Remembering Pat Tillman, the football player

SANDPOINT — When I think of Pat Tillman, most of the reflection is on him as a football player and highly unique individual.

Much of the media’s focus on Tuesday, the 10th anniversary of his death, was about the very end of his life.

This homage will focus on the former.

I first noticed Tillman while visiting my brother Jake at Camp Tontozona, where the Arizona State football team held its annual fall two-a-day practices.

A number of the players beat the heat between practices by jumping into a very small reservoir of water surrounded by rocks. A few of the players jumped from a rock about 15 feet high. Tillman stood out, launching a high-arcing layout back flip to near perfection. He would continue to stand out on the football field.

The 5-11, 210-pound San Jose native became a one-man wrecking crew as an undersized linebacker, routinely flying up and making tackles for loss in Pac-10 backfields. With his trademark long hair flying out of his helmet, he helped lead the Sun Devils to the Rose Bowl as a junior, nearly winning a national championship before falling to Ohio State in a heartbreaking loss. The image of a spent Tillman, head hanging down after the loss, is still fresh in my mind.

The following year he became one of the best playmakers in the country, earning Pac-10 Defensive Player of the Year honors, before being drafted in the final round by the NFL’s Arizona Cardinals.

A free spirit and free thinker, Tillman loved to wrap philosophy and other deep topics with coaches and fellow players. To relax and think, he would often free climb to the top of the 200-foot light towers at Sun Devil Stadium, demonstrating the same fearlessness he brought to the field.

In 2000, Tillman tallied 155 tackles and nine pass deflections as a strong safety for the Cardinals, ultimately turning down a $9 million offer from the Rams out of loyalty to the Cardinals. He became a bit of a cult hero in Phoenix for his spirited, hard-hitting style of play.

I was lucky enough to meet Tillman on a couple of occasions, including one of the more memorable moments of my life. While warming up before a handball match at a pro stop in Seattle in 2003, I was surprised beyond belief when my brother Jake showed up unannounced, coming to support me during his bye week.

He brought Tillman along to show him the game of handball. I was so supercharged with emotion and adrenaline that I was crushing the ball way too hard, ultimately playing poorly and losing to a pro.

We all went out that night, along with Pat’s brother Kevin, who briefly played baseball in the Indians organization and joined Pat in the Army, and had drinks at a pub. A handful of patrons recognized Tillman and bought him a drink, saying how much they respected his decision to quit football and join the Rangers.

Months later, we were saddened by the news of his untimely death.

Ten years later, it still stings to think about what might have been for Tillman.

I prefer to dwell on what was: A rare gem of a football player and human being who left an impression on everyone he met.