Sidelines
Kahuku’s Fonoti
is a wild Barney
out to get MiamiIF Barney the Dinosaur suddenly snapped at the end of the show and went on a three-state stomping rampage, that would be Toniu Fonoti.
Watch today, as this former Kahuku Red Raider plays for the BCS national championship in the Rose Bowl for Nebraska against Miami.
You'll see it.
Same size. Same shape. Same pleasant, giggling laugh.
(Not quite so purple.)
You wouldn't even need to say, "Barney the Dinosaur with a football helmet," because Toniu often flattens people without wearing headgear, like Gerald Ford.
I've seen that guy have his helmet pop off and keep right on running people over, bareheaded, like he didn't even notice, like it didn't even occur to him that, yes, all the other guys out here are wearing iron FACEMASKS.
He doesn't need one.
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And I've seen him hit somebody so hard the other guy's helmet came right OFF, flying, bouncing, rolling along the carpet like a decapitated head.And then came that Barney goofy giggle, Toniu's whole body shaking with laughter so that you can see it all the way up in the press box.
And the whole stadium shares his joy.
It's just so much FUN. It's great to be Toniu Fonoti, to be a young bulldozer, a super-sized wrecking ball, a Samoan sledgehammer that just shatters everything in its path.
He doesn't even slow down.
He doesn't even really get into a low hitting stance. He just runs, and everything in his way falls down.
Or bounces off.
Or gets buried in the ground.
And he keeps on running, looking for more.
Now that's football.
When he was a freshman, when he was 17 years old, and he didn't know anything other than how to hit, Dominic Raiola lined up next to him. And at the line of scrimmage, Dominic would point things out for the confused young Toniu, point out the guy across the line, and then Dominic would say, "Get HIM."
And Toniu would just about kill the poor guy.
But now he's even better, now he's unstoppable, now he's incredible.
Now Toniu knows the PLAYS.
Now he's famous, now the TV guys point him out, and now they call him the Pancake Man, because he's set records for flattening people.
Even though they still pronounce his name like it rhymes with "canoe."
But gentle, mild-mannered Toniu never says anything. He even cut his long hair to fit a more conservative Nebraska style.
I talked to him a couple of times, when we were both in Nebraska. I told him that my brother lived in Hauula, too. Toniu's eyes danced.
His voice is deeper than Barry White's, baby, and his chuckles remind you of dark, rich, polished koa wood.
He seems so laid back and giddy and easygoing and happy, like nothing could ever really bother him.
And then he gets on the field, and he's violent and savage and fierce.
And he LAUGHS about it.
Like Barney the Dinosaur gone horribly wrong.
Kalani Simpson's column runs Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays.
He can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com