Junior Seau The life and death of a football icon

Review by Booklist Review

In January 2015, linebacker Junior Seau was voted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He did not attend the ceremony. Seau committed suicide in 2012 at age 43. Later, studies of his brain revealed he was suffering from chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE). It's very likely that his condition contributed to his suicide, but there's no doubt it brought a laser focus to the issue of brain damage as a result of playing football. Trotter, who covers the NFL for ESPN, tells a difficult story and tells it well. In addition to the challenge of writing about a young man's suicide without becoming maudlin, Trotter had to overcome trust issues with different branches of Seau's family who were estranged from one another. Complicating matters further was Seau himself: adored by the public but dealing with both alcohol and family troubles at the time of his suicide. While acknowledging that it is impossible to know for sure if CTE exacerbated Seau's personal issues, Trotter makes a strong case that the condition can alter behavior in ways not yet fully understood. This is a powerful, thought-provoking account, handled with grace and sensitivity, of a superior football player's life and death.--Lukowsky, Wes Copyright 2015 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Despite the significant concussion discussion that ensued following the suicide of Junior Seau, a 2015 Pro Football Hall of Fame inductee, the first posthumous biography of the athlete notably lacks details on head injuries. The former linebacker committed suicide in 2012 at the age of 43; his family later sued the National Football League, alleging that the NFL concealed from players the dangers of football-related brain trauma. ESPN football writer Trotter, who covered Seau's career and developed a professional and personal relationship with him, states that Seau, who played 268 NFL games over 20 seasons, was not once diagnosed with a concussion. Seau, born Tiaina Baul Seau Jr., grew up poor in San Diego County, Calif., and spent the majority of his NFL years with the hometown Chargers. He was universally considered one of the league's nicest guys. But a series of poor post-retirement business decisions, excessive partying and addictions, and a self-perceived inability to love others set Seau on a path of destruction that ultimately led to his demise. Trotter interviewed many of Seau's family members and friends, who here break their silence for the first time since his death. He also extensively quotes former NFL teammate Rodney Harrison, who blames a small group of enablers for not encouraging Seau to seek help when he needed it most. (Oct.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Library Journal Review

Trotter, a popular NFL reporter for ESPN and Sports Illustrated, began his career writing for the San Diego Union-Tribune, where he got to know San Diego Chargers linebacker Junior Seau (1969-2012) while serving as a beat writer for the Chargers. Seau experienced a tragic life. Perhaps the greatest linebacker of his generation, he was a hard-working team player with a buoyant personality who was loved and respected by both teammates and opponents throughout his 20-year NFL career. However, his life had a dark side. So much of his identity was tied to football that one coach presciently remarked early in Seau's career, "It's not going to end well for this guy." As the years went on, the problems grew: drinking, gambling, womanizing, poor investing, and the physical toll of playing professional football. Trotter, utilizing his relationship with Seau, interviewed family, friends, teammates, coaches, ex-wives, former girlfriends, and even the athlete's children. What emerges is a sensitive, honest portrayal of a man in crisis who could see no way out of his worldly problems except suicide. VERDICT This frank biography of a football hero should appeal to a wide audience. John Maxymuk is Head of Public Services at Rutgers University's Paul Robeson Library, Camden, NJ. He is a longtime sports reviewer for LJ and the author of NFL Head Coaches: A Biographical Dictionary, ~ 1920-2011 (McFarland, 2012) © Copyright 2015. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

