What It Means to Be a Cougar: LaVell Edwards, Bronco Mendenhall and BYU's Greatest Players

By Duff Tittle, LaVell Edwards and Bronco Mendenhall

This unique, compelling new title assembles the greatest players from one of the most celebrated teams in college football to share their personal memories. Filled with firsthand accounts with dozens of playersfrom the team's early days through the new millennium. What It Means to be a Cougar: LaVell Edwards, Bronco Mendenall and BYU's Greatest Players explores the phenomenon of being a BYU Cougar. One person or phrase cannot answer that question because so many different emotions encompass the Cougar spirit. What It Means to be an Cougar brings together stories, as told by the most outstanding voices of the BYU program and guaranteed to enhance your passion for Cougars football. It's not just one tradition, one season or one particular gameit's the stories coming from the players who made the magic happen over the decades that capture the true essence of playing in Provo.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Triumph Books
• Release date: Jul 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9781617495434

Book preview

Contents

Foreword by LaVell Edwards

Foreword by Bronco Mendenhall

Acknowledgments

Introduction

The Twenties Through the Forties

Edwin Eddie Kimball, Floyd Millet, Gayland Iron Mike Mills, Glen Oliverson

The Fifties

Jae R. Ballif, Dick Felt, Jay Weenig, Weldon Jackson

The Sixties

Eldon the Phantom Fortie, Curg Belcher, Virgil Carter, Mel Olson

The Seventies

Larry Carr, Jay Miller, Lance Reynolds, Gary Sheide, Gifford Nielsen, Todd Christensen, Marc Wilson

The Eighties

Nick Eyre, Jim McMahon, Tom Holmoe, Gordon Hudson, Steve Young, David Mills, Vai Sikahema, Kyle Morrell, Glen Kozlowski, Robbie Bosco, Kurt Gouveia, Leon White

The Nineties

Chris Smith, Ty Detmer, Eric Drage, Jamal Willis, Chad Lewis, Ben Cahoon, John Tait, Rob Morris

The New Millennium

Chris Hoke, Brandon Doman, Ryan Denney, Reno Mahe, Luke Staley, Curtis Brown, Bryan Kehl, Daniel Coats, John Beck, Jonny Harline, Austin Collie, Dennis Pitta, Max Hall

Legends

Dave Schulthess, Floyd Johnson, George Curtis

Photo Gallery

Foreword by LaVell Edwards

What It Means to Be a Cougar

At the time BYU hired me as the head football coach, I had been coaching 18 years and had been associated with just four winning seasons. I’ve jokingly said over the years, That shows you how bad the job was. I had no more credentials than that, and they still hired me.

My coaching style and philosophy were influenced by a lot of people. I was fortunate to play for some great men who influenced my life.

Sanky Dixon was my high school coach at Lincoln High in Orem, Utah. He had played at BYU in the 1920s and had a major influence on my wanting to be a coach. He was very passionate about the basics. We’d start from scratch every practice. Even before the final game of the season—the state championship game—we’d start practice with stance, starts, blocking, and tackling. Basic things like that. It carried through in my mind about the importance of the basics.

After high school, I played football at Utah State. They had won the conference championship two years earlier, and it looked like they had the best in-state football program at the time. I played varsity football for three seasons—’49 through ’51. The funny thing is we lost to BYU two of those three years.

After college, I was in the military for a couple years. I was stationed in Japan when I got my release. I’d only been home about a week, and I was set to go back to Utah State as a graduate assistant coach. My wife, Patti, had gotten us an apartment in Logan. She had gone home to visit her parents in Wyoming, and I was in the dorms with the players because we were about to start fall camp.

The day before camp I got a call from Lorenzo Hatch, the principal at Granite High School. He asked me to come to Salt Lake City and interview for the head-coaching job at Granite. I went down and met with him. He told me to come back that afternoon at 2:00 pm. When I came back, he offered me the job, and we signed the contract. Then he took me out to the field and introduced me to the football team.

Here I was, just released from the military, and I didn’t know a soul. My wife was in Wyoming, I had an apartment in Logan, and I had a job in Salt Lake. Needless to say, there was a lot of scurrying around for a while before we got settled.

I didn’t have a lot of success with regard to wins and losses at Granite. We ran the single wing. I was one of the few coaches still running it at the time. We ran it at Utah State under coach John Roning. He had a big impact on my thinking as a coach. He spent a lot of time talking to players individually, trying to build a desire in them to be successful. He stressed that the team can’t be successful unless each man does his job.

I was at Granite for eight years. Toward the end of that time, BYU hired Hal Mitchell as the head coach. He had played at UCLA and was a great football player. Hal played for a guy named Red Sanders, who was one of the great single-wing coaches in the country. So Hal ran the single wing at BYU. After his first year, Hal had an opening on his staff and hired me. I’ve often said jokingly—and there might be a lot of truth to it—that I may have been the only Mormon in the country running the single wing. That’s why he hired me.

