But those two roles simply made him more visible. Tillman was exemplary because of his character. Tim Layden, a senior writer at Sports Illustrated who did a profile of Tillman when he was at Arizona State, wrote after Tillman's death, "There was a rare purity about him. I've not seen it since. I don't expect to see it again soon."

You collect the anecdotes of Tillman's life, the defining moments, and you understand what made him special. Extraordinary.

Over the course of their conversation, Layden asked Tillman if he had ever been arrested. Tillman did not have to reveal that part of his past — the minor juvenile arrest had already been expunged from his record — but he told Layden the entire story (he had been charged with aggravated felony assault after defending a friend in a fight).

And after the story appeared, Layden received a hand-written thank you note from Tillman. That almost never happens.

Another story comes from Zach Walz, a linebacker the Cardinals drafted the same year they did Tillman. During a mini-camp early in that rookie season, Walz was taped to a goalpost by some veterans in a hazing prank. The temperature was near triple-digits, and after about 10 minutes, Tillman decided that the joke had run its course even if the veterans did not agree. He walked into the training room, procured a pair of scissors, marched right past the vets as they warned him not to free Walz, and cut his teammate loose.

Nobody said a word.

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I always found it bizarre that Tillman majored in marketing at Arizona State (graduating summa cum laude, by the way, with a 3.82 GPA). I could never imagine Tillman selling anything other than himself. He was almost genetically incapable of spinning something, be it the merits of a used car or his own life story. You look at a photo of his chiseled features, his stone-cold stare, and you can absolutely see it: Pat Tillman was one of the few utterly, completely straightfroward Americans you'd ever come across in modern America.

He didn't really care what you thought of him. He cared what he thought of himself. It was a lifelong examination of the self that simply ended too soon. Or did it?

His last moment was as much in character as all the others that preceded it. In an Afghani canyon at dusk, Tillman and a few others came under fire from confused, and likely panicked, American troops. Tillman, according to witnesses, sounded less frightened than he did pissed off.

"Cease fire! Friendlies!" Tillman shouted while seeking cover. "I am Pat (bleeping) Tillman! I am Pat (bleeping) Tillman!"

Moments later, he was dead. A few days after Tillman died, my brother, who also is an Arizona State alum, drove over to Sun Devil Stadium in Tempe to a makeshift shrine erected in Tillman's honor. He had never met Tillman; like most of us, he just wanted to say thank you. And goodbye.

Thank you for your service. Thank you for your example.

Pat Tillman would be 32 years old.

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