ESPN NFL reporter Trotter debuts with a very sympathetic account of the life of NFL Hall of Fame linebacker Junior Seau (1969-2012). The author has few negative things to say in this highly conventional biographyeven the linebacker's arrest for domestic abuse in 2010 receives a walking-on-eggshells treatment. The author begins by observing, "we don't really know our athletic heroes," and proceeds to show us many of Seau's hidden facets, although a number of key individuals (his partying buddies) declined to be interviewed. Trotter gives us details about Seau's Samoan heritage and then takes us through his school days (with a 3.6 academic average in high school, he could not manage a decent score on the SAT), his athletic dominance at all levels, his ferocious work ethic, and his determination to play with pain. We also learn about his family lifewomanizing, partying, and gambling eventually caused numerous estrangementsand his financial collapse after he retired. Trotter shows us a player honored by his high school, college, and pro teammates, coaches, and fans. He was deeply respected not just for his athletic gifts, but also for his sense of humor and his leadership. The author doesn't give too many detailed accounts of gamesjust key plays and moments. He also pauses occasionally to expatiate on head injuries, alcoholism, drug use, and, of course, evanescent fame. Unfortunately, the author falls victim too often to clich ("Fear was not in his vocabulary"; "he won her heart with his kindness"; "His star could not have been brighter"). Deeply invested in Seau's sad story, Trotter also overstates the effect of his suicide in 2012, observing that sadness swept the land. Although the text benefits from the author's deep knowledge of the gameand from many important interviewsexcessive sentiment corrodes. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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1 "I Have to Be Better Than Me"   IT'S EARLY MARCH, and the sun is just beginning to rise over Oceanside, California, a coastal town 45 minutes north of San Diego. Dew is on the grass and a chill is in the air when Sai Niu arrives at the school bus stop at six o'clock. His body is awake only in the sense that his eyes are open.   As he prepares to board the bus, he notices someone running sprints on an adjacent field. He squints through the dim light and walks around the back of the bus to get a closer look. Soon, he realizes it's Junior--or Bug, as he is known to family and close friends.   The classmates exchange handshakes and small talk. They're entering the spring of their junior year at Oceanside High, but already their minds are thinking ahead to the fall and winter, when they will lead the Pirates' varsity football and basketball teams for the second straight year. Junior invites Niu to join him for an early-morning workout later in the week. When the running back/point guard arrives two days later at five o'clock, Junior is waiting for him.   They stretch briefly, then begin running . . . and running . . . and running. Niu thinks he is prepared, but he isn't. His first workout with Junior turns out to be his last. "After that," Niu said of that 1986 morning, "every time the bus would come and I'd see him over there, I made it a point to walk in the opposite direction. Bug would be out there like clockwork. He was one of the hardest-working people I've ever known."   Junior lived in a three-bedroom bungalow where he and three brothers slept in a converted one-car garage that served as his gym as well as his bedroom. On most mornings he'd rise before the sun crept over the coast and exercise until his body was drenched in sweat and his muscles twitched from fatigue. He'd do push-ups and sit-ups on the cement floor, pull-ups on a tree branch in the backyard. He used the neighborhood streets as his personal track.   While running one afternoon, he passed the home of a cousin, who was seated on the front porch. Fifteen minutes later he passed the house again, moving in the opposite direction. The cousin didn't think much of it; Junior was always running. But when the youngster passed the home a third time, the cousin shook his head and laughed. "Man, that kid's crazy," he said to a friend. "But he's going to go somewhere."   The words were prescient. Nearly a decade later, Bug's journey took him to the Super Bowl, where he played on the grandest stage in professional sports. A decade after that, it took him to the White House, where President George W. Bush honored him as a "Volunteer of the Year" for his work with at-risk kids in San Diego County. And in 2015, it took him to Canton, Ohio, where he became the first player of Polynesian descent to be inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame.   But to fully appreciate just how far he traveled, literally and figuratively, you must understand where his journey began.       Oceanside is the third-largest city in San Diego County, yet it often is overshadowed by smaller coastal municipalities to the south, like Carlsbad, Encinitas, La Jolla, and Coronado. Those communities are held up as symbols of affluence and privilege when people talk about the beauty of the region. Oceanside is known as the gritty military town on the southern border of Camp Pendleton, the 125,000-acre Marine Corps training facility that's the largest on the West Coast. It's the dirt-covered stone that has yet to be buffed and polished into a priceless gem, three and a half miles of coastline that's as unpretentious as it is gorgeous.   