Honolulu, Hawaii is a special type of quaint. Lost deep in the heart of the Pacific, it’s a land of passionate natives, naive tourists, and youngsters with big pride and bigger dreams.
Locals hold their own as lore, never letting one go, no matter where their travels may take them. Once a Hawaiian, always a Hawaiian. The pride is returned by those who leave, as they wear their culture on their figurative sleeve, ready to bleed their Poly blood in the moment it needs to.
They are fiercely protective. The Hawaiian roots run so deep, so effortlessly for those who remain, that a constant battle for respect ensues.
They hold onto their own. But now, one local prodigy, forever embodied in the lore of college football, will have to be shared.
Because Marcus Mariota won more than the Heisman on Saturday night. He won immortality.
He won the right be to called “Ours.” Whether you’re an Oregonian, an Oregon fan, both, or someone who simply appreciates people who do things the correct way, Mariota is now ours. He’s the shining star littered in a world of gray. He’s the beginning and the end to the conversation of what collegiate athletics should be. He’s an all-american, all-student, all-role model, all-everything.
He’s the man you dream your son could be and the one you pray your daughter says is The One. He’s all that and it’s real, shed free of phoniness.
Mariota, a redshirt junior, returned this season, passing up guaranteed millions. As for why, he gave the answers you expected: he wanted to improve, to be with his teammates, to enjoy college. He gave answers that were expected.
Then, he went out and outdid himself in every way.
It’s no surprise that he brought home the first ever Heisman to the University of Oregon. His talents have 
been clear from the moment he took off 80 yards in a spring game in 2012. It’s also no surprise that he accepted his accomplishments with as much grace and dignity as you could ever ask from a kid who is barely old enough to sip an adult beverage.
The surprise comes from how rare it seems to be.
Chris Fowler made a point throughout the broadcast to highlight the high character of all three nominees. And I’m sure he’s correct. There didn’t seem to be a bad apple amongst the bunch. But Mariota just seems to be cut from different cloth. His shyness can make him seem off-putting; the sly smile can give off hints of arrogance. But to those who know him, and those who choose to share, there simply is no kid out there — and yes, he’s still a kid — who can better represent a school, a community, and a heritage, like Mariota can.
He referenced that heritage numerous times Saturday night, both during the build-up and in the acceptance. It came between sniffles, as the tears came faster than words. Those tears beget ones from his head coach, Mark Helfrich, who has seen him grow from an unknown high schooler, too shy to speak, to standing amongst giants, all hanging on every word he said.
He referenced his heritage with pride, honor, and an understanding that he is now more. He’s no longer Marcus Mariota, laid-back Polynesian. Now, he’s Marcus Mariota, Heisman winner.
Hawaiian.
Oregonian.
Legend.
But he won’t change. It’s not in his nature; it’s not how his people do it. He’s different from winners in the past. He’s humble, appreciative, unique.
He’s the ambassador for a school, and for a small group of people, in a small island out on the middle of the ocean, who will undoubtedly claim them as their own.
He is theirs. And now, for forever more, he will be ours as well.
Gunderson Sports 