A Life Overflowing With Talent I Never Knew Before
No sentence explains America more clearly than the one saying that America is obsessed with sports.
Its total sports industry dwarfs any competitor to the point of embarrassment, and if you shift your gaze from the pros to the amateurs, the rest of the world combined still wouldn't be enough to match it.
And so, more than any other country, America was overflowing with teenage sports stars — and the football team at Kahuku High School in Hawaii had spent the past two years pouring considerable effort into one particular boy.
But things weren't as rosy as they seemed.
"What the hell is Mater Day?"
#. January 3, 2016 — United States, Hawaii — Oahu, Kahuku CDP, Kahuku High School
Five years earlier, an interview with a certain boy at the 44th USATF Junior Olympics Track & Field Championships would go on to change the future of high school football teams across the entire nation.
Dwayne Moi Stone.
Despite having no football experience whatsoever, this was the name of the boy who had held the #1 spot in the national high school recruiting rankings for the past three years.
Over the past five years, countless high school football coaches had made the pilgrimage to Maui just to see him, and one school had even gone so far as to send its students on a "field trip."
Much like this Mater Day.
"Damn it. We already did this last year, didn't we?"
"October, to be exact, Coach."
"God's sake! And they're coming again?"
"Yes. In April, this time."
"Unbelievable. Is Haggerty on campus?"
"I'd assume so?"
"I'd better pay him a visit right now."
Gavin Travis, head coach of the finest high school football program in Hawaii, hurried out of his office.
His destination —
Knock knock knock.
"Come on in—!"
"…"
Click.
The principal's office at Kahuku High School.
The man behind the desk pulled off his glasses at the sight of Gavin.
"Oh — Gavin. What brings you here?"
"Mater Day is coming to Hawaii on a school trip again."
"What?"
"Damn it all! That rotten Logan bastard is scheming to steal Dwayne Moi Stone away from us! If we sit on our hands, we're going to lose a Hawaii local boy to the mainland — do you understand what that means?!"
At the sight of Gavin Travis seething with fury, John Haggerty's expression hardened instantly, and he picked up the phone.
He made his calls with a grave face, set the receiver down a short while later, grabbed the hat hanging on the coat rack, and motioned for Gavin Travis to follow.
The two men headed for the school's heliport.
Helicopters were a common sight in Hawaii.
"We're flying out right now."
The principal and the football coach of Kahuku High School, both fully aware of how serious the situation was, boarded the helicopter, and the pilot lifted off into the sky without delay.
Shouting over the roar of the rotors, John Haggerty raised his voice to be heard.
"Moi is not just some local boy!!"
"You're telling me!!"
"Those damn mainlanders will never, ever get their hands on him!!"
Ta-da-da-da-da—
The swift, emergency-grade response paid off, and before long the Kahuku High helicopter touched down in Paia, on the island of Maui.
"Be back in thirty minutes!"
"Yes, sir!"
The pilot gave a thumbs-up, and John Haggerty and Gavin Travis turned away without a second glance and climbed into a waiting car.
Thud.
"Those Mater people. Are they serious?"
"Is there a place where they're not serious?"
"A hundred and fifty of them, Gavin. A hundred and fifty."
"And that's just the ones we know about."
The boy who had driven the two men to these extremes was being hailed as a once-in-a-lifetime talent capable of rewriting the history of high school football in America.
The proof was the tidal wave of attention.
One hundred and seventy-eight football programs nationwide wanted Dwayne Moi Stone.
Some whispers even put the number at two hundred.
And that was counting football programs alone.
"Hell, the kid just threw ninety-nine miles an hour a while back."
"Ah — baseball."
"That's right."
Dwayne Moi Stone had talent as a baseball player, too.
All-time great talent, at that.
The story of nineteen Major League teams sending scouts to watch the games of a boy barely thirteen years old had already passed into legend.
Not only that — every national age-group record in the 100m, 200m, 400m, high jump, and long jump belonged to Dwayne Moi Stone.
And in swimming, which he'd taken up at eleven, he'd broken age-group records in the 50m, 100m, and 1,500m.
Even basketball programs wanted a piece of him.
Despite never having played a single game of basketball in his life.
Screech.
Thud.
"We'll be back soon."
"We'll wait nearby."
Vroom—
The car that had carried them pulled away toward some destination unknown.
And the two men standing before a certain restaurant stepped inside with the expressions of men who had made up their minds.
Ting-a-ling—
The moment the restaurant door swung open, every eye in the place turned to Gavin Travis and John Haggerty.
