By Tiki Barber
Special to NFL.com
(Sept. 20, 2004) -- This past weekend was our home opener, one of the biggest games of the year for every team. The players are revved up, the coaches are fired up and the fans are ready for a win. It was a great day for football, and an even better one after we beat the Redskins.
But with all that going on, one image kept going through my mind over and over again: The small, black, No. 40 decal we all wore on the back of our helmets to honor Pat Tillman. In Arizona, they retired his number during what was surely a very emotional halftime ceremony.
Pat Tillman's number was on every player's helmet and on Tiki Barber's mind on Sept. 19.
In sports, we often throw around words like "battle," "firepower," and "soldier." We "battle in the trenches," throw "bombs," run "blitzes" and strengthen our "air attack." We are talking about a game here, but for some people, these terms are life and death, Pat Tillman being one of them.
When I think about the sacrifice Pat Tillman made, it humbles me. Here was a 27-year-old man in the prime of his life. He was smart, hard-working, athletic and had movie star looks. The fact he was a professional football player was about 20th on the list of things to admire him for.
By now, we all know the story of his life but it's worth retelling.
He arrived at Arizona State in 1994 on the school's last football scholarship. He landed a spot on the end of the bench, where many players' dreams have gone unfulfilled. But he left four seasons later as the Pac-10's Defensive Player of the Year. Not long after that, he was selected by the Cardinals with the 226th pick of the 1998 NFL Draft. Two-hundred-twenty-sixth out of 241! In five months, he was Arizona's starting strong safety. And it was only five years after that he gave up a multi-million dollar contract to join the Army Rangers with his brother, Kevin.
I didn't know Pat personally, but I played against him eight times in my career. And every single time I lined up for a play, I scanned the Cardinals secondary to see where he was. He was a hard hitter, a great competitor and a presence on the field.
I actually think about Pat a lot. I think about what he gave up in his life to do what he believed in. At 27 years old, he had already done more than most people will do in three times that amount of time. His was a life definitely worth remembering. In a time when this country needs heroes, Pat, along with the 1,000 other servicemen and women who have given their lives, deserve our highest pedestal.
So while the No. 40 on our helmets reminds us of Pat's extraordinary life, it also invokes the gratitude we owe all members of our military. To all of them I say thank you -- we will never forget your sacrifices.
Dback JonDoing it My Way