It takes a village, to raise a Tagovailoa
Written by: Drew Afualo
Photos by: Caroline Japal
The Walk of Champions
It’s noon on a Saturday, and the sun is blazing on the University of Alabama campus, in the rural college town of Tuscaloosa, Ala. Diane Tagovailoa stands proudly – decked out in Crimson Tide gear from head to toe – as she gathers her family behind the statue of a football player at the northwest end of the iconic Bryant-Denny stadium. She tells them to keep a lookout for their favorite new member of the team.
As she herds the group, one of the many children in tow asks for what seems like the 100th time, “When is Tua going to come out?” Diane glances at him and laughs, saying, “Soon baby, just keep looking forward.” She glances at one of her brothers in attendance and says with a sarcastic smile as she sucks her teeth, “So impatient.”
They all are waiting for the child's older cousin, and oldest son of Diane, Tua Tagovailoa, to participate in the very first “Walk of Champions" of his college career. Per tradition, this is when the Alabama football team walks toward the stadium before a home game, as thousands gather along the sidewalk to catch a mere glimpse of these glorified student athletes.
Tua was ranked the No. 4 high-school quarterback in the nation before graduating early from St. Louis School in Honolulu a few months ago and starting his college career early, by coming to this spring camp. He has been deemed the “next Marcus Mariota,” hearkening another former St. Louis player, who won the Heisman Trophy at the University of Oregon, as the best college football player in the country. His mother, Diane, has rallied more than 20 people in her group, to watch as Tua embarks on a walk that, officially, introduces him to the world as a quarterback on a national championship-winning college football program.
The air is thick with moisture, and the sun’s rays are intense, but Diane stands firm, not taking her eyes off the pavement in front of her. Prepped with a fully charged iPhone and headphones in her ears, Diane starts a Facebook Live session, garnering hundreds of views in seconds, sharing with the virtual world this monumental moment for her first-born son.
As time passes and some people retreat to the safety of shade, the Tagovailoas scan the area anxiously. Some of them fiddle with all of the personalized candy and kukui-nut leis they handmade for Tua. “We had a friend make these for him, and we’ve been getting lots of compliments on them,” Diane says with a smirk, as her impatience grows.
Then, almost as if on cue, the crowd erupts with cheering as football players start filing down the walkway toward the stadium. Even though they start to walk through a sea of red, it’s not hard to distinguish players from fans, given the sheer size of each one (not to mention the uniform). But as half the line hooks a left and walk past the Ewa Beach locals, spotted amongst the many football helmet covered heads is a snug black jersey on one of the only olive-toned players on the team.
On his chest is an embroidered 13, Tua’s number since his high school days at St. Louis, and the family spots him immediately. Instantly, they all erupt in cheers of their own, much more unique than regular hooting and hollering. The Tagovailoas let the crowd know exactly who they are and where they come from with loud, boisterous “Cheehoos!” lasting the entire time Tua can be seen from their spot on the stairs. As he disappears into the stadium tunnel, the family is all smiles as they realize that they just witnessed what could be the beginning of an era.
After the family has managed to get everyone into the stadium smoothly – a difficult feat considering Diane brought 15 people to their seats (not counting the other six or seven who didn’t go in to watch) – she walks out of the tunnel used by players and into the light herself. Greeted by the roar of 74,000 people, attending a meaningless spring football exhibition, she looks overcome with emotion. “This is his first ‘A-Day’ game," she says. "So this is a big deal for him.”
She then leads the way, along with Tua’s younger brother, Taulia, to their assigned seats, in a special section roped off specifically for the families of players. Everyone in this section looks like their own individual franchises, covered head-to-toe in t-shirts dedicated to their favorite Alabama player, whether it be son, cousin, brother, etc. Tua’s family is no exception, as most of them have on customized “Roll Tua Roll” shirts, mimicking the school's “Roll Tide Roll” mantra, regularly used by Crimson Tide fans.
As the family settles into their seats, Diane takes out her headphones again and places them in her ears. She then proceeds to call Galu Tagovailoa, Tua’s father, and give him an exact play-by-play of the game, from start to finish. Diane said that Galu was unable to make the game due to work-related commitments.
“He only has a certain amount of vacation days,” Diane explains matter-of-factly. “So he wants to save those for the regular season and other games that count more. But he is sad he couldn’t be here with all of us.”
Even though Galu could not be there physically, Diane made sure to do everything in her power to make sure he felt as though he was, only further proving how dedicated they are as a family to seeing their son succeed on the gridiron. In the game, Tua exceeded expectations, throwing 17 completions in 29 attempts, for 313 yards and three touchdowns. Pit up against returning quarterback Jalen Hurts, for a starting QB position, Tua remained calm, collected and confident.
Even though Tua’s White team fell to the Crimson, 27-24, the true freshman made an impression indicating he had a bright future in this game.
