The Passing of a Utah Legend

“LaVell Edwards, Hall of Fame football coach, dies at age 86”

This one hurts.

Since my very youthful infatuation with the Dodgers, I’ve never been a particularly passionate sports fan.  If a football game is on television and I stumble across it or somebody else turns it on, I might watch a few minutes of it, and I’ve attended a handful of BYU games — when others have invited me.  I can easily be drawn in, but I seldom if ever take the first step myself.

But LaVell Edwards was a huge presence here in Utah Valley and in Utah generally.  It’s entirely appropriate that BYU’s football stadium is named after him.

I remember, once, going to a small Chinese restaurant down in Springville.  He and his wife were eating dinner there, but they scarcely had the opportunity for an uninterrupted bite.  Time after time, somebody would come over to chat, to express admiration, to offer advice, to ask about a play call in some memorable game.  And those who didn’t talk to him were watching him.  I felt sorry for him and his wife, and resolved to leave them absolutely alone.  That’s my general policy whenever I see famous people out trying to have a life.

Still, I had a few encounters with BYU’s legendary football coach.  I’ll mention two:

While he was back serving a mission with his wife in Manhattan, we had one of our Islamic Translation events there.  The New York City church leaders took advantage of our availability by hosting a dinner, on an open night for us, for a multi-ethnic group of local Muslims.  LaVell — it seems apt to use his first name — was centrally involved in this.  It was the first time I’d actually met him, and I was really impressed by his down-to-earth friendliness, his genuine interest in all the guests, his good humor, and his utter lack of self-importance.  He had a great time, and so did those who had been invited.

On another occasion, a very wealthy friend (now a General Authority) bought us some seats at a charitable dinner-auction up in the Heber Valley.  It was a relatively small group of, on the whole, rich to very rich people (including one or two prominent football names; even I had heard of them), and the purpose was to raise money to build schools, dig wells, and do other good things in Ethiopia.  (Our friend was and is deeply committed to such efforts.)

Steve Young was the emcee and auctioneer.  We bought a few small things, but, candidly, felt quite out of our financial league there — notwithstanding the enormous salary and the lavish perks that, I sometimes read, I’ve received for my work as an apologist.

The funniest part of the evening, though, was this:  LaVell Edwards was seated with a very wealthy fellow at the table next to ours.  Every once in a while, that fellow had to take a telephone call.  He was vocally apologetic, explaining that these were urgent business matters.  Each time he went out of the room for his phone call, LaVell would grab the sign with the man’s bid number on it and raise it to bid.  By the end of the evening, the man was good-naturedly surprised to learn that he had “bought” a school, a small clinic, and a couple of water wells.  We all had enormous fun watching LaVell’s joke.  He seems to have been a great prankster.  It was clear that he was very well-liked.