When the news came Sunday night, I thought about Pat Tillman.
Of the many tragic roads that led from 9/11, his was the one that so conspicuously started from the sports page. The NFL player who was moved to lay down his football helmet and join the Army Rangers, and later died as a victim of friendly fire — in a way, a controversial casualty of Osama bin Laden.
By Kirby Lee, US Presswire
A statue of former Arizona Cardinals and Arizona State Sun Devils linebacker Pat Tillman stands at the University of Phoenix Stadiium. Tillman gave up his football career to join the military after the Sept. 11 attacks. He died in Afghanistan.
By Kirby Lee, US Presswire
A statue of former Arizona Cardinals and Arizona State Sun Devils linebacker Pat Tillman stands at the University of Phoenix Stadiium. Tillman gave up his football career to join the military after the Sept. 11 attacks. He died in Afghanistan.
I thought about the 2001 World Series.
It included three remarkable nights in Yankee Stadium, as a shattered city turned to baseball for its recovery, even with a burning smell still in the air from Ground Zero. "I think we understand," Yankees manager Joe Torre said at the time, "life is a little bit different now and may never be the same again."
I thought of the Navy-Boston College game in Annapolis.
Played 11 days after the towers fell, it was the only time I ever had to walk past a machine gun nest to get into a college football game. Afterward, players from both sides stood together on the field and sang "God Bless America." Not long after, many of the Midshipmen in the stands headed off to war.
Bin Laden was in the middle of all those, in absentia. He gave us an autumn with armed troops at airports and a World Series delayed into November, the season halted as we tried to find the dead.
He brought us metal detectors at the arena gates, concrete barriers on the streets outside, fighter jets on alert to provide air cover for the Super Bowl, and billion-dollar security budgets for the Olympics. In a way, he even brought "God Bless America" to seventh-inning stretches.
He wanted to kill us, the more the better. It didn't take long after 9/11 to understand that a stadium packed with Americans made a fine target. Games have always been an escape, but there were days after 2001 when we wondered if any place was.
A happy ballpark will be part of Sunday's memories. Citizens Bank Park grew thunderous with chants as the news reports rolled through the Philadelphia stands like the wave. The Phillies' opponent was perfect for the occasion. They were playing the Mets, whose Shea Stadium parking lot was used as a staging area for emergency supplies after 9/11. No group of New Yorkers could possibly miss the significance of this moment.
When the television showed pictures of citizens waving flags in spontaneous celebration Sunday night, I thought about 1980.
A small group of young Americans sent people shouting and singing into the streets then, too. A nation weary of gas woes and conflict and depressing headlines, worried about the future. Just like now.
This is very different, of course. The U.S. Olympic hockey team faced no danger like the special operations forces did in Pakistan. And while beating the Soviets in the middle of a cold war was famous and satisfying, the issue was only a gold medal, not justice for thousands of dead.
Once, the young heroes who made us feel better carried hockey sticks. This time, in a far more life-and-death drama, automatic weapons.
The ripple of their efforts will be framed in many ways. Over in the sports section, where we talk of "battle," we have been reminded again of what warriors really do. And how the truly important work of our nation's youth is not done by athletes who become wealthy in bright lights, but those who step off helicopters in the darkness, and are paid little for their courage.
The first Sunday of the NFL season — assuming there is an NFL season — is Sept. 11. Come that weekend, if the two sides are still bickering over billions, and the stadia are empty while the 10th anniversary bells ring at Ground Zero, it will be a contrast impossible to miss.
They can play football all they want and make a fortune, but in these times and in this world, someone still has to protect them. Someone just did.
Torre was right. Our lives have never been the same — where we work or where we play. Sport carries bin Laden scars, just like everyone else. Only a little less now.
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