Sept. 23, 2011
Teammates know him by more than a few nicknames. Just how many, Jabaree Tuani says, is "crazy."
Almost as plentiful are the titles classmates have been awarding him for years. In high school, Tuani was chosen Best This and Most That, even elected class president. As a senior at the Naval Academy, he was picked to be captain of the football team.
About the only list longer than all of Tuani's handles and headings is the string of adjectives others glowingly invoke at the mere mention of his name.
"I could go on and on for days about Jabaree," says longtime friend Mason Graham.
Coaches can too.
"Without a doubt, the best defensive lineman we've had here," Buddy Green declares. "I just love him to death. He's the kind of guy you want all your players to be like."
Green has been grading Midshipmen defenders for the last 10 years of a coaching career spanning more than three decades. In all that time, one of the most remarkable moments Green's witnessed was a play he considers quintessential Tuani.
What defines it -- and, thus, defines him -- is the name printed on his birth certificate.
Jabaree Wayne Tuani was born in Honolulu on Nov. 28, 1989. His father, Leon McKissack, was an Army man stationed in Hawaii; his mother, Elisapeta Tuani, of Samoan descent. They chose to call their son a variation of the name Jabari, which in Swahili means brave.
Or fearless, which is exactly what popped into the mind of Navy head coach Ken Niumatalolo, upon seeing the same thing Green did.
It was last October, the 16th. The Midshipmen were hosting SMU. Once trailing by two touchdowns, they scrapped their way to the lead, 28-21. Now, inside the final 90 seconds, they were fighting to keep it.
The Mustangs' Kyle Padron dropped back to pass on second down, when the always-unrelenting Tuani rushed the quarterback. But as Padron scrambled away from the pocket and past his 20-yard line, Tuani's helmet was knocked loose.
He never hesitated, not for the tiniest fraction of a second. Eight yards later, his gold helmet left behind the line of scrimmage, Tuani caught up to Padron. Diving from behind, he helped make the tackle.
Time, seemingly at a standstill during Tuani's helmetless pursuit, soon ran out on SMU. The final notes of Blue and Gold cued a celebration that continued into Navy's locker room. Niumatalolo addressed the raucous Midshipmen.
"There's a ton of guys that did some great things, a lot of guys in this room" he shouted. "But there's one guy that typifies our team as a warrior, as a guy that was fearless..."
Hoots and applause interrupted. Everyone knew who, what Niumatalolo was getting at. The head coach picked up his thought.
"He's trying to make a dang tackle with no helmet!" Niumatalolo excitably continued. "(He) took one play out and came right back in!"
On that spot, Niumatalolo created a new honor. He called it The Warrior Award. Its inaugural recipient was the Mid who inspired it.
Green recalls being "scared" at the sight of Tuani, his head unprotected, hustling toward a potentially violent collision.
"Once I knew that he was okay, the following day I saw it on tape," Green recounted, nearly a full year later. "I said to myself, 'That's what Jabaree stands for.' He sent a message to the rest of the guys: this is the way we play. All he knew was to chase the football.
"He was locked in on what he needed to do. That one play is a great way of showing what Jabaree means to this team and how he leads this team, who he is and how he plays. That one play sums him up."
More than any numbers, however impressive they are for a defensive end.
They show Tuani's durability to some degree -- he's started 38 of Navy's last 39 games. But nowhere on his stat line is there an accounting of the many injuries he's played through. Last year alone he ached with two bad shoulders and a torn lateral meniscus in his right knee. Practice for him, from fall to following spring, was strictly non-contact.
Career totals tell a lot, just not nearly enough to fully measure his impact. Tuani's 32 tackles for loss, including 11 1/2 quarterback sacks, rank among the Academy's all-time leaders. But what about all the hits credited to so many others, each made possible by Tuani? Where did they register?
If not on paper, then with Niumatalolo.
"There are so many things you can't see, the push he gets, the ways he collapses holes, how he makes it easier for linebackers to go to the ball, on both the back side and front side of plays," Niumatalolo asserts. "Over the course of a year, Jabaree impacts the game more than stats show."
A prime example is the most critical turning point of last year's Army-Navy game.
The Black Knights scored their first touchdown to draw within 17-7, forced a punt and are about to narrow the gap again. With barely more than a minute left in the first half, quarterback Trent Steelman takes a first-down snap from the Mids 1-yard line.
Most of what happens next is blatantly obvious. Steelman tries to surge off the right side, Navy's Tyler Simmons punches the ball loose and Wyatt Middleton runs it 98 yards in the other direction. Sixty-eight seconds before halftime, it's game over.
Niumatalolo looks past what's in plain sight. Before Simmons can come up and Middleton can take off, someone has to seize control of the line of scrimmage. That somebody is Tuani.
"Jabaree stuffed the hole up," Niumatalolo explains. "He knocked the offensive line into the quarterback."
Specifically, he stood up and shoved back Army's right tackle Jason Johnson. Five plays later, before the half officially ended, he beat Johnson again, hounding Steelman for a 10-yard loss.
