The Aloha Spirit
Cole McDonald and Tom Hager
In partnership with Athletes For God
“Are you ready champ?”
After waiting nearly two years for this moment, it was finally here. There I was, standing in the tunnel at Colorado State’s stadium, getting ready for the first start of my college career. We were entering the game as 17.5 point underdogs, but here was our team chaplain, Gregg Tipton, pumping me up.
“I’ve been ready for this,” I responded, because it was true. In many ways, this moment wasn’t the culmination of a two-year wait. This moment had been several years in the making - one that had tested my faith and my patience. But as I would have told you that night, and as I would still tell you today, God has a way of pulling you through.
Even when the journey is longer and more difficult than you anticipated.
For those who don’t know me, my name is Cole McDonald and I am the quarterback at the University of Hawaii. Last season was a dream come true for me, but it was only a few years ago I wondered if I would get a chance to show I could play.
When I chose to play at Sonora High School in La Habra, California, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. My cousin went there and had a great experience at the school, and convinced me that I would love it too, but Sonora wasn’t known for football. And as I soon found out, your school’s reputation is almost everything when it comes to recruiting.
I landed the starting quarterback position as a sophomore, but that didn’t raise any eyebrows on the recruiting circuit. College coaches were more interested in the name on the front of my high school jersey than what my film looked like. If your school had produced other elite athletes in the past, that was somehow supposed to reflect what your career would look like in college.
Of course, that doesn’t really open the door for someone to be the first athlete to come out of their school. La Habra is one of those little towns that people don’t recognize, so you have to give directions to it. A 40 minute drive north of Disneyland, or 90 minutes east of downtown LA.
And a million miles away from a scholarship.
As a kid growing up in Southern California, I had dreams of being the next star quarterback at USC...I had watched Carson Palmer, Matt Leinart, Mark Sanchez, John David Booty and Matt Barkley all have success, and I wanted to be the next one in line. But by the end of my senior year I was no closer to a scholarship with USC than on my first day of practice as a sophomore.
I had a lot of late nights back then, losing sleep over my future. I would sign up for these quarterback camps and play 7-on-7 football with other elite players, but as I later found out, the coaches would go there with a select few guys in mind that they wanted to see. Unless you were lighting up the opposing defenses, they weren’t even really noticing you. Or at least willing to take a chance on you.
The waiting began to take its toll, and I started comparing myself to all these other guys getting scholarships, but I never lost my belief in myself or my belief in God. I would read the verse from Isaiah 40:39, which talked about staying strong in the midst of adversity.
“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength,” it said. “They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
I needed to keep praising God in the rough times, because just around the corner was the phone call that would change my life.
By the time signing day had arrived, I had made peace with the fact I wasn’t going to a Division 1 school.
Of course, I wasn’t heading to a D2 or D3 school either. I was heading off to junior college. Or at least that was the plan until my phone began to ring.
At 3 a.m.
I was actually still up, working on a school project, and I decided to pick up the phone. On the other end was Nick Rolovich, the head coach here at Hawaii. But he wasn’t calling with a scholarship offer. He was calling me to let me know he was thinking about it.
“I’m not sure if I want to offer you yet,” he told me. “I’ll call you back.”
I started freaking out. I had been chasing after this dream for years, going from one game and one camp to another looking for a shot, and now it was finally within reach. It was halfway across the Pacific Ocean, and I didn’t even know their record from the previous year, but I didn’t care.
If Nick was going to take a chance on me, I was going to take a chance on him.
So the phone rang a second time. And then a third. Each time he called just to tell me he’s watching my film one more time before hanging up. It almost felt like a mental game, like he wanted to see how I would handle the anxiety.
He must have liked what he heard - or what he saw - because on the fourth call he let me know that he was offering me a scholarship.
I was going to be a Warrior.
When I committed I felt like it wasn’t just Nick taking a chance on me. It felt like the entire state was taking a chance on me too. And whether they lived on the Big Island or the North Shore or here on campus, I wanted to show them that I didn’t take the scholarship for granted.
When people talk about the Aloha Spirit, it’s real. It might sound like a cliche from the outside, but when you live here and you see how much people embrace you, it’s incredible. In Southern California we have 9 pro sports teams and two Pac-12 schools, but in Hawaii, this is it. We’re their team. And when you play here, you quickly realize it.
Whether I’m at the grocery store, or just at the drive-thru at Zippy’s, people recognize me. They tell me how excited they are about the team, and how happy they are for me. The relationship between our team and this state is close, but that dynamic was taken to a whole different level last year. It wasn’t just because we won 8 games...it was because the people here suffered through not just one but two natural disasters.
But as only God can, He took a horrible situation and used it to bring us closer together.
