Bickley: Ex-Card lost Tillman's dog tags
by Dan Bickley - Jan. 28, 2009 03:41 PM
The Arizona Republic
TAMPA - Take a moment to honor the lost generation of Cardinals, the ones who never had a fighting chance. Feel bad for the coaches and players who never enjoyed a level playing field in Arizona, much less an air-conditioned stadium full of screaming fans.
But most of all, feel bad for former special teams player Zack Walz.
He lost the dog tags sent to him by the late Pat Tillman.
"It was devastating. I was so depressed for so long that it was hard getting out of bed," Walz said. "And I had the hardest time telling Pat's family."
This awful story begins at a restaurant in northern California, after Tillman was released from his first tour of duty in Iraq. He had just declined a loophole to leave military service and resume his NFL career. He was having dinner with his entire family, and spotted Walz across the room.
"Out of nowhere, he runs up and tackles me in the bar," Walz said. "I mean, he laid me out. There was beer all over me, all over the floor."
Walz and Tillman were beyond close. They were former roommates. Occasionally, one of Walz's school buddies would crash on the couch. His name is Eric Byrnes.
As the night wore on, Walz found out that Tillman wasn't home to stay. He was heading back for more duty, this time to Afghanistan. The beer flowed, and before the two parted company, Walz summoned the courage.
Tagged for theft?
He asked if Tillman could order him a pair of dog tags. He said he'd wear them with honor, as a symbol of what Tillman stood for.
Shortly thereafter, Tillman's tags showed up at Walz's doorstep, in an envelope from his friend.
"I know he hounded Pat for those tags as soon as he joined the Army," Byrnes said. "He used to tell me, 'I can't wait until Pat gets back so I can try and get his dog tags.' He absolutely cherished those things. I'd told him if he wanted the tags so badly, he should've joined the Army with him."
But Walz kept his vow. He wore those tags everywhere. A few months after Tillman's death, he wore them to a charity event at a local bar, and when he got home that night, he took of his shirt. A sense of panic rushed over him. The tags were gone.
To this day, the night is hazy, the details murky.
"It was a packed house, really dark inside, people everywhere," Walz said. "I talked about the tags when I gave the speech at Pat's memorial service, and they became pretty popular. Everyone knew what they were. Everyone always wanted to see them.
"I went back to the restaurant the next morning. I had the custodians search the entire restaurant. I offered $10,000 to anyone who could get them back, no questions asked. I put up notices on craigslist and eBay and checked every day for responses. It's hard to think anyone could stoop so low, but I can't believe it was anything other than someone coming up and snatching them from my neck."
It's a bizarre story. Yet Byrnes said Tillman's peer group was prone to rowdy, physical behavior, and that a necklace snatching in a crowded bar might indeed go unnoticed.
Moving forward
Still, it took Walz nearly two years to tell Tillman's family. And he still remembers those awkward, anxious words to Pat's brother.
Kevin, you're not going to believe what happened . . .
"Every soldier, I believe, gets two tags," Walz said. "One thing that still bothers me to this day is that I should've taken one of the tags off and put it away in storage. I still could've worn the other tag. But obviously, I didn't think I was in danger of losing them."
Walz played 46 games for the Cardinals from 1998-2001, before injuries claimed his career. He still lives in the Valley, and along with a partner, now runs Student Athlete Showcase, a firm that helps match high school athletes with college recruiting opportunities. He'll be cheering on the Cardinals in Super Bowl XLIII, especially Adrian Wilson.
"I know Pat thought the world of him," said Walz, 32. "He used to point to him and say, 'That kid is going to be a stud.' "
Except Walz will surely feel pangs of guilt and remorse on Super Bowl Sunday. He was closer than most to a great American hero, and it has been a while since those tags have been around his neck. Just like his buddy, they don't appear to be coming back anytime soon.