The woman at the counter greeted the two of them with a warm smile.
"Well, land's sakes! What on earth brings you two here?"
"What brings anyone anywhere. We came to eat."
"From Oahu to Maui?"
"Worth the trip, I'd say."
The helicopter ride from Oahu to Maui took roughly an hour and twenty minutes each way.
It wasn't a distance anyone would cross for a simple lunch, so Jessica Stone made her guess and steered the two men toward the most secluded table in the restaurant.
And since the two men had no reason to hide their purpose anyway, they got straight to the point.
"What did Mater have to say?"
"Nothing much."
"Then this should be easy. Please go ahead."
"Hohoho. You two never were ones for patience. Fine — I'll tell you."
The reason Mater Day High School bothered to visit Hawaii twice in a single year was, obviously enough, not because the islands made an ideal field trip destination.
It was because they needed a legal pretext to make contact with the boy.
And they'd added a little sweetener on top.
"They've asked you to cater a meal for the kids."
"How many in total?"
"Two hundred and sixty."
"…"
By footing the bill for the visiting students' meals, they meant to put money in Jessica Stone's pocket.
When it came to sheer student numbers, Hawaii couldn't compete with the mainland.
John Haggerty needed to think fast.
Fortunately, an idea came to him quickly.
"Mel."
"?"
"She originally set out to be a teacher, didn't she?"
"What of it?"
"We'll guarantee her a job. Ten years. No — twenty!"
"…"
Kahuku High School couldn't offer anything substantial right this moment.
But it could guarantee employment for Melicia Stone.
Besides, she had no desire to leave Hawaii in the first place.
Which meant it was something no mainland school could ever match.
"If she wants one, we'll provide a home as well."
"That won't be necessary."
"Oh—?"
"Her in-laws live on Oahu."
"Ah — r-right, of course they do."
With an expression that gave away absolutely nothing, Jessica Stone nodded and headed for the kitchen, telling them to stay for a meal before they left.
Only after she was gone did the two men finally feel like they could breathe again.
"Whew — so what do you think?"
"Hard to say. It's the best we can do, for our part."
"So we're leaning on Hawaii, then."
"That we are."
California.
Florida.
Texas.
Ohio.
Georgia.
States with storied high school football programs and powerhouse universities could offer far better terms.
Of course, every single one of those offers would violate the regulations laid down by the National Federation of State High School Associations — but in the decades since those rules were written, they had been enforced exactly zero times.
When it came to generational talent, that is.
Time and time again, countless under-the-table deals and loopholes ran rampant.
Ting-a-ling—
"Hm?"
The restaurant door opened again, and in walked a boy on his school break.
Except "boy" felt like a strange word for a frame like that.
John Haggerty's mood lifted the moment he laid eyes on the kid's face, and he couldn't help raising his hand and calling out.
"Moi!"
"?"
Spotting John Haggerty, the boy answered with a bright smile and a wave.
Then he ambled over to the table where the two men sat.
"We keep running into each other lately."
"Ha! We came for lunch."
"From Oahu? Good one."
"…By the way, Moi."
"Yes?"
"You look like you've grown again."
"Ah — about two centimeters, I think."
"So where does that put you?"
"185 centimeters, 91 kilograms."
"Ninety-one kilograms?"
"Yes. I've been hitting the weights pretty hard lately."
"…"
185 centimeters, 91 kilograms.
That was the physique of a boy who had turned fourteen just days ago.
"How's the body treating you?"
"Great. I set a new personal record surfing a few days ago, actually."
"You went in the ocean? In this weather?"
"Island boy for life, sir. This is nothing — like chewing gum."
Something about the words island boy put John Haggerty strangely at ease.
Dwayne Moi Stone said he was glad to see them, then wandered off.
Before long, Gavin Travis's voice drifted over.
"Every time I look at that kid, I want to dump our entire budget at his feet."
"Who wouldn't?"
"Whew — right? That boy is going to be the best there ever was. I'm telling you."
"I feel the exact same way."
Every time they laid eyes on Dwayne Moi Stone, the two men could picture it with ease — the day, not far off, when he'd be hoisting the Super Bowl MVP trophy.
Before long, they finished their meal and stepped outside.
They were about to call the waiting car when their eyes were drawn, once again, across the street to the beach — to Dwayne Moi Stone.
The boy was throwing an NFL league ball right now.
The ball climbed into the sky and sailed an astonishing distance.
"…God's sake, Gavin. Have you ever seen anything like that?"