The Seaus did not live close enough to the water to taste the salt in the air. They lived inland, where gangs and drugs and small, overcrowded bungalows were prevalent. Community members referred to it as East Side; while it could be intimidating to outsiders, many locals found comfort there because it was what they knew. Some 1,400 People of Samoan descent resided in the area in 2000, making it one of the largest concentrations of Polynesians in the United States, according to that year's census.   Tiaina Seau and his wife, Luisa, grew up on American Samoa--Luisa in Pago Pago, Tiaina in the much smaller village of Nu'uuli--but they didn't meet until both were in Hawaii, where Luisa was attending school and Tiaina was searching for work. They fell in love, married, and started a family, but thoughts of settling there dissipated quickly after son David was born with a hole in his lung.   The parents were told that David could receive specialized medical care in San Diego, where Tiaina had a sister, so the family packed its belongings and relocated. They spent two years in San Diego before moving 45 minutes north to Oceanside. The change in address stemmed from Tiaina's desire to reduce his commute. He had found work at a rubber factory in San Clemente, and the 90-minute drive in one direction from San Diego was wearing on him. By moving to Oceanside, he could cut the commute in half.   The family settled on Zeiss Street, where children Savaii, Annette, Tiaina, and Antonio joined David and Mary. The baby of the bunch from 1969 to '76 was Tiaina, otherwise known as Junior. Interestingly, he wasn't a true junior. Both his father and his grandfather had the same given name, making him a Tiaina III, but everyone called him Junior to differentiate him from his dad. His mother tended to call him Pepe, which is Samoan for baby.   There's a long-accepted story that the Seau family went back to American Samoa for several years after Junior was born, then returned to Oceanside. It also claims that Junior didn't learn English until he was seven. Neither is true. Junior's first trip to American Samoa didn't come until after his third year of high school. When his family occasionally asked him to set the record straight, he'd shrug and say: "Let 'em run with it. Makes for a better story."   Junior loved to prank people, and rewriting his family history spoke to that. While in college he told a reporter: "I was five years old and couldn't speak English when we came here. But my dad wanted to raise us in America so we could have a chance to go to college."   He was a handful even as a young child, unable to sit still for long stretches and always searching for the next adventure. Mary, the oldest of his two sisters, often had to babysit him while their parents were at work. When his mischievousness would wear her down, she'd allow him to go outside alone, which could be problematic because he tended to stray as far as his feet and his curiosity could take him. No one was overly worried, though, because the 1970s were a more innocent time. Most everyone on the block knew each other, and there was a sense of shared responsibility when it came to watching over the children.   But Junior wasn't the type who needed to be protected from others--he needed to be protected from himself. He'd get into anything and everything. Fear was not in his vocabulary. Once, he and some friends found a mattress in the backyard of an empty house and moved it to the front yard, where they took turns jumping off the roof onto the covered coils. When he did get caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, he had a knack for talking his way out of trouble, something that continued well into adulthood. Oftentimes Mary would find herself in the middle of things.   "When we were young, the boys would build their own go-cart," she said. "They would take the wheels off the grocery carts that people would push into the canyon and use the lumber from the backyard that Dad had purchased to add a kitchen on the back of the house. They knew Dad would be mad when he got home, so they'd ask me to say I was the one who did it. I wouldn't get in trouble because I was a girl, so everything that the boys did they blamed it on me."   Typically, one of their mother's first questions upon arriving home from work was, "Where's Pepe? Where's Pepe?" followed by, "Did he eat? Did he eat?" Junior knew if he told his mom he hadn't eaten--and often he hadn't, because he was busy playing--Mary would get into trouble. So he would lie and then blackmail Mary to get his way later. Excerpted from Junior Seau: The Life and Death of a Football Icon by Jim Trotter All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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