how Tillman would often
sneak into the University's football stadium after hours
and climb to the top of a 200-foot light tower. "He
would sit in the basket and study, ponder and think,"
he said. "I can't tell you how dangerous that was."
The fact that it was risky obviously did not matter to
Pat Tillman. In his search for a higher ideal he wanted
to escape everything, even the football field, dwarfed below
him. Pat Tillman was a very good football player. However,
he was studying something much higher than playbooks in
his tower atop Sun Devil stadium. He was studying life.
He received a marketing degree in 3 1/2 years that some
said would take five. He graduated summa cum laude with
an impressive 3.84 grade point average. According to fellow
student, Ed Odeven: "When he wasn't studying the finer
points of, say, advertising campaigns, he was reading lengthy
philosophy books, sometimes a few at a time." 1
With so many athletes appearing in court rooms these days,
it is unbelievably refreshing to see someone of Tillman's
caliber uphold higher principles. It is so rare to see higher
values like honor, loyalty and unselfishness in mortals
of the 21st Century.
What motivated this man?
It was not football or money. He gave them both up to
join the army, taking a pay cut of close to $3.5 million
to do so. It was not cheering fans. Tim Layden, a senior
writer for Sports Illustrated wrote: "Pat
was the kind of guy who would rather play football in a
parking lot than in a stadium with 100,000 people watching."2
No, Pat Tillman was a man in search of a dream. He wanted
something higher than himself and would not allow anything
to get in his way. ASU Coach Bruce Snyder found this out
the hard way when he suggested red-shirting Tillman because
he was not big enough, tall enough or fast enough to make
the team as a freshman. According to Mark Brand, Pat looked
the veteran coach in the eye. "You can red shirt me
or you can play me. It's your choice, but I am not going
to be around after four years, I have a life to live."
Something not seen since the 40's
For too long now, people have had to put up with whimpering
"underpaid" athletes. Many are starting to realize
that in a war torn world where terrorism is the constant
threat, there might be something of greater value than million
dollar salaries.
Pat Tillman comes along and does something unheard of
since the 40's when athletes and actors alike joined the
military in large numbers. Baseball great Ted Williams simply
requested a deferment and public opinion castigated him
for it. That is because the public expected it from them
in the 40's, but not today.
When visiting the ASU web page, I saw a picture of a little
boy standing in front of a memorial dedicated to Tillman.
He was all alone, gazing up in admiration at his hero. In
a world where roles models are few and far between, Tillman
stands alone. He is someone a father could point out to
his son and say: "That is Pat Tillman, the NFL great
who turned his back on fame and fortune to serve his country
in time of need."
Turns down millions out of loyalty
He could then tell all the facts that leave one almost
speechless. He was drafted by the Arizona Cardinals in the
seventh round, almost at rock bottom but through shear determination
made a name for himself. Subsequently he was offered a $9
million contract with the newly crowned Super Bowl champions,
the St. Louis Rams. Tillman's agent Frank Bauer was stunned
when he turned it down. "He said he wanted to remain
loyal to the people who were loyal to him," Bauer said.3
The day after the September 11 attacks, that loyalty manifested
itself again. While the nation wept over the dead, Tillman
reflected on family members who had served their country
and expressed his need to follow their example. "My
great grandfather was at Pearl Harbor, and a lot of my family
has...gone and fought in wars, and I really haven't done
a thing as far as laying myself on the line like that."4
He went on to make his family and country proud by following
his words with action. He did not just don a uniform and
carry a gun however, he went all out by joining the elite
Rangers where a good percentage of those who try out fail.
This did not surprise those who knew him. Before the 2000
NFL season Tillman ran a marathon "just to see what
it would be like". Evidently he liked it. The next
year he ran a 70 mile triathlon as a warm-up for the 2001
season.
A sacrifice worthy of recognition
Although most Americans are edified by the selflessness
of Pat Tillman, others are strangely uncomfortable having
the spotlight on one individual. The great sin of today
is not being different, (we have plenty of those) it is
to be more.
Tillman admirably made the decision to join the army and
did so discreetly, refusing interviews and media coverage
out of a desire to be anonymous like everyone else.
"He viewed his decision," said Arizona Sen.
John McCain, "as no more patriotic than that of his
less fortunate, less renowned countrymen."
The New York Times writer Harvey Araton counsels
his readers to "respect" Tillman's wishes for
anonymity since "nothing could more trivialize the
mounting deaths of those less fortunate and less renowned...than
the tossing around of clichés like footballs on the
virtues of one man's heroism and sacrifice."5
Such a commentary misses the point entirely. In the name
of justice tribute must be paid to honor the life and the
death of someone that was not like all the rest and therefore
deserved to be singled out and recognized.
Thank God for Pat Tillman
While, I do not deny that there was a spicier side of this
former athlete. This should not be imitated. However, focusing
on the unselfish sacrifice he made for his country, many
young people today and in the future who thirst for role
models have found one in Pat Tillman.
Gen George S. Patton once said that it was wrong to mourn
the death of men like Tillman. "Rather we should thank
God that such men lived."
And were I as courageous as him, I would climb to the
top of "Tillman's tower" high above Sun Devil
Stadium and repeat the words of Patton for all to hear.
Thank God such men as Pat Tillman lived.
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