Diane Tagovailoa finding and hailing her son, Tua.
"(Diane's) a protector, but she's such a nurturing, loving person. ... That's just who she is, and it's hard to be away from him."
- Lisa Rost-Bailey, a family friend
Editor's note: After this story was published, in May 2017, Tua Tagovailoa spent most of the fall 2017 season as the backup to Alabama's starting quarterback, Jalen Hurts. Only in true storybook fashion, he came off of the bench in the second half of the National Championship game, to lead Alabama to a shocking victory, becoming, as ESPN described it, a "legend."
Diane Tagovailoa and her son, Tua.
"You know, it wasn't just us who raised Tua. We have a whole family, and they all had a part in raising my son to be who he is. ... So we don't want to take all the credit, you know,
because it really does take a village."
​
- Galu Tagovailoa,
Tua's father
After the game, Diane and Taulia led the group of Tua supporters to the athletics center where all the athletes and their families gather for a traditional family-only cookout. As everyone walked up to the building, though, hundreds of people were gathered outside, just hoping to catch a glimpse of a player, a coach, anyone.
Usually, Diane and her family have no trouble slipping in and out of crowds without being noticed. However, this time, the situation was much different. As the Tagovailoas made their way through the crowd, many people turned and stared, some even taking pictures.
One man was brave enough to speak up as he shouted to the family: “I bet I know whose family you are!” A strong southern twang unrolled in his words. The family looked over at him and before they could say anything, he said confidently: “Ya’ll are Tua’s family aren’t ya?” As everyone looked at each other nervously, while the bystander waited for confirmation, Tua’s aunt and Diane’s sister-in-law, Barbara Faavi, spoke for the family. “Yeah, we are,” she answered in a quiet voice with a smile.
The man exclaimed boisterously, ““I knew it! ... I can tell by all the leis y’all got on. That’s a Hawaii thing.” He then went on to say how amazing he thought Tua was and how the family should be so proud. As the conversation ended, the family quickly made their way into the building, hoping to see Tua, relax and eat, weary after a long day in the hot sun.
Upon arriving at the table, the entire family seemed to visibly relax. Diane then made her way to the table next to them to greet Tua’s roommate, Najee Harris’ family. Given the fact that both of their sons are top college football prospects (Harris was the No. 1-rated high school running back in the nation), both families seem to have a lot in common.
Among those was the uprooting of their lives, when both families moved to Alabama just to support their sons, as they pursue NFL dreams in a Crimson Tide uniform.
“I think they’re adjusting well, and I think that people are going to be very receptive toward them here,” Lisa Rost-Bailey, a long-time family friend of the Tagovailoas, said about the family's recent move to the South. “I think that coming all the way from Hawaii and now only being an hour away gives (Diane) a little bit of comfort. And they haven’t missed very many practices, since they’ve been here. They’ve been to almost every one. ... That right there says, ‘I’ve missed my baby, and I don’t want to miss that much more.'”
With the family’s move to Alabama, the Tagovailoas also moved their younger son, Taulia, who is an incoming junior in high school but, at just 16 years old, already holds football scholarship offers from the University of Alabama, Oregon, Hawaii and Florida Atlantic. Tua's two younger sisters, Taylor, 14, and Taysia, 12, also came along for this ride.
Although Taulia’s sudden move from Hawaii to attend high school in Alabama hurt some feelings on Oahu, recruiting reports also speculate that this may be a way to groom him to become a member of the Alabama football family as well.
According to 247’s 2016 statistics, Tua’s recruiting class for the University of Alabama was once again the top-ranked recruiting class in the nation. The Crimson Tide snagged 14 recruits, as well as 12 early enrollees, six of which were "five-star" recruits. Given the fact that Alabama is coming off of two consecutive visits to the National Championship game, one win and one loss, they are trying to establish a relationship with the top-talent Taulia early on as well.
Although it is an exciting time, the family also knows that every perk has its consequences. Known for being an extremely tight-knit family, and having grown up in Ewa Beach their whole life, the Tagovailoa kids talked about how homesickness has gotten the better of them at times.
“I like Alabama. It’s cool I guess,” said Taysia, the youngest of the Tagovailoas. “I like my school and all, but I really miss my family. We used to see them all the time, and now since we moved here, it’s just us.” Taysia finished her thought while picking at a tablecloth. Then, when asked if she knows how popular or good at football her brother is, she smiled and said, “Yeah, but I’ve watched him play football my whole life. So I’m used to it.”
Tua Tagovailoa threw for 313 yards and three touchdowns in the 2017 Alabama Spring Game.
​
In-game images, courtesy of: Sam MacDonald and Jake Stevens / Crimson White.
As Taysia finishes her thought, the energy in the room shifts toward Tua, as he comes out to greet his family. They all stand up and share hugs and kisses, followed by lots of leis and laughing. As they congratulate him on his game, they all share another group hug and return to the table to talk story. However, Tua is stopped short due to the orderly queue that formed as he was talking to his family.
