The Man
Just after a Pacific Northwest dawn on Friday, I was sifting through pages of documentation I had written for software I don't know, with Soledad O'Brien giving me the morning's news in the background. Then her sidekick, Bill Hemmer, came on with his solemn, well-we've-got-breaking-news tone.

A book was on the nightstand next to my hotel-room bed. When Hemmer finished his sentence, I threw the book across the room in genuine anger. The sentence was punctuated by 200 pages of Random House hardcover flying into a hotel-room wall.

I was really hoping for a happy end to the Pat Tillman story. You know, guy gives up promising NFL career to join the Army after Sept. 11. Guy refuses all interviews, gives up his $3 million contract, leaves his new bride behind in Arizona to join the Rangers.

It wasn't just that, though. Pat Tillman was no dumb jock with an uncontrolled aggressive streak. He graduated summa cum laude from Arizona State in 3 1/2 years, while ascending from walk-on to starter on the football team. He was picked in the seventh round by his hometown Cardinals, who were willing to risk a low pick on an undersized defensive back. He had worked his way up to a starting spot, and then to a $5 million free-agent offer from the defending champion St. Louis Rams in 2001. Out of loyalty to the Cardinals, he turned it down and took $3 million from his hapless hometown team.

After Sept. 11, a lot of us were pissed, and wanted to go kick some Taliban butt. Most of us got over it. Tillman didn't. His brother joined the Rangers. Out of loyalty to his brother, he did the same.

Some -- many -- of us might question his decision-making skill. We might question the fact that he didn't capitalize on his status as an NFL player to make a splashy entry into the service, only to take some low-risk duty so he could make a triumphant return to the field in a couple of years. The Army would have been fine with that. Would have been a great morale booster. The NFL, of course, would have been fine with that too, in the age of Terrell Owens and no-names like Joe Horn pulling out cell phones in the end zone.

I had to question myself about why the news of Pat Tillman's death threw me into a book-throwing rage, while the other 700-some deaths have simply made me sigh deeply and say a little prayer for their families. It's selfish, really. I wanted the Pat Tillman story to have a happy ending. And it just makes me angry at the monsters who created this situation in the first place.

Even without the happy ending, though, the Pat Tillman story sure as hell has a beginning and a middle that we can all respect.

Rest in peace, Man.

And that capital "M" is not a typo. It's there for a reason.