Just posting another interesting article from October 13, 2012.
āThey started out as just friends,ā Brian Teāo said. āEvery once in a while, she would travel to Hawaii, and that happened to be the time Manti was home, so he would meet with her there. But within the last year, they became a couple.
http://www.irishsportsreport.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20121012/FOOTBALL/121019992
It never felt like a chance meeting, although it probably appeared
that way from the outside looking in.
Their stares got pleasantly tangled, then Manti Teāo extended his hand
to the stranger with a warm smile and soulful eyes.
They could have just as easily brushed past each other and into
separate sunsets. Teāo had plenty to preoccupy himself that November
weekend in Palo Alto, Calif., back in 2009.
His Notre Dame football team hadnāt won since Halloween, and a
three-game losing streak, that included seismic home setbacks to Navy
and Connecticut, was pushing Irish head coach Charlie Weis out the
door after five seasons, albeit with a seven-figure financial
settlement set to kick in.
Weis was the man who, in the recruiting process, promised Teāoās
parents that he would take care of their son 4,400 miles away, that he
would make sure he graduated and really nothing else, nothing that had
anything to do with football anyway.
And once Teāoās 11th-hour shift away from USC and to Notre Dame took
hold, Teāoās still-confusing leap of faith hinged upon every
subsequent word that came from Weis.
The part that stung the most for the Laie, Hawaii, product was that
there was nothing he could do in NDās upcoming clash with Stanford
that could reverse the process. His only anchor was about to be set
adrift.
There had been delusions by some observers, going into the ā09 season,
that the freshman linebacker would be so advanced, so
transformational, so immune to growing pains and flat spots in the
growth curve that he could help launch the Irish back into a cycle of
national prominence.
Instead, it was a school with an even smaller recruiting pool and a
less-decorated football tradition that pre-vailed, 45-38, in what
turned out to be Weisā last game. That same school, Stanford, then
proceeded to smack around the old stereotype of needing to compromise
academic standards in order to climb up on college footballās biggest
postseason stages.
Teāo would start the game on the bench and finish it with a new career
high in tackles, with 10.
This Saturday afternoon at Notre Dame Stadium, three years later and
half a continent away, Stanford and the Irish meet again, this time
with Notre Dame ascending and Teāo right in the middle of the
uprising.
The Cardinal (4-1), ranked 17th, have won three straight in the series
and have pushed around the Irish in the process. ND (5-0), which
started the season unranked, has pushed itself into the cusp of the
national title conver-sation.
For the first time this season and seventh time in Teāoās career, his
parents, Brian and Ottilia, will be in the stands for the game ā along
with the youngest of his five siblings, 6-year-old brother Manasseh.
āTheyāre watching you and they're watching someone who they've given
everything they have to live his dream,ā Teāo said earlier this week.
āMy dream is to help them in their dream, too. So, it's always
exciting. It's going to be a special occasion to see them in the
stands.ā
And Manti Teāo is convinced the beautiful stranger will be watching
too Saturday, somehow.
Lennay Kekua was a Stanford student and Cardinal football fan when the
two exchanged glances, handshakes and phone numbers that fateful
weekend three seasons ago.
She was gifted in music, multi-lingual, had dreams grounded in reality
and the talent to catch up to them.
The plan was for Kekua to spend extensive time with the whole Teāo
family when upwards of 40 of them came to South Bend in mid-November
for NDās Senior Day date with Wake Forest.
ā
They started out as just friends,ā Brian Teāo said. āEvery once in a
while, she would travel to Hawaii, and that happened to be the time
Manti was home, so he would meet with her there. But within the last
year, they became a couple.
āAnd we came to the realization that she could be our daughter-in-law.
Sadly, it wonāt happen now.ā
About the time Kekua and Manti became a couple, she was injured in an
auto accident. There were complica-tions during her recovery. And it
was also during her recovery that it was discovered Kekua had
leukemia.
āThat was just in June,ā Brian Teāo said. āI remember Manti telling me
later she was going to have a bone marrow transplant and, sure enough,
thatās exactly what happened. From all I knew, she was doing really,
really well.ā
Kekua, who eventually graduated from Stanford, was, in fact, doing so
well that she was released from the hospital on Sept. 10. And Brian
Teāo was among those congratulating her via telephone.
Less than 48 hours later, at 4 a.m. Hawaii time, Kekua sent a text to
Brian and Ottilia, expressing her condo-lences over the passing of
Ottiliaās mom, Annette Santiago, just hours before.
Brian awakened three hours later, saw the text, and sent one back.
There was no response. A couple of hours later, Manti called his
parents, his heart in pieces.
Lennay Kekua had died.
In a Newport Beach, Calif., hotel room last December, Brian Teāo
pulled out the papers with the numbers Manti had asked him to compile,
figuring it was only a formality in what seemed like an obvious
decision to go pro a year early.