"Look, Zack was heartbroken. He wore those things everywhere, even in the shower," Byrnes said. "But you know what I think? I think Pat's probably looking down and laughing at the situation, that Zack actually lost those tags. I think he'd find it quite funny."
by Dan Bickley - Jan. 28, 2009 03:41 PM
The Arizona Republic
TAMPA - Take a moment to honor the lost generation of Cardinals, the ones who never had a fighting chance. Feel bad for the coaches and players who never enjoyed a level playing field in Arizona, much less an air-conditioned stadium full of screaming fans.
But most of all, feel bad for former special teams player Zack Walz.
He lost the dog tags sent to him by the late Pat Tillman.
"It was devastating. I was so depressed for so long that it was hard getting out of bed," Walz said. "And I had the hardest time telling Pat's family."
This awful story begins at a restaurant in northern California, after Tillman was released from his first tour of duty in Iraq. He had just declined a loophole to leave military service and resume his NFL career. He was having dinner with his entire family, and spotted Walz across the room.
"Out of nowhere, he runs up and tackles me in the bar," Walz said. "I mean, he laid me out. There was beer all over me, all over the floor."
Walz and Tillman were beyond close. They were former roommates. Occasionally, one of Walz's school buddies would crash on the couch. His name is Eric Byrnes.
As the night wore on, Walz found out that Tillman wasn't home to stay. He was heading back for more duty, this time to Afghanistan. The beer flowed, and before the two parted company, Walz summoned the courage.
Tagged for theft?
He asked if Tillman could order him a pair of dog tags. He said he'd wear them with honor, as a symbol of what Tillman stood for.
Shortly thereafter, Tillman's tags showed up at Walz's doorstep, in an envelope from his friend.
"I know he hounded Pat for those tags as soon as he joined the Army," Byrnes said. "He used to tell me, 'I can't wait until Pat gets back so I can try and get his dog tags.' He absolutely cherished those things. I'd told him if he wanted the tags so badly, he should've joined the Army with him."
But Walz kept his vow. He wore those tags everywhere. A few months after Tillman's death, he wore them to a charity event at a local bar, and when he got home that night, he took of his shirt. A sense of panic rushed over him. The tags were gone.
To this day, the night is hazy, the details murky.
"It was a packed house, really dark inside, people everywhere," Walz said. "I talked about the tags when I gave the speech at Pat's memorial service, and they became pretty popular. Everyone knew what they were. Everyone always wanted to see them.
"I went back to the restaurant the next morning. I had the custodians search the entire restaurant. I offered $10,000 to anyone who could get them back, no questions asked. I put up notices on craigslist and eBay and checked every day for responses. It's hard to think anyone could stoop so low, but I can't believe it was anything other than someone coming up and snatching them from my neck."
It's a bizarre story. Yet Byrnes said Tillman's peer group was prone to rowdy, physical behavior, and that a necklace snatching in a crowded bar might indeed go unnoticed.
Moving forward
Still, it took Walz nearly two years to tell Tillman's family. And he still remembers those awkward, anxious words to Pat's brother.
Kevin, you're not going to believe what happened . . .
"Every soldier, I believe, gets two tags," Walz said. "One thing that still bothers me to this day is that I should've taken one of the tags off and put it away in storage. I still could've worn the other tag. But obviously, I didn't think I was in danger of losing them."
Walz played 46 games for the Cardinals from 1998-2001, before injuries claimed his career. He still lives in the Valley, and along with a partner, now runs Student Athlete Showcase, a firm that helps match high school athletes with college recruiting opportunities. He'll be cheering on the Cardinals in Super Bowl XLIII, especially Adrian Wilson.
"I know Pat thought the world of him," said Walz, 32. "He used to point to him and say, 'That kid is going to be a stud.' "
Except Walz will surely feel pangs of guilt and remorse on Super Bowl Sunday. He was closer than most to a great American hero, and it has been a while since those tags have been around his neck. Just like his buddy, they don't appear to be coming back anytime soon.
"Look, Zack was heartbroken. He wore those things everywhere, even in the shower," Byrnes said. "But you know what I think? I think Pat's probably looking down and laughing at the situation, that Zack actually lost those tags. I think he'd find it quite funny."
