PHILADELPHIA – The bullets don’t care. The mortar rounds don’t know who you were or what you stood or, what you sacrificed or whom you’re leaving behind.
Pat Tillman walked away from NFL millions because he believed in something bigger than the money. He died Thursday at age 27 for what he believed and for the country that embodies those beliefs.
Tillman is no greater hero than any of the others who are fighting and dying. That is meant not to diminish his courage and commitment, but as a compliment to every man and woman in uniform. Tillman’s life is worth no more or less than any of the others that have been lost.
We all know about Pat Tillman because he played football, because his decision to enlist in the Army made national headlines.
He was the classic, gritty overachiever undersized for the NFL but possessed of enough heart and determination to make it impossible for the coaches to call his name on cutdown day. A linebacker at Arizona State, he was a seventh-round pick of the Cardinals who made the roster as a safety and special-teamer.
As a restricted free agent, he was offered a new deal by the St. Louis Rams. Tillman decided to play for less in Arizona out of loyalty to his team. In September of the next season, terrorists flew airplanes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.
Tillman finished the season, played out his contract.
The Cardinals offered him a new deal worth $3.6 million, but he declined. Not because another team was offering more, but because he and his brother Kevin had made a decision.
They were enlisting in the Army. They would use their youth and their strength and their athletic ability (Kevin was a minor-league baseball player) to help prevent another attack on their country. They wanted to be Army Rangers, the best of the best. Of course, they both made it. The brothers were in the same platoon. Kevin was there when Pat was killed in a firefight.
The bullets don’t care.
His death makes so much of what we fuss and argue about seem ridiculous. Larry Bowa thinks the media are out to get him?
Jayson Williams might lose his freedom and life of ease because of some stupid, thoughtless action?Eli Manning doesn’t want to play in San Diego? NFL teams will go into their “war rooms” to choose college players today?
Petty nonsense, all of it.
Pat Tillman, you figure, would hate this attention. When he decided to enlist, he turned down requests from the media for interviews. He declined when asked whether TV cameras could follow him through basic training. None of this was about Tillman.
He didn’t seek glory or special treatment because of his status as an NFL player. He wanted, demanded, the same treatment as everyone else.
Tillman wasn’t making a gesture by joining the Army, he was making a statement. It was the same statement, the same commitment made by every single individual who serves in our armed forces.
Tillman was celebrated for walking away from fame and money, but it is just as difficult to walk away from a husband or wife, from sons and daughters, from safe homes and regular jobs.
The best way to honor Pat Tillman is to remember all of those who make the sacrifice he made.
The Tillman brothers were moved to enlist because of what happened on that Tuesday morning in September 2001. While most of us got back to the distractions of the everyday – whom did Donald Trump fire this week, will A.I. be back with the Sixers? – they would not or could not.
The bullet that found Pat Tillman didn’t care why he was there, or what he could have been doing instead. It didn’t care about freedom or commitment or the greater good.
The bullets don’t care.
That’s why we must.
(c) 2004, The Philadelphia Inquirer. Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.

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