"Never, John. Never. Something like that — I'm seeing it for the first time in my life."
The spot where the league ball leaving Dwayne Moi Stone's hand had finally come down.
The distance, roughly —
"How far would you say?"
"Eighty yards?"
"Holy…"
It looked comfortably beyond seventy meters.
#. February 5, 2016 — United States, Hawaii — Maui, Paia, Restaurant Aloha
"I'm sorry — what?"
It was Saturday, and strangers had come into the restaurant.
I took them for tourists at first, but they weren't.
And they brought up something entirely out of left field.
"They want us to do a Decision Show."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes! Absolutely!"
The man, identifying himself as someone from 'Fox Sports,' proposed holding a Decision Show here next week.
Yes.
I hadn't misheard.
A Decision Show.
There'd been no such thing in my previous life, but in this one, LeBron James — the greatest player in the NBA — had famously used an entire television broadcast to announce his free agency destination.
And now they were asking me to do one.
Are these people out of their minds?
"Well, sure — because you're the guy Usain Bolt himself talked about wanting to see keep running."
"What does that have to do with any of this?"
"It means you're a story. People will tune in."
Flabbergasted, I glanced around the room.
But the man in front of me was completely oblivious to the atmosphere.
Something tells me this guy isn't exactly the most popular person at his office.
A textbook case of a man who believes his own opinion is the only one that matters.
Still, I decided to let him down gently.
Because I'm a kind islander, after all.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm going to decline."
"Aw, come on — don't be like that."
"I mean it. I'm only fifteen."
"LeBron had been on everyone's radar since he was seventeen. You know, right? McDonald's All-American? The only high school game in American history ever broadcast nationwide. But you can get there even sooner. The Decision! What do you say?"
"…Haa—"
Before anything else, it wasn't as though I couldn't understand why this man was pushing so hard.
Like I said, I received a message from Usain Bolt at last year's World Championships in Beijing — where I'd won gold medals in three events.
And not just any message. It came in an official press conference.
Some American reporter had asked Bolt whether he knew me, and the man lit up instantly — of course he knew me, he said, and added that he hoped I'd keep chasing track and field for a long time to come.
Thanks to that, I had a pretty rough stretch for quite a while.
USATF, an organization I'd assumed had given up on me, spent more than three months chasing me around.
Then the broadcasters showed up at our front door to bother us too, until Dad finally took a day off work and shooed them all away himself.
Being chased.
Doing the chasing.
I had no intention of repeating that experience ever again.
But Fox Sports was relentless.
And so, in the end —
"Get lost! Right now!"
"Wh-what did you say?"
"This is our restaurant, and these people are customers eating their meals! Look what you've done — the whole kitchen's stopped! So beat it! If you want to talk, come back after closing! You absolute clown."
The customers, who had disliked Fox Sports from the very start, drove the broadcast crew out of the restaurant themselves.
They did it knowing that if we threw them out, ugly consequences were sure to follow — a kindness, of a sort.
It was tied to the culture here, the one where everyone looks out for one another.
We're islanders. We're Samoans.
And this neighborhood in particular is a place where people bearing four different surnames live together like a single family.
We never turned strangers away wholesale — the tourism industry that kept the local economy alive wouldn't allow it — but the moment someone started hassling a neighbor, the whole town would close ranks into one.
Exactly as they'd just done.
"Everyone! Meals are on the house today!"
"Wheeee!!"
"Boss Moi, you're the best!!"
"Moi? You're helping with the serving, aren't you?"
"Of course!"
It's not exactly a secret, but I have no intention of leaving Hawaii.
At the very least, not until I go to college.
Which means my high school was already decided.
Still, I had no desire to make it too easy for them.
The more desperately they wanted me, the more they'd treasure me.
You could call it calculating — but then, I'm fifty-five years old, after all.
Physically, of course, I still feel fifteen.
Mining my past life's memories and experiences for exactly what I needed, and when I needed it, had taken considerable effort on my part.
"Here you go. Need a beer too?"
"You know it."
"Ah — you do realize the beer isn't free, right?"
"Moi! Come on, really?"
"Gotta be precise here. Mom said the food's free — she never said a word about the drinks."
"But a beer's basically a meal to us!"
"I'm a minor, so I wouldn't know. Can't drink."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"No idea. Anyway — cough it up."
"The nerve of this kid!"
A life overflowing with talent and physical gifts I'd never known before.
And a family's love, too.
And I was enjoying every last bit of it.