No one is more surprised that NaNa Boadi-Owusu was recently voted to the honor of 12th Man at Texas A&M than his mom, Akua Owusu. 

She remembers walking through Boles Middle School in Arlington, Texas, ahead of her oldest son’s seventh grade year to pick up his schedule when they bumped into a table labeled “Athletics.” When the coaches at the table asked the mom what sport her son planned to play, Akua instinctually answered “soccer.” After all, that was the national sport in Ghana, where she was from, and it was the sport that NaNa and his younger brother, PK, played growing up, first in Virginia and now in Arlington. 

“Those coaches responded, ‘No! No! They have to play football. Just give us two weeks with your boys and if you don’t like, they don’t have to play again,’” Akua recalled with a laugh. “I didn’t like it. I screamed the first time I saw someone get tackled and they basically banned me from their games for the most part because I couldn’t handle it.”

But that’s not where the story ends. Akua couldn’t bring herself to end NaNa’s football career before it even started. She quickly began to see benefits from the sport she viewed as scary, mostly because of brain trauma concerns. 

NaNa was a “chunky” kid, according to his mother. He described himself as a soccer player built like an offensive lineman. Because of this, he was relegated to goalkeeper duty for most of his soccer days as a youth. Football practice began to quickly help NaNa shed the pounds. And gain confidence. He started to dress better. Akua was excited to see the cargo shorts and baggy shirts be replaced by fitted clothes, including suits for gamedays as he left middle school for Arlington Martin High School. 

So, despite her fears, Akua did what good mothers do: She placed her kid’s wants before her own. 

“I saw how much work he was putting in and how it was changing his body and his confidence in himself and I knew I had to support (football),” she said. “They started playing well despite never playing and the coaches starting showing them attention.”

That buy-in was tested when she received a call from the Martin coaches after NaNa broke his leg in a game in Houston. Knowing his mom, NaNa immediately took the phone from the athletic trainer to tell her, “Don’t freak out, I’m okay.” 

“I took him to the orthopedist and asked him if he was going back out for football after the injury,” she said. “He said, ‘Of course, mom. I’m playing as soon as I’m healthy.'” 

Akua knew the truth – her son loved football. So, she evolved. NaNa and PK began watching football with her on the television to explain the rules and how the game worked. NaNa, who played defensive end at Martin, told her to look for the player in a stance like a frog, so Akua still calls him her little frog. When NaNa was voted team captain at Martin, Akua began showing up to more games. Instead of screaming, she was now cheering. And at the right times. 

“They basically flipped my perception of the game,” she admitted. “Now, I’m a real football mom who is cheering. People look at me now and are like, ‘You? A football mom?’ but it comes from a love of my boys and their love of the game.” 

NaNa fell in love with College Station as a sophomore in high school on a class trip. Education is important in the Owusu household. Akua has two degrees. Her mother was an administrative assistant at a university in Ghana where her stepfather was a professor. Her husband, James, is an engineer. NaNa was allowed to play football despite fears about concussions, but only if he maintained all A’s in the classroom. 

NaNa also wanted to play college football. On a questionnaire handed out by then Martin head coach Bob Wager, NaNa was asked what his plans were after college and if Wager could be of service. NaNa said he wanted to walk-on to the football team at Texas A&M, where he was already admitted as a student. Wager called up an old friend – late Texas A&M defensive line coach Terry Price. 

“I told TP that NaNa would elevate the locker room,” Wager said. “You’ll never have to worry about what he does off the field. He’ll be a great representation of your football program in the classroom and in the community.”  

NaNa’s teammates clearly agree with his old ball coach. He was voted to be the 12th Man in 2024, arguably the highest honor a walk-on football player can receive in college football. Akua didn’t know much about the tradition and what it meant. NaNa kept her in the dark until he won the vote. When she heard the news and what it meant, she cried. But not like she did when he broke his leg. 

“We’ve evolved a lot as parents,” Akua said about her and James. “Our culture made you pick between school and sports. For a long time, we thought he couldn’t excel at school if he was distracted by sports, but that wasn’t true. Here, sports help you become more well-rounded. We’ve learned a lot from the way he balanced education with a love of sports.”