The line is made up of his fellow players’ families, ranging from 9-year-old girls and boys to full grown men in their 50s, all wanting the same thing: a picture with the famous Tua. Unable to escape his polite nature and upbringing, Tua takes pictures with everyone (and when I say everyone, I mean everyone). In fact, he took pictures for so long, the food was being cleared away before he even got a chance to make a plate. His Auntie Barbara, thinking ahead, though, made him a plate while he completed his informal meet-and-greet with the entire room.
Diane then tells her son to come sit and eat before his food gets cold, a command he immediately follows. As he sits down, he starts to engulf his food as if it will disappear within the next few seconds, clearly an appetite built up by playing a sport for the past two hours. As he scarfs down his plate, he turns to his uncle and Taulia saying, “My phone is blowing up right now, you like see?,” with his pidgin accent prominent.
After dinner, the family makes their way out of the building, taking their time to avoid the Alabama rain that suddenly started to pour. As I walk with Diane, marveling at the endless number of fans that approach her son and family, she looks just as shocked as I do.
“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy. I was shopping with my family in Dick’s Sporting Goods yesterday, you know just looking for stuff for Tua and Taulia, and Tua just stopped randomly and said, ‘Mom, I’m really gonna miss this.’ And I said, ‘Miss what, son?’ And he said, ‘I’m really gonna miss being able to walk into a store and not be recognized. Because after tomorrow, I’m never gonna get that back again.'”
Diane Tagovailoa sharing time with her son, Tua.
As she finishes her thought, she looks a little sad at the loss of normalcy for her barely 18-year-old son. “It’s not that my sons don’t appreciate the attention and aren’t grateful, it’s just that sometimes they get uncomfortable because they aren’t used to it. They’re still so young, but they get that it comes with all of this,” she finishes, clearly not just referring to their physical surroundings, but to all the attention that comes with being two of the most sought-after collegiate athletes in the nation.
At the conclusion of dinner, the Tagovailoas migrate to Tua’s dorm room in order to partake in a tradition they have, and arguably the most Samoan of cultural practices: a jam session. As the family files, one by one, into his living room, grabbing a seat wherever they can, the guitar is passed to Tua. A huge sticker that reads “TUA TAGOVAILOA” is stuck to the belly of the instrument.
As the family gets comfortable in the leather seats, on the carpet, or even standing, Tua strums absentmindedly, playing a soft melody. As the family talks amongst themselves, and he plays the guitar, Tua gazes around the room, gently smiling and chiming in on conversations here and there.
Before he was Tua Tagovailoa, Alabama quarterback, he was just Tua, a kid from Ewa Beach, Hawaii. Sitting on that couch, the look on his face and the visible relaxation in his shoulders shows that this is where he is most comfortable, in a circle of his most-trusted and loving family members. These are the people who have known him his whole life, as he relaxes in his "slippahs" and enjoys the music.
Diane interrupts his train of thought to announce to the group: “Tua is going to sing lead this time, since Taulia is in the bathroom.” She smirks at him, as if this is an inside joke and everyone laughs. His head snaps up, and he looks at his mom through narrowed eyes as he sucks his teeth, “I’m always lead singer, he says. "I’m the lead singer of lead singers.”
As everyone bursts into laughter at his retort, Diane leans over and adds, jokingly, “No he’s not. Taulia is a way better singer.” With such gentle ribbing and jokes being exchanged, it’s clear that the entire family is getting comfortable in this new environment, too. Regardless of the fame and media attention the family likely will get in the coming years, the loving, supportive unit they’ve established – with strong cultural ties, rooted in faith – constantly reminds them that family comes first.
The guitar is eventually passed to Diane’s brother, who takes the lead on initiating which songs come next, and the set list seems endless. From multiple traditional Samoan church songs to “Want You Back” by the Jackson 5, the Tagovailoas harmonize and sway along to so many melodies, the time passes quickly and before they know it, an hour has passed.
“Do you guys get together like this all the time?” Najee Harris’ mom, Tianna Hicks, asks. Diane grins widely at her and says proudly, “Oh yeah, normally after every game. It’s our tradition.”
Many songs and forgotten lyrics later, Diane requests to close the night out in prayer before the family departs, as a way to let Tua enjoy a night with his fellow teammates celebrating their spring game. But before she prays, she gives a tearful speech about how grateful she is for her family and their willingness to come all the way out to Alabama, just to watch and support her son.
“I cannot thank our families and our friends enough for joining us here this week," she prayed. "That’s a huge sacrifice not only for us but for all of you to make it out here financially, some of you took off work, just to be here and celebrate with us ... Everything (that’s happened) throughout this entire process are all victories. No matter what the stats say, no matter what the media says, these are all victories, and we’re so appreciative of each and every one of you.”
