Graduating to a different team

As Matt Blankenship sprinted through an Atlanta airport, one thought remained branded in his mind.

Home.

Wearing Army fatigues that hadn't been washed in who knows when, 48 straight hours of travel all came down to a race to make a connecting flight to Chicago.

"I barely made the flight," said Blankenship, a 2001 graduate of Wheaton North. "Once I sat down I just put my head in my hands. I was out of breath and sweating, and the guy next to me put his hand on my back and said, 'It's OK now, son. You're home.' Then he went back to reading his magazine.

"I looked around and remember a real surreal feeling wash over me because I didn't see any military guys for the first time in eight months. I came from somewhere that felt like a different world (or) dimension. And now I was back remembering what familiarity felt like."

Home.

The pitcher's mound at Wheaton North, where years before Blankenship proved his mettle, lingered as a memory equally surreal. Was he even the same person who closed out so many games as a reliever for the Falcons?

An Army engineer and convoy commander in Iraq, roadside bombs and rocket propelled grenades peppered nearly all of his 200 missions. He saw friends killed, he saw them wounded.

But in the midst of a whirlwind, Blankenship did indeed make it home safely. Appreciation engulfed him.

"The support I've seem from people just for doing my job is humbling," he said, "and it motivates me to keep doing what I'm doing."

The longing for familiarity by no means guarantees it. Still, it's the goal shared by all soldiers serving overseas.

In the case of Blankenship - and so many thousands of his generation - service included a 15-month tour in Iraq. For every one of them, the gift of coming home is a definite blessing.

It's especially true given the ultimate sacrifice made by others - soldiers like Naperville North graduate Tony Mihalo, Wheaton Warrenville South graduate Jeff Williams and Naperville Central attendee James Hale - who died serving their country.

All three fallen soldiers were former area high school athletes like Blankenship. Like Glenbard North graduate Tom Gudella and WW South graduate Ian Geppinger, who served a combined five military tours in war zones. Like Addison Trail graduate Mike Nickeas and Naperville North graduate Bryan Vavruska, who are both in the midst of tours in Iraq.

It's a journey that took them from the fields and gymnasiums of DuPage County to the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan. Countless area athletes joined the military in recent years for varying reasons and with varying results.

"It was a lot of things, mostly the challenge of wanting to go above and beyond," Gudella, a 2002 graduate of Glenbard North, said of his reason for joining. "I was nervous, obviously. Not scared, but nervous and excited. It felt like Friday night before a football game."

'I wanted to be the best'

As a linebacker on Glenbard North's state finalist football team in 2000, and as a relief pitcher for the Panthers' sectional finalist baseball team in 2002, Gudella knew pressure.

Nothing, however, could prepare him for life after graduation.

The terrorist attacks on the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, changed every American's life, high school athletes included. Schools debated whether to play football that weekend and when the decision to play was made, Friday night football turned into a patriotic symbol of solidarity.

Blankenship, a freshman baseball player at Augustana at the time, wanted to join the military immediately. He chose, however, to wait until after he graduated.

On the heels of the tragedy Gudella was inspired by the story of Pat Tillman, an Arizona Cardinals football player who gave up a multimillion-dollar contract to become an Army Airborne Ranger. He was killed in Afghanistan in 2004.

In March 2003 Gudella was among 90 men at an Army boot camp in Missouri, a group narrowed to four who were chosen to go to Airborne school. Gudella eventually survived round after round of intensifying training, eventually making it through "64 days of pure hell" at Ranger school.

All the while he knew exactly what his future entailed.

"That's what we signed up for - to go to war," he said.

He went three times, twice to Iraq and once to Afghanistan.

Among the elite U.S. forces in the Middle East, Gudella was part of a group that traversed the entire Iraqi terrain. Zipping through the country on helicopters, he and the other Rangers were handed the toughest assignments.

"I wanted to be the best," said Gudella, a Sergeant. "We went everywhere. I probably know that country more than I know downtown Chicago."

His third tour took him to Afghanistan, where he lived in caves along the Pakistan border hunting terrorists and remnants of the Taliban.

The ambushes from the hills and mountains became normal. So did the mortar attacks and the firefights.

So did the camaraderie he felt with his fellow Rangers. It reminded him of his days at Glenbard North, back when winning and losing a game meant everything.

In the Army winning and losing meant living and dying.

"I miss it all the time," Gudella, now an iron worker in Chicago, said of his high school playing days. "I'd say about all of my biggest influences were at Glenbard North. I think it definitely helped me in the Army. Being a part of a team. Knowing that the guys to the right and left of you have got your back, and you've got their backs. I think it's a lot like high school sports."

During a mid-tour leave home to Carol Stream, Gudella was given the opportunity to throw out the first pitch at a Chicago Cubs baseball game. After tipping his hat to the crowd he threw the ball home in a moment that made him feel like a Glenbard North pitcher again.

Eight days later, he headed back to Iraq.

'I know nothing about being tough'

Sean Drendel, the defensive coordinator of Naperville North's football team, has a computer file filled with names and e-mail addresses of his many former players who have gone on to serve in the military.

One of them, Tony Mihalo, was killed in Iraq in August.

"I was obviously extremely broken up when I found out about Tony," Drendel said. "Here we're playing a silly game, and there are kids like him paying the ultimate sacrifice over there."

Football's often referred to in military terms - the Friday night battle, the war in the trenches. But words that used to be second nature to Drendel now come with much more thought attached. Or not at all.

"I used to think I was tough as a football player... . I know nothing about being tough," he said. "Now that one of my former players has passed away, I struggle with it. I'm proud of each and every one of them, but I struggle with it."

