There are certain times in life when events in the sports world are really put into perspective. For many, the first such event was the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. Sporting events everywhere were cancelled because, well, they are nothing more than games. Remove all the pomp, circumstance, and 24-hour-a-day media coverage, and that is all that is left: games. They may be famous, but professional athletes are grown men in fancy uniforms getting paid millions upon millions of dollars to play a game. Seems a tad bit ridiculous, huh?

That reality might have slipped to the back of America’s mind, however as the country began to pick up the pieces and return to normal. Years passed, and the sports world began to resemble what it once was. Then came the tragic news of Pat Tillman’s death in Afghanistan. The Army Ranger and former Arizona Cardinals safety died in the line of fire after his Ranger patrol unit was ambushed. All of a sudden, the big picture became a little clearer. Wins and losses are miniscule in comparison to life and death.

In all, 110 men and women have died in Afghanistan. But, for most Americans, those casualties did not hit home. Pat Tillman gave them a face, a name, and a story. Suddenly, the grim reality of warfare struck a painful chord to those who have no personal ties to a conflict taking place halfway around the world.

His story has been told time and time again, and for good reason. It was news to many when he spurned the St. Louis Rams to stay with the lowly Arizona Cardinals for less money. Then he did the almost unthinkable: Tillman, in the prime of his career, gave up the fame and fortune of the NFL to enlist in the U.S. Army.

There are no warriors on a football field. Football is a game. Despite the best efforts of many to make it out as some sort of holy war, it is and forever will be a simple game. Nothing more and nothing less. For all the hype, glitz and glamour, it is a game — not combat.

Brett Favre is not a warrior. Ray Lewis and Brian Urlacher are not gladiators, and Kellen Winslow Jr. is certainly not a soldier.

Pat Tillman was a soldier.

Every sports fan will remember Pat Tillman the football player. A scrappy linebacker turned safety charging down the field, long hair flowing from his helmet and covering the name printed on the back of his jersey. A hard-nosed hard worker, Tillman was the sort of player every coach, fan and teammate wanted on his squad.

But, more importantly, America will never forget Pat Tillman the soldier, who willingly traded in his celebrity status for a uniform, a rifle and anonymity. For the right to be a Ranger and serve his country, Tillman gave his life. The man America had come to know through the magic of television was dead.

Every NFL player should remember Pat Tillman. Ty Law should remember Pat Tillman when he finds himself “insulted” by the Patriots’ four-year, $26-million-dollar offer to play football. Terrell Owens should remember Pat Tillman when he whines to every coach and quarterback in earshot that he is not being thrown to enough. Eli Manning should remember Pat Tillman, because while he and his family were sniveling and complaining over which team would make him an instant millionaire, Marie Tillman was learning she would never again see her husband. And, as Mike McKenzie tries to force his way out of Green Bay, he should put himself in Kevin Tillman’s shoes: bringing the body of his brother back to his parents.

Every holdout and malcontent should think long and hard about what Tillman lived and died for when they are squabbling over contracts, playing time or locale.

To an NFL player, “sacrifice” is reworking a multi-million-dollar contract. Pat Tillman’s sacrifice was his life. It was not for the sake of winning a game, but for what he believed in.

He is truly a hero. That, however, was never Tillman’s aim. He declined all interviews upon enlisting. Tillman wanted only to fall in rank like everyone else. No hype, no nonsense, just like he played football.

Twenty-seven years is not enough, but in Tillman’s short time on Earth, he personified all that is good in sports and, more importantly, in life.

Soon, April 22 may fade from memory, and Pat Tillman may not be on the forefront of America’s mind. But, hopefully, what he stood and died for will live on. Thank you, Pat Tillman, and Godspeed.