R.I.P #55
From May 3, 2012
Junior Seau wasn't a San Diego Charger. Junior Seau was THE San Diego Chargers.
Growing up a diehard sports fan in San Diego during the 1990s, I have more Junior "SAY-ow!" memories than could ever be counted. He will always be my childhood hero. He will always be the one we were proudest to call our own. He was San Diego through and through, and it didn't matter if you wanted to be a quarterback, running back, wide receiver, or DB; when we split the teams up to play at the park, schoolyard, or behind the end zones of the high school game, we were all pretending we were Junior. He was and will forever be our guy.
As I've reflected on Junior over the past two days, it has refreshed a thought I've had several times before. Junior Seau will be the player that I tell my kids about one day. As certain as anything could be, as soon as they can watch a football game, I will be telling them about the most electric player I'd ever seen and teach them his trademark fist pump. Which is an interesting thought to stand out, as two of my clearest Seau memories come from father-son exchanges while watching Seau.
I went to my first NFL game in 1992. A first-round playoff game in the pouring rain, the Chiefs came into the Murph to battle it out on a Sunday afternoon. I remember it was rocking. I remember we won. And I remember that I loved it. But that's about it, not too many details stand out from what must be one of the greatest rainy Sundays a 5 year-old has ever had. Except I remember that all I wanted to do was see Junior. We weren't going to see the Chargers, we were going to see Junior. And I can still remember the excitement in my dad's voice as he lifted me up and pointed him out on the second play of the game. There he was, just as we'd seen him on TV a thousand times before, arms and hands shaking, the slight up and down bob of the head as if he was confirming for the opposing QB "yeah, I'm coming for you." To this day, that was one of the most exciting moments I've had in a stadium, just seeing the electricity of Junior Seau in person for the first time.
I remember the last time I saw Seau as a Charger nearly as clearly. It was at the end of the 2002 season, a year the Bolts had started off 7-1, before dropping a few in a row coming into the classic Raider-Charger showdown. The game confirmed, as we feared, that the Bolts just weren't as good as we allowed our hopes to get for them. However, there was one moment I'll never forget from that game. There was a father and young son, just about the age I was at my first game, who had snuck down during the game to sit right behind my dad and I for a few plays. They were both decked out in Raiders gear from head-to-toe, including facepaint for the boy. We'd assume like any other Raider fan, that had just wanted to get closer to check out the classic Black Hole that always made its way to the section one over from us for every Raider game at the Q. Then after a Chargers punt, the father turned to his son and said "You ready? You ready to see something?" He lifted his son up to sit atop his shoulders, "look right there. Number 55. Number 55. Junior Seau. Watch him, just watch him. Don't take your eyes off him. Look at that! That's intensity. That's energy. That's someone that loves the game. That's how you want to play when you grow up one day! Every single play he plays that way. We're Raider fans, but you got to respect a guy like that."
Yes. Yes, indeed you do. Thanks for the memories 55.