Manti and his parents had all flown to California for a banquet
honoring the Lott Impact Award finalists, but at the top of the agenda
was putting the finer points on how to break the news to ND head coach
Brian Kelly and the rest of the college football world that Teāoās
junior year at the school would indeed be his last.
Instead, it was Manti who had to break the news. In the days leading
up to this moment, BrieAnne Teāo was among the voices whose words
pervaded in Mantiās thoughts.
The oldest of Mantiās four sisters asked him point blank over the
phone, āWasnāt it your dream to go to the NFL? Then go.ā
But as the words fermented and mixed with Mantiās prayers, he came to
what sounded like a chance decision, at least from the outside looking
in.
āThe NFL is my goal, not my dream,ā he told his parents. āMy dream is
to have an impact on people. I think I'm doing that, and I'm not
finished yet.ā
Brianās and Ottiliaās pride overran their tear ducts as the surprising
decision sunk in.
āI never said it to Manti, but I did wonder, āMan, what more can you
do?ā ā Brian said. āAnd then on Sept. 22, I knew. We all knew.ā
That was the night of NDās clash with Michigan, the first home game
after Santiago and Kekua had passed. In fact, Kekuaās funeral was held
in California earlier that morning.
Brian and Ottilia were back in Laie, watching the game on TV, and
overwhelmed with emotion before the opening kickoff.
āThey kind of panned out and took a wide view of the stadium,ā Brian
said, āand all you could see from cor-ner to corner on my television
were these leis. They were twirling on peopleās fingers and I turned
to my wife and I said, āThatās for your son.ā ā
Seemingly, the entire student section was adorned in them, band
members, cheerleaders ā even the people who typically implore the
ushers to ask people to sit down and shut up. The Lou Holtz statue,
just outside the stadium, was smothered with leis in support of Manti.
On the coupleās Facebook page, people took pictures of their kids in
Mantiās No. 5 jersey, wearing leis.
āFrom Texas, from California, from Utah, from London,ā Ottilia said.
āOne guy had his children making a No. 5 with their bodies, laying
down on the lawn with their leis on,ā Brian said. āI even got a
picture from a Michigan fan. He was wearing his Michigan jersey, but
he had a lei on. He said, āI love Michigan, but I support your son.ā
āAnd I go back to that night at the Lott Awards. I should have known.
It shouldnāt have been a surprise to me, that his intention was to
just unite as many people under a single idea of family. I didnāt
think it would get to this level.ā
But Brian never doubted that Manti would choose to play through the
tragedy in both the Michigan game and the road game at Michigan State
game that preceded it.
āHe said something that night in Newport Beach that kind of scared me,
actually,ā Brian said. āHe said āDad, whether Iām on crutches or in
pads, Iām going to run out of the tunnel my last game, and itās then
Iām going to be able to say to Notre Dame, I gave you everything.
Wherever we land, thatās where weāll be.ā ā
qqq
In the moments after the Michigan game, Ottilia sent Manti a text with
a familiar message, āThanks for choosing me as your mom.ā
āOur belief, as members of the church, is that before we came here to
this Earth, that we got to choose our cir-cumstance in life,ā Ottilia
said. āAnd Iām just so grateful, as a parent, that when Manti was up
there he chose Brian and I ā he chose us to be his parents. Definitely
we had a lot of work to do. He was literally with us every step of the
way.ā
Brian and Ottilia were 19 when they got married, and Manti came along
shortly thereafter.
āWe were young parents,ā Brian said, āand there was something about
that kid that brought a sense of peace and order to what ordinarily
would be a very chaotic young relationship.
āWe went from teenagers to parents almost overnight. I told my wife
that this kid is special. āThereās some-thing about him that makes the
world better.ā
āWhen he was 2 or 3 we tried to explain to him, āThereās something
special that youāre supposed to do. We donāt know what it is, but
weāre going to do everything we can do to help you find it.ā ā
Even if that sometimes meant letting him make his most profound
decisions on his own ā to attend Notre Dame, not to take a two-year
Mormon Mission weeks after Kelly succeeded Weis, to return for his
senior year and to play through the grief and the pain.
All seemed rather disconnected at the time, but almost seem steeped in
destiny now.
āWe listen to his interviews on the Internet pretty regularly, and we
kept hearing him talk recently about him making our dreams come
true,ā Ottilia said. āI think, in his mind, heās thinking huge house,
I can tell. But thatās not what our dreams look like.ā
What they do look like is when Mantiās sisters got together to raise
more than $3,000 so that their brother could go to USCās football camp
in eighth grade.
What they look like is the conversation between Kelly and Manti that
Brian Teāo overheard on Skype just af-ter the double tragedies hit
him. āI was so worried about him,ā Brian said, ābut what coach Kelly
said made me know he was with family.ā
What they look like is Manti Teāo doing what he promised in that
Newport Beach hotel room, making a dif-ference every day.
āAs my wife suggested, our dream is to watch our children live
theirs,ā Brian said. āAnd right now Iād say weāre right in the middle
of that.ā