The Hawaiian Islands formed long ago as the result of volcanoes erupting underneath the ocean, but you don’t actually think a big eruption is going to occur when you live here.
Volcanic eruptions aren’t a big headline - there’s even a National Park on the Big Island that allows people to experience the volcanoes up close. What isn’t normal, however, is what happened last May, when nearly 700 homes were destroyed and 2,000 people were evacuated.
The eruptions were devastating for the residents, and just when it seemed like people were putting their lives back together, Hurricane Lane hit.
I wasn’t on the island when the hurricane made landfall, because our team left for its season opener a few days earlier than scheduled. And from the safety of our hotel in Fort Collins, Colorado, we watched in horror as the tropical storm turned into a Category 5 hurricane.
The islands were spared the worst of the storm, but we saw the images as landslides and floods caused $250 million worth of damage. One man also tragically lost his life.
We were more than 3,000 miles away from home, but we knew we needed to do something. So our athletic department came up with the coolest helmet design I’ve ever seen: the map of our state would go on the left side of our helmet.
So when Gregg Tipton asked me “Are you ready champ?” it didn’t feel like I was just answering for myself. I was there to represent the whole state of Hawaii.The funny thing was when Hurricane Lane was just forming a few hundred miles away from our shores, I still didn’t know if I would even be the starter. I had sat the previous season behind our quarterback Dru Brown, who had thrown for 37 touchdowns and just 15 interceptions over the previous two years. Sitting behind Dru was a challenge for me, because it tested my humility and whether I could be happy for somebody else’s success.
If I’m being honest, some days were easier than others, but during the 2017 season God made me a better teammate. And Dru made it easier on me by being a disciple of Christ himself.
So with all the chaos going on back home and all the uncertainty weighing on me if I would even play, I just trusted in God that everything would turn out okay. Coach Rolovich gave me the nod a few days before the opener and with the knowledge that this was bigger than just a football game, I put on that helmet and ran out of that tunnel.
What happened next was a dream come true.
After all the buildup to the game, I actually began my first start by moving us backwards five yards.
With nine months to prepare for our first play of the season, we actually started the game with a delay of game penalty. But just like our journey with God, sports isn’t about how you start - it’s about how you finish. We started to drive down the field, and actually got to the CSU 4-yard before the drive appeared to stall. On most opening drives, teams would take the 3 points to get an early lead. But that’s not what Rolo wanted.
We had over a million people back home who needed inspiration, and we were there to win. So Coach rolled the dice and called for me to fire a pass to John Ursua up the middle. John pulled it in, and just like that we were up 7-0.
Even after CSU responded with a touchdown to tie it up, our offense was just getting started. We came back with a field goal to go up 10-7, and then after our defense came up with an interception, we started to drive again. We had a 1st & 10 at the Rams 12-yard line when I got the call for me to take the snap and run. A lot of coaches don’t want their quarterback running outside the pocket, but Nick Rolovich isn’t that kind of coach. And I’m not that kind of quarterback.
Sure enough, it was the perfect call, and I made it to the 2-yard line before three defenders came running at me. But I found just enough space to dive between them for the touchdown. Now it was 16-7, and we were just getting started. With 31 seconds left in the half and our offense at the CSU-five yard line, I got the call for another run play. This time there was nobody even close to me, and I ran in untouched for the 23-7 lead.
By the time I hit Cedric Byrd for a wide-open 45-yard score, we were up 37-7...the team that had come in as 17.5 point underdogs was blowing the game open.
The special helmets were supposed to just be for one game, but our players unanimously wanted to keep them around. And so with each passing week with the islands on our helmets, we continued to flourish. We were supposed to lose to Navy the next week, and beat them 59-41. We then beat Rice 43-29, and then after our first loss of the season to Army, we came right back and beat Duquesne 42-21.
Our next game, against San Jose State, was probably the best game of all. And the most painful.
On one particular play in the first quarter, I probably took the hardest hit I’ve ever experienced in my life. As I was scrambling for a first down, I was hit by two guys who were coming at me from different directions. I immediately went down, and when I tried to get up, I could tell I had tunnel vision. In fact, one of the guys who hit me was injured too, and as the referees called for a tv timeout, I went over to coach Rolo.
“Hey coach, do not give me the ball,” I said. “Let me hand the ball off or an easy throw because I’m in pain right now.”
The problem was we still had more than three quarters to go, and I couldn’t just hand the ball off the rest of the game. So I continued to play through the pain. The only thing was that this game didn’t last four quarters.
This game lasted 5 OTs - which was tied for the 5th longest game in the history of college football. I could feel the pain in every step I took and every throw I made, but I hung in there. So did our team.
