Spring Break
Sorry, Pat Tillman, brace yourself for manipulation
IS IT FRIDAY YET?
Tony Burchyns
Spartan Daily Managing Editor
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Sorry to hear you got killed in southeastern Afghanistan last week.
The story's everywhere.
Don't get mad.
Now it's personal.
First, they picked on pretty little Jessica Lynch.
Now, they've messed with the National Football League.
Oh boy, does it matter now.
You asked us not to do this, Pat, but we need your story, to keep us moving forward. We need it, and we'll take it. See, we are trying to make sense of this thing, this shapeless battle against evil, against terror.
Look, it came down from the White House, and we're just trying to run with it.
You can help. You can be a hero in our mythmaking, our yarn spinning.
You gave up millions of dollars to serve your country.
And then you challenged us not to write about you, but of course we will. Why wouldn't we? You're like the Kurt Cobain of commandos, provocatively self-destructive and terse, fascinatingly magnetic in your disdain of media attention.
Like it or not, Pat Tillman, you are a war hero, a glorifiable G.I. Joe man, an all-American prince, a dashing patriot with a streak of danger in him, a role model for boys from one coast to the other.
You didn't want to be a giant, a myth or a celebrity.
You thought by leaving the NFL to be an Army Ranger, you could escape the spotlight and just be an anonymous soldier in the eyes of the frenzied media.
Wrong.
When you passed up those millions, declined interviews and asked your family to avoid the media, perhaps you thought your story would not be exploited.
Wrong.
Sorry, Pat, but when you're that juicy of a headline, you're like a wounded calf surrounded by lions.
We don't care about your personal hang-ups about being transformed into a war hero. Are you daft?
Look, you're good-looking, white, a scrappy over-achiever, eccentric but delightfully so, the fans love you, you married your high school sweetheart, you appeal to mainstream Democrats and Republicans ... just think of how much dough your story is going to rake in.
So what if you beat up that kid in high school? So what if you spent 30 days in juvenile hall? That, err, "wimp" was probably asking for it, and America knows it.
You're a star. You're a poster boy.
Come on. Don't make that face.
Commercialization is the only true sign of respect left in our culture. And you, Pat Tillman, are going to be commercialized. No doubt about it.
It won't make a difference that you shunned media attention while you were with us. See, that only makes your story stronger, adds heart to it.
You said you're not more important than any other soldier. Well, you are sort of right. When it comes to grieving relatives, death is death. We know your relatives don't deserve more sympathy than anyone else's.
And when it comes to firing bullets at bad guys in southeastern Afghanistan or Iraq, we know your index finger wasn't more vital than the next trooper's. You did a job many have done.
But that's not the point. We can use you to feel better about ourselves.
So, sorry, we can't respect your wishes. You will be a media tool. You will be used to sell the war for months to come. You will help wavering patriots feel good about themselves.
Your father and his father fought in wars. You wanted to do your duty. That feels good.
You were not supposed to make it in the NFL. Too small, too slow, they said. You were drafted in the seventh round in 2000. That year you set an Arizona Cardinals record with 224 tackles in a season. That feels good.
Your brother played minor league baseball. The two of you enlisted in the Army together. That feels good.
So now you're a celebrity. You didn't want this hoopla, but it was unavoidable. Remember, you're the one with principles, not us.
Sincerely,
The Media
Tony Burchyns is the Spartan Daily managing editor.
"Is It Friday Yet?" appears every Monday.
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