MAN FOR ALL SEASONS
By Jeff Call, ’94
After 29 years at the helm of BYU football, LaVell Edwards has retired, leaving fans a legacy of memories: conference championships, bowl games, outstanding quarterbacks, NCAA records, and—not least—his stoic sideline demeanor. But among players and fellow coaches, Edwards is also remembered for his courtesy, counsel, and humor.
LaVell Edwards and BYU football were a match made in heaven if there ever was one.It was a 39-year marriage. But nobody guessed it would last that long back in 1962, when Edwards, then a 32-year-old high school coach with aspirations of being a guidance counselor, became the Cougars' defensive line coach. Ten years later he was hired as the head coach with exactly zero fanfare.Edwards transformed a religious, cold-weather school with no football tradition into a national power. He unleashed an unconventional offense that threw the football, a trend that eventually caught on. He was the reason the school had to expand Cougar Stadium into a 65,000-seat monument. He was one of the most successful college football coaches of all time.But forget the statistics, innovations, records, honors, and championships. It was his style and personality that set him apart. Edwards never took himself too seriously. Perhaps the only person who doesn't see Edwards as a legend is Edwards himself.He was different from most coaches in almost every way. He didn't have the big contract with the big ego to match. He didn't wear a headset on the sidelines, he didn't throw temper tantrums, he didn't berate his players. Instead he had a calm, aw-shucks demeanor that belied his competitive nature and jovial spirit. "Someone once said I'm actually a happy guy," he has said, "I just forgot to tell my face." Humor and humility were hallmarks of his tenure, whether in victory or defeat.For instance, in 1997 after undergoing surgery to repair blocked carotid arteries in his neck, days after a frustrating loss to in-state rival Utah, Edwards joked that the reason his team passed the ball only 16 times was a lack of oxygen to his brain.And in 1981 following a tough loss at Wyoming in a blinding snowstorm, Edwards cracked, "I'd rather lose and live in Provo than win and live in Laramie."He was always approachable. He treated Daily Universe cub reporters and well-known Sports Illustrated writers the same way—with respect. In return Edwards received universal respect from the media, as well as from fans (not just those from BYU) and peers in the profession. No wonder USA Today called him "a national coaching treasure."Now his career is over. What remains is a magnificent legacy. As far as those who know him best are concerned, only part of that legacy has to do with record-setting quarterbacks and a national championship. For Edwards is a man for all seasons, not just football season. To his family he is a devoted father and loving husband. To the players he coached, he is a father figure. As much as he was consumed about football, he was never consumed by football. He found time to listen to Willie Nelson's music, to travel, to golf, to work in his flower garden, and to serve his church and community.Now, in retirement from football, his autumns will be free for the first time in 56 years. He has grandchildren to spoil. He wants to go on an LDS mission. And, of course, he can spend more time with his real match-made-in-heaven. That would be his wife, Patti. Jeff Call, '94, is a sports writer for the Deseret News.
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