There
was a man, who played safety for a professional team,
He
not only tackled, he hit so hard, milk would be separated from cream.
He
was paid millions to play his boyhood game in packed stands,
Buffeted
by the waves of sound from cheers and clapped hands.
Too
small for college, too slow for the NFL, but very, very intense,
Never
would you say this man held back or stood upon the fence
Pac-10
defensive player of the year, football was his desire path.
225
men ahead, in a world of speed and strength, would intensity take hold and
graft?
Franchise
record for tackles, always at full, unchecked speed,
Never
one to follow, always, by example, lead.
Bright
as well as intense, but more so loyal to his most inner core.
Even
when the Rams offered his salary times 16, he shook his head and closed the
door.
9/11
shook the nation, filled with grief, resolve and a desire to resist;
But
only this safety walked away from 3.8 million and as a Ranger did enlist.
Not
since Rocky Bleier risked his life and limb in Vietnam
Has
an NFL player for country put himself at risk of harm.
But
his nation was in a war of shadows and enemies of the night,
Sworn
to bring to her knees this nation of thousands of shining lights.
A
safety who could today be safe waiting for training camp to dawn,
Lies
dead in Afghanistan waiting for transport to an eternal, tranquil Arlington
lawn.
Freedom
is never free, never has been, never, ever will.
Pat
Tillman, a safety, joined the countless others who willingly paid the ultimate
bill.
As
we enjoy our comfort and safety, please stop for a moment, pause and reflect,
Pray
for the soul of Pat Tillman, who left safety, and died picking up our check.
May
this statute of Pat at Sun Devil Stadium remind us to never, ever forget
The
sacrifices of those putting nation before fortune and to whom we owe a great
debt
Michael
P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet
©April
24, 2004
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