We scored a touchdown to start overtime, only to see SJSU come back with a touchdown of their own to force a second OT. We then traded punch for punch, stop for stop, field goal for field goal, for three more overtimes. And then in the 5th OT we showed what Warriors are all about. We had to settle for a field goal to go up 44-41, and at that point our team would have been happy if we could force a 6th OT. San Jose State was starting from our 25-yard line with a chance to win the game, but our defense held strong.
Instead of giving up any ground, they actually pushed the Spartans back five yards to force a 47-yard kick. I watched from the sideline as the kick sailed wide right, and in that moment the pain didn’t seem so bad. The team who was expected to finish 5th out of 6 teams in our division was now 5-1, and a week later would become 6-1.
And I say this not to brag, but to show God’s glory...the same quarterback who couldn’t find any offers to play D1 football was now leading the country in passing. With all credit going to God, through the first six games I had thrown for 2,100 yards and 24 touchdowns with just two interceptions.
But as I soon found out, God has a way of keeping us humble.
I’ve taken my fair share of hits over the years, but as we took the plane ride back from San Jose, I could tell that the pain I was feeling wasn’t normal. I tried to sleep it off, but the G-force from the flight only made things worse. Within a few hours of landing I was calling our trainer.
“My side is killing me,” I said as I looked at the swelling. It was then that I was told to head over to the Emergency Room.
And there in the ER the doctors told me what was going on...I was internally bleeding.
I sat out the next game against Wyoming, which we won 17-13, but when I came back the following week I wasn’t the same. I played well below my potential for each of the next four games, and we lost all of them. In one month we went from being 6-1 to 6-5, and I started to hear about it from people on social media.
Some people started to direct message me on Twitter, to remind me how bad I was playing. I could pretend it didn’t hurt, but it does. It hurts to see people react to your struggles like that. But the Bible talks about turning the other cheek, so I actually decided to message them back to say that I’ll try my best to turn it around the next game.
But my experience on social media has actually been overwhelmingly positive. I have my Twitter set up so that people can dm me, and the vast majority of the messages I receive are full of encouragement and support. I get messages all the time from kids who look up to me, or are looking for advice or help. And I respond to every single one.
I know how much it would have meant for me as a kid to see Matt Leinart write to me, and I hope that I’m leaving a similar impact with these kids. So if you’re a young athlete and you ever want to write me a message, my Twitter is here.
We won our next game to move to 7-5, and then in our regular season finale, after all the ups and downs throughout the year, I had my best game yet. I threw for 452 yards and 3 touchdowns with no picks, and more importantly, our team won 31-30 in overtime against San Diego State. That win gave us an 8-5 record and set us up to play in the Hawaii Bowl in front of our home fans.
It was supposed to be a perfect ending to the season, but our first three drives all resulted in 3 & outs. Three drives, nine plays, and three punts. And when our offense took the field for our fourth drive, coach Rolo told me to stay on the sideline.
It was really difficult to be benched, and even though I got back in the game a few drives later, it was still tough to end our season with a 31-14 loss. I have a few months to go before our season opener next year, and there’s no guarantee I’ll be out there with the starters when our team takes the field, but my identity goes beyond football. I don’t define myself by being the starting quarterback at UH. My identity is in being a child of God.
When my career at Hawaii is over, I don’t want people to remember how many touchdowns I threw here. I want people to remember the way I treated others, because as I found out a year ago, you never know how long you’ll have on this Earth.
At a little past 8 a.m. last January, I woke up to Dru Brown shaking me out of bed.
He told me a missile was heading towards us, and we needed to take shelter. This wasn’t a dream, this was real life, and the notification on Dru’s phone was proof.
“BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”
We desperately ran out of our apartment, but I knew that if a nuclear bomb was heading towards Oahu, this was probably going to be the last day of my life. So I did what a lot of people would do...I called my parents to tell them I love them.
They didn’t answer the phone, so I left a message telling them how I feel about them. I called my brother to tell him the same thing.
Minutes later we got a notification that the news had been a false alert, and there was no missile heading our way, but it served as an important reminder anyway. I needed to tell people how much they mean to me, and more importantly, I needed to let my actions show it.
And that doesn’t just go for people either. I hope my actions show God how much I love Him as well.
Sharing my faith is not always easy for me to do, especially in a football culture where there are a lot of alpha personalities. But there are a lot of us on the team who follow Christ, and I hope that my teammates can see that faith in me. And if you get a message back from me on Twitter, I hope you can see it too.
Aloha in Hawaii isn’t just hello, it’s also goodbye. So even though you might not see me on a field until August, you know where to reach me.
Images courtesy of Hawaii Athletics