"He's a difference maker," Niumatalolo concludes. "You see a lot of great players, but very few difference makers. Jabaree changes games."
That he does it as a Midshipman is due to decisions that changed lives.
Tuani wasn't quite two years old when his family moved to Fayetteville, N.C. He lived there throughout childhood, remaining with Elisapeta after she and Leon divorced. By the time he reached high school, his father settled near Nashville.
Leon regularly visited Jabaree and, as a 16-year serviceman, routinely reinforced certain values to his son.
"He told me, 'Make sure that whomever you meet, you show them respect,'" says Tuani, citing a piece of advice heard often in his early lifetime.
Eventually, Leon offered something else. He invited Jabaree to live with him and attend nearby Brentwood Academy. His son accepted.
Established in 1969, Brentwood is a parochial college preparatory school enrolling fewer than a thousand students from grades 6-12. For a kid taught to live by the golden rule, it was the perfect fit.
"What sets Brentwood Academy apart are the kind of people who go there," says Graham, who today is one of four Brentwood graduates reunited as teammates in Annapolis. "You can see it in the kind of people who come to the Naval Academy."
Particularly the native of Hawaii transplanted from North Carolina; he of an easy smile, distinct laugh and a knack for excelling at everything.
"Jabaree always has a smile, and you can hear his laugh from a mile away," Graham said a couple of weeks ago. "I was just joking yesterday that Jabaree was voted 'Best Everything' in high school. He was the model student."
Popular not only with peers, Tuani was a favorite of parents.
"My mom loves him," Graham concedes, elongating the word 'loves' in his slight Rocky Top drawl.
"Going to Brentwood Academy was definitely a family-based atmosphere," says Tuani, whose mother and younger brother soon followed him to Tennessee. "There were 800 people total on campus. I knew everybody's parents. I'd see them drop their kids off, I spent weekends at their homes."
Tuani loved Brentwood; and Brentwood loved him back. At the urging of a school mentor, Brad Perry, he sought a seat in student government. Fellow students elected him Brentwood's first African-American president.
"It was a great honor to be respected by peers," Tuani says.
At the same time, he starred in three sports. He lettered on the wrestling mat and track & field pad, as one of Tennessee's top shot putters. But he truly distinguished himself on the football field, where Brentwood men have long separated themselves from others.
The Eagles captured a small-school state title in only their fifth year of existence. They moved up a class and won six more championships from 1980-91. Another jump ensued, to Class 5A, and two more crowns followed in 1995 and '96. A decade later, they earned another.
Tuani shared in that playoff triumph with his good friend Graham. There was something else they had in common.
While some teammates were being recruited by big-time programs, Tuani and Graham weren't attracting much interest outside of Division I-AA colleges. In Graham's case, the initial overtures from Navy came from baseball coaches.
One of their suitors was an assistant at Bucknell University by the name of Ashley Ingram. A Georgia native educated in Alabama, Ingram relied on Southern ties to discover both. But he understood that neither, especially Tuani, was very likely to come play for the Bison.
"I knew Brentwood Academy had great football, great academics and was just a great all-around school," says Ingram. "I wouldn't say that I was recruiting (Jabaree) hard because I didn't think I could get him. I talked to him a time or two on the phone."
Meanwhile, Ingram himself was being wooed. In Annapolis, Niumatalolo succeeded Paul Johnson and was assembling his staff. Seeking an offensive line coach, he extended an offer to Bucknell's offensive coordinator, Ashley Ingram.
Outfitted in blue-and-gold instead of orange-and-blue, Ingram hit the road recruiting. Planning to make Brentwood one of his first stops, he reached out to then Eagles assistant Philip Montgomery.
"I called him and asked, 'Is there any chance (for Navy) with Jabaree?'" Ingram remembers. "He said, 'Coach, Jabaree went to Furman this weekend and he's close to committing. If you're gonna do (anything), you better get over here quick.'"
Montgomery wasn't exaggerating. Although by that time Navy was onto Graham, and he was into the Academy, his buddy Tuani was off to Greenville, S.C.
"Trying to decide where to go to school, we weren't set on the same place," Graham said. "But we definitely talked to each other."
"Mason was talking to me about how badly he wanted to come (to Annapolis)," says Tuani. "I was like, 'Oh, good luck to you, Mason.' I was going to Furman to see where my football talents could take me."
He toured Furman's campus and met with its coaches. Tuani was all but convinced.
"I called my dad and said, 'This is the place for me,'" he remembers.
But before committing to the Paladins, his phone rang.
"My high school coach called me on Friday and asked if I could hold off (on a decision) until Monday," explained Tuani, whose return home intersected with Ingram's arrival.
"I went to talk to him, I watched his highlight video, I watched him at wrestling practice," Ingram says. "Obviously, I thought he was a very good player and had a great upside."
With little time to act, he dialed Niumatalolo and told his boss as much.
"I just said, 'I feel really strongly about this guy,'" Ingram recalls. "Coach (Niumatalolo) told me, basically, that if you feel that strongly get his film up here and we'll move on it quick."
