at the time, so his memories of his grandfather are limited. He remembers going to his house on Christmas and receiving a Darth Vader cape, mask and voice box. Past that, he's heard stories from his father and others about Darryl as a football player but hasn't seen much tape of him. He has seen the play but doesn't dwell on it.

"It's never been in the back of my mind," Stingley Jr. says. "If I went on the field and thought about it, I would play scared. That's not the way to play."

Stingley Sr. also doesn't like to talk much about the hit. It's become an inevitable narrative fans and the press will associate with his family, but he'd rather look forward.

"I'm glad that people still talk aboutmy dad and want to know about him," Stingley Sr. says. "But now I like to live more in the present with Derek and his story."

A story that's gaining more attention for its own merits with every passing season.

By the time he was in ninth grade, Stingley Jr. was on the national recruiting radar.

He had joined the Dunham high school team, where his father would serve as defensive backs coach, when he was in eighth grade, and although there were initial reservations about his being undersized, he was too gifted not to play.

The very next year, Les Miles offered Stingley Jr. a scholarship at LSU, and it felt like the perfect fit. Not only did it keep him close to home, but Stingley Jr.'s love of Peterson had