CHAMPAIGN – The tattoo stretches the length of his right arm, and at one point it reads, IGY6.

In military terms, it’s: I got your six. In a civilian conservation, it’s: I got your back.

As a left-handed reliever and a 25-year-old veteran of the U.S. Marines, Josh Harris plans to have the Illini’s back this spring. A native of Beecher just south of Chicagoland, Harris gets to go back in time to play baseball and go to school, after he enlisted in the Marines as a 17-year-old.

Dropped into action in a tight spot over the weekend during the Illini’s season-opener, Harris didn’t have the luxury of slowly working into the action. But after getting out of the inning and eventually earning the win, Harris wasn’t overwhelmed by the tough spot.

Obviously, he’s seen worse during two tours of duty overseas in his four-year hitch.

“Even if it was a bad outing, it wasn’t going to affect me,’’ Harris said. “I don’t make the comment that it’s just a game, but there are more important things to worry about.’’

When it comes to the details during his service in the Marines, Harris won’t go there with his Illini teammates.

“I don’t tell them much,’’ Harris said. “I don’t go into stuff like that. I always joke with them that I just had a computer job. They still question it.’’

But Harris has obviously been in pressure situations tougher than trying to get out of a fourth-inning jam against Georgetown

“He’s been in situations where it’s live or be killed,’’ said Illini pitching coach Drew Dickinson. “It’s the real thing. I don’t like putting first timers in (tough situations). That was called for. He took it in stride.’’

Harris has three years of eligibility, but with a 95 mile-per-hour fastball and some mental toughness, he might not stick around long even though he has three years of eligibility. His goal is pro ball, and Harris’ shot might come early since he’s already older than most of the other prospects in college. But at this point, he’s just loves the opportunity to go back to school and play some ball.

“He wanted to be a kid again,’’ Dickinson said. “He went straight out of high school into a regimen of being a Marine. Now he’s able to let his hair down a little bit. It’s a nice thing for him.’’

Dickinson likes to rib Harris a bit, calling him “Sarge’’ sometimes, but Harris has easily transitioned from an old guy in junior-college baseball to just another player on a Division I roster that also has a few 22- and 23-year olds.

It took a few steps to get here. Following his stint in the Marines, Harris returned home and enrolled in Prairie State College in Chicago Heights, but the coaches didn’t offer him a chance to try out. After one year there, he transferred to Kankakee Community College. During a game last season at Parkland College in Champaign, Dickson saw him pitch.

“The stuff was real,’’ Dickson said.

The biggest struggle for Harris was recovery. In high school, Harris had a rubber arm, he said, and he could pitch about any day. But his recovery time was longer at Kankakee, and it took a while to get his arm in shape in Illini camp.

“I never had arm soreness,’’ he said. “I felt great all the time, then I took four or five years off. Once I started throwing again, I would pitch, and I thought broke my arm. It was that sore. The arm was better (with more pop), but it was recovering a lot slower. I thought I’d have to hang up the cleats. The dream is over.’’

Heading into the spring, Harris was concerned when he lost some velocity.

“My velocity was down in the fall,’’ Harris said. “I wasn’t the guy Drew recruited. He probably wasn’t thinking this, but I felt it off him. (Dickinson) didn’t know if this guy could produce what we thought he could produce.’’

The stressful situations and problem-solving tactics learned with the Marines help him on the mound. The work ethic absorbed in the military help him everywhere.

“The discipline in the Marines set me up for success,’’ he said.

At this point, there’s no concern about his arm strength or recovery. While training with the Illini, the arm is rebounding back into shape. His body matured from those days at Beecher High School, and Harris worked hard on the weights in the Marines when he learned there wouldn’t be any baseball – something the recruiter didn’t exactly make clear.

“Looking back now, it’s funny,’’ Harris said. “There’s no chance to play in the Marine Corps. As a 17-year-old kid when I enlisted, I thought it was possible. It worked out for the best. I matured more. I hit the gym more. In terms of performance, I’m better now than I would have been at 18 or 19. Who knows what would have happened. I couldn’t be happier with the route I took.’’

With that mid-90s fastball and a slider in the mid-80s, Harris’ path could take him to pro ball.

“The stuff is there, and the story is intriguing,’’ Dickinson said. “With his age, he probably won’t be a high draft pick. I’m hoping somebody takes a chance on him. The story has yet to be written. That’s on him to go out and prove it.’’

So that tattoo sleeve also has an inscription on the inside of his right arm that reads, For those I love, I will sacrifice. He didn’t have to pay the ultimate sacrifice, although his mother, Karyn, was nervous after signing his enlistment papers.

“The Marines put the fear of God in you, and they said he wasn’t a baby any more,’’ she told the Kankakee Daily Journal. “He was going to come back a man.’’

The man’s fastball reaches 95, so Harris would like to see where it takes him.