Pat Tillman: The Heart of a Lion, the Heart of a Champion

The lasting image of a young and enthusiastic Cardinal safety running onto the field with his long brunette locks flowing in the wind and a face of ultimate determination and sacrifice will live on in the hearts and minds of Arizona Cardinal fans everywhere.

That was the image of a true hero, and a true champion: Pat Tillman.

Pat Tillman was always a soldier, he just didn't know it yet. He sacrificed his body on every hit and treated every game as if it were a covert mission in the desert of Afghanistan.

Pat Tillman was the NFL's ranger, the silent guardian you might say. Not knowing where his decision to leave the NFL and millions of dollars behind would lead him, Tillman never once second guessed his choice.

It has been five years since his death. Five short years, and the lasting image of No. 40 running onto the field has been captured by the statue that now stands tall outside of the University of Phoenix Stadium.

Tillman was the poster child of loyalty, having turned down a five-year, $9 million contract offer from the St. Louis Rams, just so he could stay with the team that drafted him.

When it came to his country, he was still loyal, having given up a three-year, $3.6 million contract extension with the Cardinals and enlisting in the Army to serve his country.

So why bring all of this up now, you may be asking? It's simple.

The players of today should be ashamed of themselves. I'm of course referring to Anquan Boldin and Darnell Dockett.

These players make millions of dollars to play a game—a game! They don't go out and work 9:00-5:00 jobs just so they can put food on the table.

They don't have to wake up at grueling hours in the morning just so their kids might have an enjoyable life, so they can have clothes on their backs and a roof over their heads.

No, these players have literally slapped the legacy of Pat Tillman in the face. Call me pessimistic or even unruly, but how do these guys get away with this? It's a business yes, but at the heart and soul of it, it's still a game.

A game we grew up playing in parks and backyards. A game where we first got cut on the arm and were proud of the scar it left.

Or that same game where we lost our first tooth from being hit so hard. Our first broken finger.

The first time we ever experienced joy from a victory. It was a great game. The game that must have been invented by God.

Now it's a so-called "business." When did we lose sight of the fun of the game, the love of the game?

It's just like in Kevin Costner's movie For the Love of the Game. He retires from the game that he loves, the game that his entire life was forged from, the game that gave him life back. He retired so he wouldn't have to put up with the new management because they wanted to make it more business-like.

In a society where money rules over everything, including our sports, wouldn't it be even more necessary to get back to the love of it? The joy?

Don't get me wrong; the atmosphere is still littered with happiness and smiles. Ask anyone that goes to a baseball game and they will tell you it was one of the best moments of their life. The lights, the crack of the bat, the whole bucket.

Ask anyone that goes to a football game and they will say the same thing. The premise is still there. The heart is still beating—it hasn't flat-lined yet.

Which brings me back to Pat Tillman—the heart that was beating ever so rapidly, and was stopped so viciously and abruptly. We can continue his legacy by playing for the right reasons.

No more of these contract disputes. No more seeking what is rightfully deserved.

That was what made Tillman a champion. Although he played in the darkest of days for the Cardinals, not once did we hear this young man complain.

Not once did we hear about a trade demand. Not once did we hear a contract dispute.

Tillman rested on the idea that he was privileged enough to play in this wonderful league and privileged to fight and die for his country.

He truly had the heart of a lion that we should all strive to have. The heart of a champion that had the beating sound even in the darkest alleys.

Tillman is still an inspiration to us all. His statue looks over the Cardinal Stadium and will be a constant reminder to its fans and its players that this game is beautiful and was made beautiful by players like him.

Players that practiced selflessness on a daily basis. Players that poured their heart into every down just for the chance to say that they played on the biggest stage and performed at the highest level.

This story will never die, and Tillman's legend grows with each passing day. Although he is gone, it's the lasting memories of him that make Cardinal fans such as myself proud to support this team. To support this game.

Pat Tillman will forever be the heart that beats in the desert of Arizona.