The summer of 1989 was a pivotal summer in my life. My parents and I uprooted ourselves from Orange County and moved to San Diego (Fallbrook specifically). I think a lot of times kids freak out when their family moves to another city, but I wasn’t really worried. Orange County was fine, but San Diego seemed better (and it was). It had a cool vibe as well as a personality. It didn’t hurt that the area we were moving to was much more interesting than where we were coming from.
I was entering my teens and as so many boys at that age, I was developing an affinity for sports. Living in Orange County, I didn’t really identify with a particular team (with the exception of my beloved Lakers… Showtime baby!). We landed in San Diego and I quickly got acclimated with the hometown teams (Padres and Chargers). The Padres were not very good at the time (nothing new there), but they did have identity because they had Tony Gwynn. The Chargers? Well, they flat out stunk AND had no identity…. That’s not true. They had Jim McMahon! Who was not only terrible and at the end of his career, but he was also hated by pretty much everybody on the team. He lasted all of one year with the Chargers. I really wanted to like the Chargers. I had never identified with a football team and now felt like the right time. Regardless of how bad they were, I was all in… My faith was about to be rewarded.
1990 was a big year for the Chargers. Bobby Beathard took over as GM after a very successful stint with the Washington Redskins where he won two Super Bowl championships. Beathard’s résumé alone, gave Charger fans hope. During his first draft as the Chargers GM, Beathard changed the course of the city of San Diego by selecting Tiaina Baul “Junior” Seau, Jr. from the University of Southern California as the fifth pick in the first round.
Junior Seau was born and raised in San Diego. It was one thing to draft an inside linebacker that was an absolute BEAST on the college level. It was something else do draft a hometown stud. Myself and the city of San Diego were pretty pumped up. Not only did we have a legitimate GM, but now we had a legitimate star that oh by the way, happen to be from San Diego… Things were looking up for the Chargers.
Watching Junior Seau play linebacker was like watching controlled/violent chaos. As a fan, I instantly fell in love with him. Junior was easily the craziest man on the field each and every Sunday (and that is saying a lot). His outstanding play was enough to pump you up, but it was his enthusiasm that made you an instant fan. The best possible compliment I can give Junior is that he played the way the fans felt. By that I mean, fans are MUCH more passionate about the game then the players. Lest we forget, “fan” is short for “fanatic”. We obsess about ridiculous details and flip out (both good and bad) about the fortunes (good and bad) of our respective teams. Junior played each down as if it were his last. He celebrated every hit/tackle/sack as if his life depended on it. My thoughts after seeing Junior play for the first time as a Charger were this: “Yes! Exactly! Finally a player that gets it!”. Every big play was followed by an over exaggerated pump of the fist (“The Bolt”) that would send Charger fans into a tizzy. I didn’t think it was possible for a player to be even MORE pumped up than the fans themselves, but there he was… Junior Seau.
It’s funny, my favorite memory of Junior Seau isn’t some big hit or sack… It was the 1994 AFC Championship game. Chargers vs. Steelers. There is a minute to go in the game and the Chargers hold a 17-13 lead. It is fourth down and the Steelers are on the Chargers 3 yard line. This play would decide who would be moving on to the Super Bowl. Neil O’Donnell drops back and throws a dump off pass that is broken up than none other than… Dennis Gibson? He was a role player on a pretty good defense that year, but it was the playmaker Seau and his child-like celebrating that sticks out in my mind. Nobody and I mean NOBODY was happier then Seau following that play. He was taking his hometown Chargers to the Super Bowl. A dream come true to be sure. Once again, Seau was the embodiment of how the fans felt. Unbridled/unabashed joy…
… We’re not going to talk about the 1994 Super Bowl.
When Junior Seau left town to play with the Dolphins and subsequently the much hated Pats, it was… Weird. Side note: Junior left the Chargers the same year I left for Los Angeles. On one hand he was still the embodiment of San Diego (he was cool, laid back, wore shorts and sandals no matter what the weather was, he surfed and lived life with plenty of passion and a lot of “OOMPH”), but now he was kind of the enemy. Full disclosure: As a fan, I now feel bad about my feelings towards Junior when he was with the Pats when they were on the verge of having the perfect season. I couldn’t bear to see the Pats pull of the accomplishment no matter WHO was on their team. I was openly rooting against Junior and the Pats. I felt like he had sold his soul for a ring and I was not OK with that. Hindsight being 20/20, I should have embraced what he was trying to accomplish. After everything he had given the league, the man definitely deserved a ring… No matter who he was playing for (it still kind of hurts to write that).
May 2nd, 2012. My truck had died on the way to work. I had the tow truck guy take my truck back home as I was convinced I knew what the problem was and would fix it myself. After having my truck dropped off at my house, I hoofed it over to the nearest Pep Boys (2.5 miles away, but who’s counting) to pick up the necessary part to fix my truck. With purchase in hand, I started the trek back to The Hacienda… Then my phone started blowing up. Friends started flooding me with text messages that all said the same thing: “Junior Seau is dead.”
“… No fucking way.” Those were the first words to leave my mouth. My inner monologue become flooded with the following: “How? Why? WHAT?!” Nobody had any details at that point. I fumbled with my phone as I tried to find any kind of info. Then, a terrible thought crept into my mind “Please don’t let it be suicide… I’d rather somebody killed him than it be suicide. Please don’t let it be suicide.” A terrible thought to be sure. To hope that he was somehow killed by somebody as opposed to taking his own life.
It wasn’t long before it was confirmed as a suicide. The tears started streaming down my face as I walked… I just couldn’t believe it… I couldn’t wrap my mind around it… Why? Of ALL people, why would JUNIOR SEAU commit SUICIDE?! I mean, he never QUIT at ANYTHING! He he never quit in any of his endeavours off the field and sure as hell never quit on the field. A crushing blow… To lose somebody you thought was invincible is one thing. To find out that it went down the way it did… No.
It didn’t take long for rumors and speculation to start flying. Was it due to concussions? Was it a cry for help when he drove his car off a cliff a couple of years ago? Who knows… I just didn’t care at that point. It was all bullshit at the specific moment in time. Junior Seau was gone and I was angry and I knew sadness was right around the corner.
The week since his death has put forth the gamut of emotions. I’ve been angry, sad, remorseful, reflective and thankful. Who knows why he did it? When it’s all said and done, we don’t really know anything about any professional athlete or celebrity. We just know what they put forth for public consumption. That’s not to say Junior wasn’t whom he appeared to be, it just means we don’t know his whole story… We may never know.
I’m not here to speculate. I’ll leave that up to the mainstream talking heads. I’m here to give insight into a personal experience. I never met Junior, but I felt like I knew him. I felt like we took a journey together. Junior not only embodied San Diego, he embodied some of the most formative years of my life and for that, I am eternally grateful.
Fa’afetai Junior.


