When I got to BYU, we had a running back named Eldon Fortie. I had coached Eldon at Granite. He was a great player. In fact, he made first-team All-America at BYU his senior year. After a couple years they released Hal and brought in Tommy Hudspeth. I was with Tommy eight years before he left, and they offered me the job. It’s crazy how it all worked out.

I learned a lot from Tommy. He was very organized and detail-minded. He knew what he wanted to accomplish. Ironically, for a couple of years we had a kid named Virgil Carter, and we threw the football a lot. In 1965 we won the first football conference championship ever at BYU. When Virgil left, we got away from throwing the football—went back to running the wishbone and different things.

When Tommy left and I was appointed the head coach, I decided we were going to try something beside running the football. I figured I was probably going to get fired at some point, anyway, because everyone else had, so I decided that if the ship went down we were going to go down trying something different. That’s why I decided to throw the football.

Looking back on it, we weren’t trying to reinvent the game; we were simply trying to find a way to win football games. Ironically, my first season as head coach we had a kid named Pete Van Valkenburg, who led the nation in rushing. We didn’t have a quarterback who could throw, and I think we were picked to finish last in the league. We ended up going 7–4 and finished tied for second.

After the season, I sent Jim Criner, who was on our staff, to Tennessee to watch spring practice and learn more about the Volunteers’ defense. While he was there, he met Dewey Warren, who was coaching the freshman team. Dewey had been the starting quarterback at Tennessee in the mid-1960s and had a really good mind for throwing the ball. We hired him to work with the quarterbacks and help define the passing attack. At that point, I decided to stick with the plan and focus on the passing game, not the run like everyone else was doing.

I knew we were not going to compete in recruiting against the big football powers to get big linemen and quick running backs. I thought maybe we could create an edge by passing the ball. We had recruited a kid out of California named Gary Sheide, who had a good arm and could really throw the ball. Coming out of high school, he wanted to play baseball, so he went to junior college. He got hurt both his freshman and sophomore seasons and didn’t play much. After his sophomore year, we flew him to Provo for a recruiting visit. I think he liked what he saw—that we were committed to throwing the ball. He decided to come, and that’s really where we started throwing the ball well.

Gary really had a Joe Namath kind of style. He was sort of slouched at the shoulders, and his form—the way he threw the ball—really looked like Joe. He was one of those streaky guys who would go 2-for-8, or something like that, and then hit about 10 or 12 passes in a row. He was a very good quarterback.

I’m not sure there was a single moment when I realized our concept of throwing the football was going to work, but I’ll tell you there was a time when I really had doubts about what we were doing. In 1974, my third season, we lost the first three games and hadn’t got a lot of offense going by throwing the football. We had the fourth game won at Colorado State. All we had to do was take a knee with six seconds left and run out the clock. But we ended up fumbling the ball, and they threw a touchdown pass on the next play to tie it. Fortunately, they missed the extra point, and the game ended in a tie.

At that point we were 0–3–1. That week a couple of the players came to my office and wanted to have a players-only meeting. I told them that would be fine. I don’t know specifically what was said in that meeting, but whatever was said worked. We got on a winning streak and won seven of the final eight games. That was the only time I can ever recall having any doubts about what we were trying to do.

I’ve often thought about that players’ meeting. It probably affected my whole career and really the course of my life. If they had not gotten together and turned the season around, I probably would have been gone. If not that year, sometime soon. It seemed to change everything.

A couple years later, we brought in a guy named Doug Scovil as the offensive coordinator. He had coached Roger Staubach at Navy. I was looking for an offensive coach, and I called Bill Walsh to see if he might have any recommendations. He’s the one who told me about Doug.

I invited Doug to Provo and ended up offering him a contract. At the time he said there was no way he could come for the money we offered. Later, Bill and I talked, and I told him what had happened. He said, Don’t give up on him just yet. Let me talk with him. Whatever he told Doug apparently worked, because he decided to come to BYU.

He was the perfect guy for us at that time. We were doing some good things, but he helped us tie everything together into a nice package. We really opened up the offense. We started throwing to the backs and attacking the seams. Doug defined the philosophy of why we did certain things. We were radically different from the norm in college football at that time.

I’ve been fortunate to have some of the best coaches in the game come work in the BYU system. When Doug left, we brought in Ted Tollner. When Ted was hired to be the head coach at USC, we got Mike Holmgren, who later led the Green Bay Packers to a Super Bowl. Eventually guys like Roger French and Norm Chow took over. Each one of them built on and added to the basic concept first designed by Dewey Warren and revised and expanded by Doug.

