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Manti Te’o’s parents were sitting across the table from their son earlier this month in a Charlotte, N.C., restaurant when they noticed something disconcerting, something they have not seen in his four years at Notre Dame.
He appeared tired, drained, as if the 427 career tackles, the deaths of six loved ones and the asthma he has dealt with his entire life have finally weighed him down like leaden shoulder pads.
“He has been through so much in his life,’’ says his mother, Ottilia. “I’ve wondered, ‘Why has he been tested so much?’ I don’t know. But I know he is stronger because of what he has been through. He is stronger and, I believe, a better person.’’
If strength is built on the capacity to endure loss, then Te’o will be the strongest player on the Sun Trust Stadium field on the night of Jan. 7 when the Irish meet Alabama in the BCS National Championship Game.
If it is built on overcoming physical adversity, then Te’o will play the game of his life on college football’s biggest stage.
If it is built on selflessness, which Te’o exhibited under the most trying circumstance, then Notre Dame’s star linebacker will find a way to lead the Irish (12-0) to what would be an upset of the Crimson Tide (12-1).
“I don’t think I’m different or better than anyone else,’’ Te’o says. “But I feel as if I have great faith. That faith has been tested. And it has pulled me through.
“It is not just my religious faith. It’s my family, both at home and at Notre Dame — my second family — and my loved ones. When I’ve been tired, I’ve found the strength inside to fight through. When I’ve been hurting, I’ve found that sharing that hurt with others has made me stronger.
“That’s why I want to win this game so badly, not for me but for my family, my teammates, for Notre Dame, for everyone that has come before me and will come after me. It hasn’t always been easy, but it has been the most incredible experience of my life.
“If I leave a legacy, I hope that’s what it will be. That if you believe in yourself, your faith, your family, your team, you can reach for the stars and land on a cloud.’’
Somewhere above those clouds reside the souls of his grandmother, Annette Santiago, and his girlfriend, Lennay Kekua, who died three days apart in mid-September. Sadly, it is a crowded cloud in Te’o’s heaven.
In his four years at Notre Dame, Te’o also lost two friends — one to suicide, the other to a skateboarding accident. Team manager Declan Sullivan died when the tower from which was shooting video of practice collapsed in high winds.
The death of his maternal grandfather, Louis Santiago, the day after Te’o celebrated his 21st birthday, is the loss that nearly broke the 6-foot-2, 255-pound linebacker. Louis, for whom Manti Malietau Louis Te’o is named, lost his fight with cancer on Jan. 27.
“That’s when he seemed lost,’’ says Brian Te’o, Manti’s father.
“We look at his life,’’ Ottilia says. “He’s seen an amazing amount of mourning.’’
He also has seen an amazing amount of success.
Te’o played his high school ball at Honolulu Punahou Prep, which had never won a state football title in 118 years — until 2008. That’s when he led the Buff ’n Blue to glory with a season for the ages: 129 tackles, 11 sacks, three forced fumbles and three interceptions.
It was all but a done deal that Te’o was headed to USC. His visit to Notre Dame had been a disaster: The Irish lost to Syracuse and fans pelted the team with snowballs.
But in a 12-hour period before making his announcement, Te’o said he received three spiritual signs USC was not the place for him.
In an English class, he related to a character in the film “Dead Poets Society” who was having difficulty making a life decision.
A Punahou assistant athletic director, Kale Ane, a USC alum, suggested Te’o consider creating his own legacy at Notre Dame rather than being “the next Troy Polamalu” at USC.
And a soft-sell recruiting letter from Notre Dame advising Te’o to make the best decision, and be at peace with it, resonated.
Those occurrences turned out to be a holy trilogy of recruiting for Notre Dame. Te’o, a devout Mormon, prayed on his decision and told his friend and current Irish teammate, wide receiver Robby Toma, that it was Notre Dame.
Toma’s father called Te’o’s father, who was driving the 45 minutes from Punahou back to the family’s home in Laie. The truck skidded to the side of the road as Brian brought the vehicle to a screeching halt. Notre Dame?
It seemed a disastrous decision. The Irish went 6-6 in Te’o’s freshman season. Coach Charlie Weis was fired. Two subsequent 8-5 seasons resulted in appearances in minor bowl games. Te’o’s vision of taking Notre Dame to a title, as he had done at Punahou, seemed absurd.
“Manti, every year that he has played football, his goal has always been to play for a championship,’’ his father says. “Not just a bowl championship. But to play for all the marbles.
“He did it in high school, and he set the same goal at Notre Dame. And I was thinking, I said, ‘You do realize they’ve been a little under the weather?’ He said, ‘Dad, one day we’re going to play for a championship.’ ’’
That day has come — amazingly.
Notre Dame kept finding ways to win — a late drive against Purdue, a goal-line stand against Stanford, a triple-overtime win over Pittsburgh, another goal-line stand at USC.
Te’o was always in the middle of things with 103 tackles and seven interceptions, even as he ached from the losses of his loved ones.
The nation learned of the deaths of Annette and Lennay because they came in the midst of the football season. And Te’o did not shy away from speaking of his loss or showing his emotion.
But it was Louis Santiago’s death, the one from early in the year he did not share publicly, that proved to be the trial that would get Te’o through this season.
“It was a roller coaster, a constant struggle just to find balance through the adversity that my family went through,’’ Te’o says. “It hit me a number of times. When adversity hits like it did, my life became very plain, very black and white. It was like trying to walk through mud. It was kind of like, ‘Man, I know I can do this, but how long do I have to do this for?’
“And I would think of my grandfather. All the chemo he went through, how hard he fought. And he never complained. Never. He was always more worried about everyone else, about getting everyone through his illness. So when I lost my grandmother and Lennay, I thought of him. He was my strength.’’
So were Brian and Ottilia. Brian had to teach Manti how to run correctly when he was five. Ottilia made sure her son’s asthma was treated and would never hold him back.
“Manti actually was the antithesis of an athletic kid,’’ Brian says. “We went to great lengths for him and he went the rest of the way.’’
Manti finished his lunch that early-December day and relished the thought of going back to his hotel room to get some sleep. He won the Bronco Nagurski Award that night as the nation’s top defensive player, one of six major postseason awards he has earned by leading Notre Dame to the cusp of its first undefeated season since 1988.
Standing on the stage in the main ballroom of the Westin Hotel, resplendent in a black tuxedo and bow tie, Te’o read from a small slip of paper he kept hidden behind the podium. Still, he lost his way trying to remember everyone he wanted to thank.
Finally, Te’o, his eyes tinged red and glassy, said, “Thank you,” and the photographer moved to orchestrate the staged photos — Te’o hoisting the trophy, Te’o with Notre Dame coach Brian Kelly, Te’o with the other finalists.
Brian Te’o, a mountain of a man, much bigger than his 6-foot-2, 255-pound son, also had red, wet eyes. He was the one who pushed Manti when he was young and struggling to keep up with his older cousins athletically. He was the one who convinced his wife not to fly to South Bend in early September when Annette and Lennay passed away.
“I said, ‘Let him go, he’s got to fight through this,’’ Brian says. “And I guess, to some degree, in my head, I knew he would make it. Just because of what he’s done in the past, I knew he would pull through.
“And what people don’t understand is that Manti has done this for everyone but himself. He’s done it for our community back home, where many believe they can’t get out and make it on the mainland. He’s done it for Louis and Annette and Lennay. He’s done it for Notre Dame.
“I don’t know what the rest of his life will hold, none of us do. But Manti will pull through.’’