Within 24 hours, a FedEx package arrived at Ricketts Hall. Both Green and defensive line coach Dale Pehrson were asked for their opinions.
Here was Ingram, brand new to Navy's staff, calling on colleagues about a kid other Division I evaluators either overlooked or had written off. Wasn't he aware that at 6-feet tall, Tuani was too short to be a major college lineman? Didn't he notice the scale when Tuani weighed-in at wrestling practice at less than 215 pounds?
Ingram wasn't distracted by what he couldn't see; the missing inches or pounds.
"I felt confident about it, and after talking to the coaches at Brentwood Academy, they felt (Tuani) could be as good as any player they had in a longtime," Ingram explains. "They felt strongly about him, and I trusted what I saw. But I also got the film sent up here (to Annapolis). Coach Pehrson said he saw two plays, and he'd seen enough."
Green concurred. His reaction was identically instantaneous.
"I can't believe this guy is available," Green immediately thought to himself. "Maybe he's a little short, but he plays like he's 6-foot-6. He's one of those you don't think twice about. It doesn't take long."
Tuani's action flick got two thumbs up, and Ingram got the go-ahead to invite him for an official visit. That weekend Tuani stepped on The Yard for the first time.
"I got in so late recruiting him for Navy, I really didn't know where (Jabaree) stood," Ingram admits. "He came on his visit here, and all weekend people were asking me, 'What is he going to do?' I really didn't know. I guess on Sunday, he committed to Coach Niumatalolo, while he was still here."
"The opportunity was too great to pass up," Tuani says four years later, and weeks away from the service selection he hopes will lead him back to his birthplace as a Surface Warfare officer. "Having a job opportunity for five years is a stress release, especially in this economy."
Tuani speaks practically, consistent with a working-class ethos he's never outgrown. Even as his stature has increased.
He concluded 2008 as the ECAC Rookie of the Year, outpolling others from teams like Penn State and West Virginia. And began 2011 officially a candidate for the Rotary Lombardi Award, which is presented annually to the nation's top lineman.
"Jabaree is a quiet and humble guy," Green says. "He's worked to get better, tried to take care of his teammates and led by example. He's still the same guy he was when he went into his first game as a freshman four years ago and earned the starting job at Wake Forest."
On that night, Tuani was inserted in place of an injured Michael Walsh; on the road against the 16th-ranked team in the country. The evening ended with a 24-17 victory. Tuani made six tackles, including two for loss, and forced a fumble. It was one of six turnovers by the Demon Deacons.
"I can't remember ever putting a defensive lineman in a starting role against a nationally-ranked opponent and seeing him play so consistently well in his first ballgame," Green asserts. "The tempo of the game is so fast, you usually go through growing pains. But he played so well early, and he's gotten better every year."
As a kid considered an ill-fit at Division I, he's also gotten the best of opponents far more heralded than he. A year after his starting debut in Winston-Salem, Tuani was instrumental in another road upset of a Top 25 foe, Notre Dame.
Opposite right tackle, Sam Young, a future Dallas Cowboy and Buffalo Bill, Tuani exploded out of his stance and threw quarterback Jimmy Clausen for a loss. With a minute to go and trailing the Midshipmen, 21-14, the Fighting Irish went from 3rd-and-10 at their 13 to 4th-and-forever at their 3-yard line.
The very next snap, Tuani bull-rushed from the QB's right, before Clausen was decked from his blind side by Craig Schaefer for the decisive safety in a 23-21 victory.
Quickness, strength and fundamentals -- from footwork to the use of his hands -- help to explain how Tuani is so consistently troublesome for opponents. Why he is so highly-regarded by teammates has much to do with an incredibly uncommon inner-drive; even by Naval Academy standards.
"He works as hard as anyone I've ever seen," Green maintains. "The biggest thing about Jabaree is that he leads by example. He probably plays as many snaps as any defensive end in the country.
"Jabaree gives you everything he has on Saturday and throughout the week. Every player and coach can learn from him."
"He's the perfect defensive captain," adds Graham.
For Tuani, it's about respect: for the game, his teammates and the tradition he upholds.
At defensive end, he's an extension of ex-Mids like Walsh, Cameron Marshall and Matt Nechak.
"I keep seeing their names and faces," he says. "Really, all the (linemen) still have an impact on me today. They taught me about Navy football and the legacy I'd like to leave (behind) here, so that younger guys can pass the torch on. It's what makes this place special."
And as captain, Tuani's taking care to pass on what predecessors gave him.
"Learning from them was such a great experience," he says of Navy's last three defensive captains, Clint Sovie, Ross Pospisil and Wyatt Middleton. "I sat back and watched how they treated everybody, and had so much devotion to the team.
"Their legacy is in my hands. I definitely don't want to turn that around for the next decade. I want to pass the torch to the next captains."
That flame is sure to keep burning bright, in the good hands of, truly, a fearless leader.
"He's been a great, great captain," Niumatalolo says of Jabaree Tuani. "He's taken on his role with a great sense of responsibility and a sense of honor. It means something to him."