The Way I See It
KIMO von Oelhoffen's voice rose several octaves as I gave him the news. If I was a certified voice coach, I could tell you just about what level the 6-foot-4, 305-pounder achieved when he learned that Molokai had won the state baseball title Friday night at Rainbow Stadium. Making it to the top
their own way"No! Molokai? No way!"
Could've cracked a mirror.
I was surprised he hadn't heard it from anyone else before last night, but I was just as glad to get such a genuine reaction.
"Oh, I'm ecstatic! Oh, I'm proud!" were the next words I heard him blurt over the phone.
You've got to enjoy hearing a millionaire professional athlete get so excited about something his high school alma mater accomplishes a decade after he has graduated.
Von Oelhoffen shared the news with his wife, former Wahine basketball player Tondi Redden.
If the sixth-year Cincinnati Bengals defensive lineman didn't have such an intensive conditioning schedule to keep with training camp less than two months off, I think he would be on a plane en route to Hawaii right now.
IN fact, his 10th year class reunion is in a week or so, and he's invited. But when you're at von Oelhoffen's level, you don't take chances with a career that was so improbable.
It was improbable because von Oelhoffen was indeed a Farmer. And, hey, Farmers don't play football.
There are plenty of talented athletes but not enough money in the program for it.
Instead, Von Oelhoffen played basketball and teamed with Jarinn Akana in his junior year to secure fourth place in the state tournament.
He learned to play football in college.
Not too many guys take that route to the NFL.
Not too many guys can appreciate making a living at sports the way von Oelhoffen can appreciate it. That's because he was a Farmer.
"We slept in the McKinley weight room, on the gym floors at Maui High and Lanai High, and once we stayed in the dorms at Kamehameha," he said. Now the dorms were luxury.
He also knew each and every Molokai volleyball player who died in the 1989 plane crash. They'd spent the previous night sleeping on a floor.
"My best friend's sister was on that plane," he said, his voice dropping.
If something like that doesn't make you appreciate what you've got, then nothing will.
AND you've got to appreciate where Fiamalu Penitani came from en route to becoming sumo god Musashimaru.
Penitani was a somewhat clueless, youthful behemoth when I first spoke with him a decade ago in Waianae. He wasn't sure what to make of sumo, even though he was about to be sent to Japan for a tryout.
As a defensive lineman for Waianae, he toughened his hands by slapping a palm tree. But he had to be assured it was OK to tackle the quarterback.
For fun, he said he and his younger brother would look off the beaten path for abandoned cars and tip them over. Sometimes he would actually run into cars in the Waianae lot and dent them with his huge body.
After he got to the stable in Japan, I recall one phone interview in which he told me how ashamed he was to wear the sumo garb that exposes the buttocks.
If he hadn't overcome his playfulness, timidity, and modesty, I wonder where Penitani would be now. He had to grow up fast when he got to Japan, and it's rather amazing how well he did it.
Pat Bigold has covered sports for daily newspapers
in Hawaii and Massachusetts since 1978.
