"No matter how good your résumé looks, you've got to earn your respect here," Seau said yesterday. "It's ongoing. You can't talk about what you did. You've got to shut your mouth and prove it to them.
"Every day is a challenge. When I came here, I couldn't worry about what anyone thought. I couldn't allow myself to get frustrated by not being part of the inner circle."
Seau was well beyond trying to impress anyone. He was neither reticent nor overbearing, and went about his business as he had the previous 16 seasons. He figured that would answer any and all questions.
It did - almost.
"For me, the first thing I had to do was figure out what 'buddy' meant," said Bruschi. "When Junior got here, he went around calling everybody 'buddy.' I wasn't sure if it was a term of affection or something else. I'm looking at him wondering, 'Does he call me buddy because he likes me, or because he doesn't know my name?' I know he's met a lot of people in his life, but come on."
As Bruschi would soon learn, that's how Junior Seau drew people in. Everyone was "buddy" - the linebackers, the quarterback, the kid who cleaned the towels in the locker room. His old friend from the Chargers, Rodney Harrison, assured his teammates Seau believed in all the same things they did.
"Junior is just a leader," Harrison explained. "He can get along with anybody. He doesn't want any trouble. He's not out to steal anyone's glory. When you work hard and do the right thing all the time, people tend to look up to you. How can you not?"
Harrison remembers the moment that firmly entrenched him in Seau's camp forever. It was in the mid-'90s and the Chargers were playing the Seahawks, and Seau went down in a heap, grabbing his knee.
"They carted him off the field," Harrison said. "That was it. We thought it was over.
"Five minutes later, he comes running back on the field and sacks the quarterback."
