Atonio Mafi NFL draft diary: After my dad's illness, I can't wait to treat my parents

As offensive lineman Atonio Mafi transitions from UCLA to the NFL, he is sharing his journey with Times staff writer Ben Bolch through a weekly diary leading up to the April 27 draft. This week, Mafi discusses his father’s overcoming a serious illness and what he wants to buy his family once he makes the NFL.

Hearing your dad is seriously ill is about the worst news you can get.

My dad means everything to me. He’s my best friend. I have pictures of him when he was younger and I look exactly like him, just a lot bigger.

Peter Mafi played rugby for the Tongan national team and was so sturdy he was known as the Tongan Steel. He calls me Little Steel, referencing my nickname this month when he texted before pro day.

“Go out there, Little Steel,” he wrote.

“I got you,” I replied.

I found out he was sick last summer, right before the start of fall camp. Time kind of froze when we spoke on the phone. I felt so helpless, especially since he was back home in the Bay Area and I was at UCLA trying to get ready for my final season of college football. It was a tough few weeks.

Dad told me God had a plan and that I couldn’t help him worrying. He said to relax and focus on football. It wasn’t always that easy. I had a few crying sessions, but thankfully I had a great support system at school to help me get through it.

I told my boys on the team right away because I knew they could help me feel better. Josh Carlin, Siale Taupaki and Tyler Manoa were really there for me and Tim Drevno, my offensive line coach, kept checking in to make sure I was OK.

It also helped that my dad came to as many games as he could so that I could see for myself that he was bravely pushing through this challenge. Our game-day routine was always the same. He would blow up my phone while we were going up the 405 to the 118 on the team bus, wanting to know when we would get to the Rose Bowl.

Once we got there, I’d step off the bus to say a little prayer with him and my mom, Nui, before heading to the locker room. After the games we’d either go out to eat or head back to my apartment together and relax for a while before they would have to head home.

I get my jokester side from my dad and my work ethic from my mom. She worked two jobs for most of my life growing up, showing me the importance of sacrifice. She makes sure I keep my head on straight and stay humble no matter how much success I have.

Not long after our bowl game in late December, I got some awesome news: My dad was completely recovered. It was such a relief to know he was going to be all right and that we’d be spending a lot more time together.

I asked my parents if they wanted to move to whatever NFL city I live in after the draft and they were like, no, we’re fine. They’re going to stay in the Bay Area.

But I’m definitely going to treat them to something big to show them how much they mean to me. Maybe I’ll buy them a car or pay for a trip, wherever they’d like to go. If they want to go back home to Tonga, I’d definitely set that up.

I also want to get my older brother, Tita, something, maybe a fancy guitar because he’s a really talented musician. We used to pretend we were playing out the UCLA-USC rivalry even before I came to Westwood, getting in each other’s face to see who would be the most intimidating. I put on a blue shirt because I loved the color and acted like a Bruin and he put on red and became a Trojan. I have to say, I definitely won that sibling rivalry.

I’ll probably splurge on a Tesla for myself because it’s something I’ve wanted for a while. I’m just so thankful that my dad is going to be around for a long time to ride shotgun.

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.