It has been about two weeks now since the news came that Ereck Plancher, a University of Central Florida football player, collapsed and died following a grueling conditioning workout leading up to spring football practice.

He was 19 years old and had been an honor student in high school. He was just starting his second year at UCF. Having graduated from high school one semester ahead of schedule, he enrolled at UCF early hoping to establish himself academically with a 4.0 GPA before starting football.

These are always shocking moments and it is difficult to find words that can encompass the grief and the tragedy, and offer explanation and comfort to the living. In this case it is no different.

Well-liked by his classmates both at UCF and at his high school in Naples, Plancher was a hero to his 10-year-old brother. His parents, his brother and his sister were devastated by the news. His teammates were stunned. George O’Leary, the UCF head football coach said calling Plancher’s parents was the most difficult thing he had ever had to do as a coach. Plancher’s high school coach talked about what a great kid he was and how much he was loved by everyone who knew him. He had great promise both academically and athletically.

When a tragedy like this occurs on the athletic field it makes headlines. The local media devoted significant airtime and ink to the story. Friends and students appeared on the local news, giving their reactions. The coach held a news conference. The university issued a statement. Saturday’s memorial service in Naples saw a reiteration of the stories, the tributes and the anguish.

Again and again came the refrains: “He was only 19.” “He was cut down in his youth.” “There was so much promise and now it is gone.”

After a few days passed and having reread A. E. Housman’s “To An Athlete Dying Young,” I started thinking more and more about this young man of 19 and how his death was such a prominent event in the community.

I then thought about other 19-year-olds in this and in other communities across the country who, over the past five years, have become one of those, among the 4,000, to die in Iraq.

It seems to me that none of these 19-year-olds killed in Iraq as part of the American invasion and occupation had ever sparked a public reaction as did the death of Ereck Plancher, at least not here in Orlando or at the University of Central Florida. This is not to question the tragic nature of Plancher’s death, only to wonder why the many deaths of 19-year-old soldiers did not draw similar attention.

Is it more tragic to die on a football field than in a war? Is it more newsworthy when a 19-year-old dies preparing for football than preparing for night patrols? How do we make these comparisons? Who makes these determinations?

Does this mean that death serving one’s country in a misguided cause is less tragic than death while serving the gods of football? Do we make less of the death in the current war because we don’t want to contemplate the tragic consequences of political hubris? Or do we make more of death on the athletic field because somehow we value sport more than most any other action a 19-year-old might do?

I don’t pretend to know the answers to these questions. I do know that sport is highly valued in our society and that pursuing football has long been a measure of manhood for the young men of America. I also know that serving one’s country and being willing to face death in combat have also been important markers of manhood.

As I watch these scenarios surrounding death, I am struck by how differently each has been treated. I also find it troubling that I see little in the media about the tragic deaths of young men and women serving in this war, the promise that has been cut short in their lives, the grief of the living who will never seen these young people again. Where are the sound bites from their friends, their classmates, their coaches and their parents? Where is the sense of tragedy and loss? And I wonder which of these deaths is more senseless and which is more tragic.