Remembering Mosi

It’s been a cold week for NFL runningbacks. After years of service, both San Diego’s LaDanian Tomlinson and Philadelphia’s Brian Westbrook were unceremoniously cut by their respective teams.

Tomlinson and Westbrook combined for 18,485 yards rushing and 175 touchdowns on the ground, but were shown no appreciation for years of hard work.

But if you think they had it tough, name the fullbacks that cleared the path for Tomlinson and Westbrook during the prime of their careers.

If you named more than just Lorenzo Neal with San Diego, you’re doing great. Fullbacks play in the shadows of stars even though the runningbacks follow in the footsteps of their obscure security escort. Only if the fullback becomes synonymous with the halfback do they get a piece of the limelight: Emmitt Smith and Darryl Johnston; Roger Craig and Tom Rathman. Otherwise fullbacks are treated as dispensable and easily replaced.

It was a fate expected for Mosi Tatupu, a fullback drafted in the eighth round of the 1978 NFL Draft by the New England Patriots. He was a professional wingman, enabling the runningbacks to cut through the crowd and shine while getting lost among the big uglies.

But for 13 years, as the Patriots tried over and over to find a star to play the leading role in the backfield, Tatupu kept barreling his way through defenders, doing his best supporting actor year in and year out. Thanks to his toughness and consistency, he developed a following, Mosi’s Mooses, for his play as a fullback, short yardage specialist, and special teamer.

Tatupu’s rookie season was historic as the Patriots set an NFL record with 3,165 yards rushing. He doesn’t deserve all the credit, but he played a role in it. It’s not just a coincidence that eight times during his career with the Pats the team rushed for more than 2,000 yards. To put it in perspective, New England eclipsed 2K three times before Tatupu, and twice after.

New England did this with a revolving door at running back. Tatupu cleared the way for five different leading rushers (Sam Cunningham, Vegas Ferguson, Tony Collins, Craig James, John Stephens) and at least 26 runningbacks with the Patriots. Being the constant in the backfield helped the fans become attached to Mosi.

On top of his blocking and short yardage work, Tatupu was a demon on special teams. He was voted to the Pro Bowl in 1986, the first Patriot selected for special teams.

But what endeared Tatupu to the fans was his down to earth nature. He was one of them instead of a football player. Tatupu’s blue collar approach to the game was very much like the fans that supported him – he did his job without fanfare and Tatupu did it with a smile.

About that smile. Tatupu seemingly is known more for that than the “30” he wore or the half circle of hair between his helmet and shoulder pads. Tatupu’s Cheshire Cat-like grin brightened a room. It was a sight to see his pearly whites under the shade of his moustache. If Tatupu preceded Pat Patriot, you’d swear the grin of the minuteman in a three-point stance was modeled after Mosi’s mile-wide smile. Just add a ‘stache and Pat is Mosi’s mirror image with less hair.

That smile became history as Tatupu passed away on February 24. The Patriots lost a fan favorite. It’s not easy to quantify Tatupu’s value as a player because he doesn’t have eye-popping stats, nor is there a prolific back that owes much of his success to Tatupu.

But by being effective for 13 years with one team, Mosi made a name for himself as the names he blocked for changed. Tatupu never was a star player. But Mosi Tatupu won’t be forgotten.

Rest, in Peace, Mosi. Always a Patriot.

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