For Latrell Sprewell, $27.5 million just wasn’t enough. “I’ve got a family to feed,” the Minnesota Timberwolves basketball star infamously responded to a proposed contract extension that would make him worth more than some small countries. When asked to elaborate on his idiotic quote, Sprewell, who is raking in $14.6 million this year, scoffed “I have a lot at risk here.”

While self-proclaimed metaphorical “soldiers” of the fields and courts are refusing to accept “risk” without the proper amount of zeros in their paychecks, real American soldiers (the military kind) are without hesitation putting their lives in jeopardy, even as they face pathetically low financial compensation. When compared to the excessive salaries and insurance options of professional athletes like Mr. Sprewell, the money soldiers receive for their service proves to be pitifully incomparable as the risks of playing professional basketball contrasted to the risks of being in the military.

For those who find the professional athlete analogy unfair and cliché, here lies another comparison: the average award to families from the government’s Sept. 11 Victims Compensation Fund was $2.1 million, and people injured in the terrorist attacks received an average of $400,000 each. Are the deaths of the 9/11 victims any more tragic than those killed attempting to avenge them? Does innocence deserve more compensation?

As the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq continue to claim the lives of U.S. soldiers, the paltry sum of money immediately dispersed to the families of war dead has fallen under increasingly intense scrutiny among citizens, veterans and U.S. leaders alike. The current death gratuity pay of $12,420 is the maximum amount fatherless and motherless families inherit to compensate for their financial and emotional losses. Though military life insurance provides opportunities for military families to collect up to an additional $250,000, congressional leaders of both parties have been quick to classify the current death gratuity pay as “un-American.”

Earlier this month, President Bush, with broad bipartisan backing from Congress, supported the implementation of a Pentagon plan that would raise the $12,000 death gratuity pay to $100,000, in addition to increasing the maximum amount families could receive in life-insurance payments.

Though the vote for such increases should be the quickest in recent congressional history, the debate surrounding death gratuity does not end there. Several lawmakers and government bureaucrats, including top officials from all four military branches, have claimed that the Pentagon’s plan is inadequate because it limits the increased benefits to servicemen killed only in areas designated “war zones” by the Secretary of Defense (and who knows what befuddling equation Rumsfeld would come up with to specify such areas). Many argue that the provisions should extend to all military personnel killed on active duty.

This writer joins many others in pondering why the amount of financial compensation received by war widows and their children would be determined solely by geography. Does dying on a mission deep within the deserts of Iraq deserve more money than dying on a routine training exercise at Fort McCoy? Increasing death gratuity pay for all military personnel supports the troops in a way that a ribbon or bumper sticker cannot. Military life is stressful enough; soldiers should not be burdened by immediate concern for the well-being of their loved ones. Death gratuity cannot serve as financial replacement for a soldier’s life, but it can serve as value of the sacrifices brave men and women make for their country; a means to honor and repay soldiers’ sacrifices by ensuring the preservation of their families’ welfare.

In a country where participants in “The Real World” make more money than participants in real wars, the focus on gratuity pay should serve as a springboard for rethinking the overall inadequate financial compensation all soldiers — not just those who die in action — receive for their services. Perhaps our willingness to grossly overpay those who entertain us and grossly underpay those who protect us is more a detriment to our society than a shameful result of poor and uncompassionate policymaking. For those who die for others and for their country, $100,000 may still not be enough.

For Latrell Sprewell, it’s not even enough to play a game of basketball.

Adam Lichtenheld ([email protected]) is a sophomore majoring in political science and international relations.