Another key ingredient in our success over the years has been the string of All-America quarterbacks. They certainly had a variety of contrasting styles, but those who thrived in the BYU system had a great understanding and feel for the game. I think you either have it or you don’t. It’s not something you can coach. It’s a common quality shared by guys like Sheide, Gifford Nielsen, Marc Wilson, Jim McMahon, Steve Young, Robbie Bosco, Ty Detmer, John Walsh, Steve Sarkisian, Kevin Feterik, and Brandon Doman.

When Ty won the Heisman Trophy, it had a lot to do with Gary, Gifford, Marc, Jim, Steve, and Robbie. They helped pave the way and increase the credibility of the program over the years. When Ty had that fantastic season in 1990, he was able to stand on the shoulders of all the great BYU quarterbacks who had come before him.

I get asked all the time about my favorite moments, games, and plays, but there are so many great memories that it’s hard to choose. I do know the most relief I ever felt in my coaching career was after the 1980 Holiday Bowl. It was our fifth bowl game and our third straight Holiday Bowl. The whole week leading up to the game, the bowl guys were running around in their red Holiday Bowl jackets telling us we really needed to win for the bowl game to take off. Everyone was telling us this was our year.

Well, SMU had Eric Dickerson and Craig James. They had a heck of a team—by far the best team we had faced in a bowl game. When McMahon completed the Hail Mary pass to Clay Brown and Kurt Gunther kicked the extra point for the win, I don’t think I ever felt any more relief over winning a game than I did over that one.

How we won that game, I’ll never know. I don’t remember all the details about the decision to punt late in the game. I know Jim came off the field and was mad. He said a few choice words and was telling us that we had quit. We didn’t have much time, so we were trying to get him to calm down. The thing that was stunning to me—if I’m honest with myself—is that he was right. Subconsciously, you just think that it’s not going to happen—down 20 with about four minutes to play—but Jim was out there trying to win.

So I just figured, What the heck, we’ll go for it. Jim went out and completed a pass, and we went on down the field and scored. I think there were 18 seconds remaining when we got the ball back after Bill Schoepflin blocked the punt. We ran a couple plays, and there were three seconds left when Jim threw the final pass. When Clay came down with the ball, I just about died. It was amazing. To have it happen the way it did was unbelievable.

Of course one of the more exciting wins was the national championship game in 1984. That night had been so frustrating because we had pretty well dominated the game in the sense of moving the ball, but we had turned it over five or six times. Robbie Bosco got hurt, and it was just not going our way. To come back the way we did and have those two long scoring drives in the fourth quarter, with Robbie hitting Kelly Smith to give us the lead, was a huge relief.

My last game was probably one of the most unreal. By that time, with all the years and all the games, you could probably say it didn’t matter a whole lot—and it probably didn’t, really—but it did. It was Utah, and it was my last game. To win it the way we did was pretty special. We didn’t name Brandon Doman the starting quarterback until the last two games of the year. As I look back, that was probably one of the big mistakes I made by not naming him the starting quarterback before we did. He won both games for us and sent me out a winner. Then, of course, he won the first 12 games the next year. He just had a knack for winning. Brandon was a little unorthodox in throwing the ball, but he would get it there. He was such a great leader—what we call in the coaching profession, a winner.

From a personal standpoint, when I look back at my coaching career, one of the things I feel the most satisfaction about is we made football a presence at BYU. It had always been a basketball school. When you talk about being a Cougar, and talk about BYU football, there is a certain amount of satisfaction about what we accomplished.

Football to me was always more about personal relationships with players and what they eventually do with their lives. That was paramount to how I approached coaching.

I was an LDS bishop on campus for six years, and that was a special time for me. I really enjoyed working with the students and helping them grow and overcome challenges. I pretty much did the same things as the head football coach. I always had a lot of personal interviews with the players to make sure they were okay. I knew what we were trying to accomplish with football, and I let the coaches do their jobs. I would try to observe the players and talk with them if it seemed like they were struggling.

A lot times what we talked about had nothing to do with football. We would talk about what was going on in their lives. I always had an open door. I rarely ever closed the door to my office. Those private moments with the players were really important to me.

—LaVell Edwards

LaVell Edwards was the head football coach at BYU from 1972 to 2000. His 257 career victories ranks sixth all-time in Division I football history. He led the Cougars to the national championship in 1984 and was named National Coach of the Year in 1979 and 1984. Edwards led BYU to 22 bowl games, including 17 straight from 1978 to 1994. During Edwards’ amazing run, his players won a Heisman Trophy, two Outland Trophies, four Davey O’Brien Awards, and seven Sammy Baugh Trophies. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 2004. Five of his former players have also been enshrined. Edwards had 137 of his former players selected in the NFL Draft and 57 have played in the Super Bowl. In his final home game on November 18, 2000, Cougar Stadium was renamed LaVell Edwards Stadium in his honor.

