Back when he was in kindergarten, Solomon “Solo” Tuliaupupu was asked by his teacher to draw what he wanted to be when he grew up. He went on to draw a football player. The teacher who assigned it told little Solomon he needed to pick a backup plan, something practical, just in case. His dad, Turnbull, still has that drawing. And now, more than two decades later, with his son suiting up for a ninth year of college football, that drawing hits different.​ 

“It reminds me that that’s always been his goal,” Turnbull said back in 2022. “‘Whatever I gotta go through to get to what the goal is, it’s not that big of a deal.’ It’s just part of the process.”

Except the process tried to kill the dream in about seven different ways.

If you want to pinpoint the moment Solo’s timeline broke, rewind to his senior year at Mater Dei. Solo was a four-star inside linebacker ranked fourth in the entire nation. He was the winner of the Butkus Award and USA Today’s National Defensive Player of the Year. Alabama, Ohio State, Notre Dame, and other bluebloods were drooling over his potential. Even Lincoln Riley, then at Oklahoma, came to his house to recruit him.​

And then, in the playoffs against Mission Viejo, he dropped back into coverage, and in his own words, it felt like his foot had split in half. It was a Lisfranc injury. That injury ended his school season. 

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But even after being a serious injury, it should’ve been a blip in the grand scheme of things. However, Solo became part of the unlucky 20% whose first surgery doesn’t work. So they fused the ligament back together. Another year gone. Then, in spring ball 2019, the injury was still nagging. Another procedure.

By the time 2020 rolled around and the Pac-12 flip-flopped on playing during COVID, Solo was finally cleared. Ready to go. And then, the day before training camp, he tore his ACL. Doctors said it was connected to the original foot injury.​ Four years into college. Zero snaps.

Fast forward to September 2022. It was Lincoln Riley’s first season at USC. Solo, now a redshirt senior, had survived the coaching change. Riley had recruited him years ago. But even Riley wasn’t sure what to do with a guy who’d spent four years rehabbing instead of playing. So, he started testing him, giving him outs, waiting to see if Solo would take the hint and transfer somewhere easier.​ But Solo didn’t take the hint. 

“I was interested to see, like, where he’d be at physically and then maybe more importantly, where he’d be at mentally when we came in,” Riley said. “You go through that much, you never know exactly how a guy is going to handle it.”

So when USC opened against Rice that fall, Solo was on the roster. But he wasn’t in as a linebacker. He was moved to the defensive line. It was a position he’d never played until the coaching staff needed bodies up front during spring ball. 

And late in the game, with USC already rolling, something happened that made the whole stadium pause.​ Sack. Number 58. Solomon Tuliaupupu. Turnbull had been taking pictures from the stands. But the line of scrimmage moved close enough that he switched to video just in time to capture his son’s first career sack. And his teammates were losing their minds, celebrating with him.​

“It was just excitement,” Turnbull said. “I’m happy that he’s gotten an opportunity to get back to what he enjoys and what he loves to do.” Lincoln Riley, a coach not known for sentimentality, admitted, “I’m as proud of him as anyone on our roster right now.”

That was 2022. Solo played all 14 games and had ten tackles with 2.5 sacks. These were not brilliant numbers, but they were his. It was proof that the drawing wasn’t a lie.​ Then 2023 happened. Another injury in fall camp. Another surgery. Another season gone.​

Solomon’s Montana Saga

After seven years at USC, he transferred to Montana in 2025. He logged 43 tackles and earned Second-Team All-Big Sky honors. And now, in 2026, he’s been granted one more chance to squeeze every last drop out of a career that’s been defined less by games played and more by games fought for.

Edge coach Roy Manning saw it years ago. He said, “He’s a physical player. Again, he’s had a lot of injuries, I know, in his career. So, trying to find him a home because the kid is really all into it and loves to be in this field. You feel the passion; he’s a very intense person.”

Turnbull saw it, too. “The plan never changed,” he said. “We never steered away from the plan.”

And Solo is still holding onto that kindergarten drawing, still refusing to pick a backup plan. Because some people don’t hedge. His teacher didn’t know. But that kid who drew a football player and went home upset when his teacher asked him to draw something else? He had already found his calling.