Another of his former players, Bryan Vavruska, began an Army tour in Iraq three months ago. Not a day goes by that Drendel doesn't think of him.

"What they're all doing for us is invaluable," Drendel said.

Vavruska, a 2003 Huskies grad, had a sense of what he was getting into when he decided to attend West Point in a post-Sept. 11 world. But the standout defensive back who snared 16 interceptions at Naperville North wanted to play Division I college football.

"I am not sure that I understood the full gravity of what happened on September 11 and what it would mean to be in the military for the next several years," he said. "Even after I got a grasp on it, I still had chances to leave and chose not to. It is not a decision that I regret."

Vavruska is a 2nd Lieutenant and a Platoon Leader with the Army's 1st Cavalry Division in southern Iraq. Stress is a daily diet as his chief responsibility is to make sure the platoon comes home safe.

He believes the leadership skills he displays today reflect on his days in Naperville North's secondary.

"I would say a football team is about as close to a military organization as you can get," he said. "Never quitting and always working to make yourself better than the opponent seem to be central to a person's success in both.

"High school football is one of the fondest memories I have in my life," he said. "I wish I understood at the time what it would mean to me just five or six years later."

'It wasn't an if, it was a when'

Ian Geppinger, a former wrestler at WW South, was in St. Louis visiting family that unforgettable Tuesday morning in September 2001.

Later that week he was bound for boot camp to fulfill the lifelong dream of becoming a Marine. Eerie timing, to say the least.

"I knew what was coming," the 2001 WW South graduate said. "It wasn't an if, it was a when. I certainly didn't expect to be in a war. I don't think anyone did. But that's what Marines do. They go to war."

In the summer of 2003, Geppinger headed to Kuwait in support of the invasion of Iraq. Between the missiles raining down and the fear of chemical weapons, uncertainty dominated the landscape.

A logistics coordinator and Sergeant, Geppinger had the responsibility of making sure the streams of convoys reached their destinations as intact as possible.

"It was a 24-hour gig," said Geppinger, now a maintenance coordinator for a shipping company in San Diego. "There was gunfire all around us, but you never stop the convoy. You're always moving."

Geppinger's second tour took him to one of the main flash points of the Iraqi conflict - Fallujah. He called his parents and said that while he couldn't tell them where he was headed, they could figure it out by watching the news.

That's the last thing parents want to hear.

Pete Nickeas' son, Mike, was a standout football player for Addison Trail's 2006 West Suburban Gold title team who graduated in 2007. From the time Mike was a little kid, Pete videotaped every single game he played.

But while Mike's big games used to make Pete's stomach churn with nerves, it's far worse now. A Marine Lance Corporal serving near Habbaniyah, Iraq, Mike's daily life exists in harm's way.

"Well, you can't really compare the two because football back then was my job," Mike said. "This here is my life. Everything I do affects my life, or the (life of the) person next to me."

Pete thinks twice when answering the doorbell, for fear of dreadful news about Mike. As much as he loved to pick up the newspaper and clip the football articles about Mike, it's tough to even glance at a front page or watch the news on television, for fear of hearing about American war deaths.

Pete's daily life exists in a ball of nerves, especially now that his youngest son, Jack, is also enlisting in the Marines.

"Going to bed at night isn't easy," Pete said. "It's an admirable thing he's doing, but I'm afraid for him. I feel so bad for the parents who have lost their kids over there. I can't imagine it. I don't want to.

"I was looking forward to Mike going to college, but he made his choice and I stand by him," Pete said. "Mike has always done good with structure. I think that's why he was good in football and why he's doing good in the Marines. And he gives everything 100 percent."

Mike recently had the chance to call home, and it was a call of mixed emotions. He was safe, Pete knew, but not too long before he had stared down a life-threatening situation. It's one thing to worry about your son being gang-tackled by a pack of angry linebackers, it's quite another to imagine him faced with another human being trying to kill him.

"I hung up the phone and just felt sick," Pete said. "But I have to trust that he'll be OK."

'It'll always be with me'

They all have their war stories, their tales of danger. They just don't enjoy telling them.

Geppinger's moments came when mortar shrapnel tore through his tent minutes after he left it. Another time a mortar landed within a few feet of him. It was a dud.

Roadside bombs, RPG attacks, small-arms fire ... it all greeted him on his trips into Fallujah.

"It got a little hairy at times, but I'm here," he said. "I didn't get hurt at all."

The memories remain with him, and he expects they always will. And just as he'll never forget that loss in the third-place regional wrestling match with WW South that cost him a spot in the sectional, elements of his military service endure as a part of who he is.

"It'll always be with me," he said. "Certain noises, sounds, smells ... they always bring me back."

With their military service behind them, Geppinger and Gudella think about the friends they lost, the friends who came home, the friends still over there.

Gudella enjoys attending Glenbard North football games, but as he stands on the sideline he's reluctant to talk about his experiences with the people who ask. As much as those experiences dominate his thoughts at times, he'd much rather talk about Panthers football.

Gudella also hears his share of thanks for his years of service. But he doesn't want that, either.

He simply wants to be.

"I don't know that I'll ever totally get used to being back home again," he said. "It's not easy to become the person you were before."

Vavruska's tour is slated to end in June, while Nickeas' tour ends in March - just in time for his brother Jack's graduation from boot camp.

Blankenship, now stationed in Kentucky as an Army 1st Lieutenant, awaits word on his next tour. He may be headed back to the Middle East as soon as November.

As much as he and all the other soldiers long to be at home, he's prepared to serve. Again.

"I loved baseball, but I realized there's more to life than that," Blankenship said. "If I were to talk to high school athletes today, I'd tell them to enjoy the innocence of youth but be thankful for it and remember there's so much else to life.

"There's a whole other world out there."