TURNING on the car radio last night, I heard a Pittsbugh Steelers' fan excitedly getting in his two-cents worth on one of those nationally syndicated sports talk shows. Call from Steelers
‘a gift from God’He was praising Bill Cowher's draft picks.
After tossing out hosannas for the selection of Louisiana State offensive lineman Alan Faneca in the first round, and Arizona State defensive lineman Jeremy Staat in the second round, he added, "And I can't believe we got Ma'afala in the sixth. With him and 'The Bus' we're gonna wear some teams down."
The average Steeler fan doesn't know much about the injuries that marred Chris Fuamatu-Ma'afala's college career.
They don't know that the 5-foot-11 athlete desperately put himself through a personal conditioning hell over the past four months to trim down from 280 to 248 pounds.
They don't know he came dangerously close to losing everything he'd dreamed of by entering the draft as a junior.
All they want to know is that Chris Fuamatu-Ma'afala is rolling thunder.
That if he's used in combination with All-Pro Jerome Bettis, opposing defenses will be blacker and bluer than ever.
IN his sophomore season at Utah, the university had a poster made of Fuamatu-Ma'afala barreling ahead with the football in his thick arms. The caption on the poster read: "He's a truck -- and you're road kill."
Amid the family celebration of Chris' selection in the sixth round (178th overall), older brother Roy suggested that "The Bus" was being joined by a "semi truck."
Older sister, "Mo" (Leimomi), took issue. ''No, no, he's not a 'semi truck.' It's got to be a more local nickname. He's 'The Manapua Truck.' "
It might be hard to make that stick in Pittsburgh where no one knows the definition of manapua.
But Mo insists it'll work, and she added, "When Chris gets his first paycheck, I'm gonna have him buy me one -- a manapua truck."
Fuamatu-Ma'afala is a truck all right. He's a vehicle of destruction on the field.
But he's the same humble, fun-loving giant of a manchild he was when he played for St. Louis School.
When Cowher called, Fuamatu-Ma'afala found it hard to believe it was really him. When Cowher told him to hold the line while he waited for the team ahead of the Steelers to make their selection, he pleaded, "Pick me, coach, pick me."
WHAT you see is what you get with this young man, who grew up with no reason to believe he was any more special than the next person. Even a six-figure paycheck isn't likely to change that.
It's hard to feel you're special when you live in a four-room house in Mayor Wright Housing with nine brothers and sisters and two parents.
And you never feel especially secure about anything when you live in what is arguably the toughest neighborhood in Hawaii.
If Pittsburgh Steelers fans could've seen the tears moisten Fuamatu-Ma'afala's cheeks when he put down the phone Sunday, and the way he embraced his first-love and wife-to-be, Adriana Wilson of Waianae, they would've adopted him right away.
He's a guy who had nothing and risked everything to play inside their stadium.
"This has got to be a gift from God," he said.
Pat Bigold has covered sports for daily newspapers
in Hawaii and Massachusetts since 1978.