Foreword by Bronco Mendenhall

What It Means to Be a Cougar

At about 5:30 am on December 13, 2004, I walked into my office for the first time as the newly appointed head football coach at BYU. The halls of the football office were dark and quiet. There was nothing on my desk or shelves when I entered the room that morning. It was a surreal experience. I wondered, What have I done? What do I do now?

More than a few things raced through my mind as I contemplated the importance of this new position. Feeling a tremendous need for guidance, for direction, and for strength, I immediately knelt and prayed.

Shortly after finishing my prayer, there was a knock on my office door. When I opened the door, there stood LaVell Edwards. His timing could not have been more appropriate. I knew it was not by accident that Coach Edwards was there. His visit could not have been more needed.

We shook hands, I invited him in, and we sat down. He pulled his chair close to mine so our knees were almost touching. He stared into my eyes. Finally, after a brief period of silence that seemed to last forever, he said, You have a tough job. Those were the first words he said, and I wasn’t comforted. Then in a grandfatherly way, he said, But you have a great job.

At the time, I didn’t know what he meant by either statement. Since that time, I have come to realize just how tough, just how important this job really is. At BYU playing and coaching football is so much more than the game itself. There is a legacy here like no other.

While there is certainly a storied football tradition at BYU—the national championship, conference titles, bowl invitations, All-America citations, a Heisman Trophy, a Doak Walker Award, two Outland Trophies, numerous Davey O’Brien and Sammy Baugh Awards, and many other accomplishments—it’s the tradition of changing lives that makes BYU such a unique place. 

I grew up in Alpine, Utah, about 30 minutes from Provo. Coming out of American Fork High School, all I wanted to do was follow in the footsteps of my dad, Paul, and my older brother Mat, and play football for the Cougars. But I didn’t get that opportunity. I went to junior college at Snow College in Ephraim, Utah, and was part of a national championship team before going on to Oregon State. In essence, I was passed over twice by the Cougars. I basically decided to go to Oregon State because BYU was on the Beavers’ schedule.

Ironically, even though I wasn’t playing for BYU, the experience of playing at BYU did ultimately have an impact in my life. I was starting at safety for Oregon State when we came to Cougar Stadium in 1986. Our defense held BYU to just one touchdown, and we won the game 10–7. I remember lying down at the 50-yard line after the game and just taking it all in. It was gratifying because of the respect I had for the program, for what it represented to me growing up, which was excellence.

Beating BYU that day, I felt like there was justice in the universe. Afterward, I started to come to grips with the fact that I needed more meaning in my life. I had come into Cougar Stadium and helped my team win the very game that had been my motivation for going to Oregon State. I began to ponder, Now what?

Looking back, the void left after that moment helped me start to explore what other goals I really wanted in life, what meaning or higher purpose there was to strive for. I returned to BYU some 17 years later when Gary Crowton hired me as BYU’s defensive coordinator in 2003. Two years later I was given the opportunity to lead the program as the head coach.

From that first day on the job, Coach Edwards has been absolutely instrumental in helping me as a young, first-time head coach. This university is so unique and so special. It has such a different mission. Who else could provide the appropriate insight other than LaVell?

I value his word, I value his experience, but more than anything, I value his character and the way he ran this program for nearly 30 years. He set a perfect example for me to strive for. I’m not Coach Edwards and I never will be, but I would like to honor his legacy, and I would like to honor the tradition that he established here at BYU.

By embracing the football legacy, we are willing to measure BYU’s future against its legendary past. If we can do that, then it will have been a successful journey. We are not there yet, because LaVell’s legacy included amazing consistency over time, but I feel that we are on the right path. Over the past six seasons, only 15 teams have won more games than we have at BYU. During that stretch, we’ve been invited to a bowl game each year, winning four of the last five. That’s something that hadn’t been done at BYU since the 1980–1984 run. We’ve also been ranked in the top 25 five of the past six years. We have demonstrated, and we will continue to demonstrate, that BYU is and should be considered one of the top programs in the country.

We have great young men in the program, and their success is evident in many areas of their lives. Six players have been named CoSIDA Academic All-Americans over the past three seasons. Only one team in the nation has earned more. These are important benchmarks that link the program to its past success and prominence. It gives us tremendous momentum to be able to accomplish our future goals.

The legacy of BYU, however, is much more than football. While some may believe our football success is related largely to what happens on Saturday, it’s the tradition of changing lives through living with honor and being guided by the Spirit that has created the amazing tradition at BYU.

I am honored to serve as the head football coach. I am privileged to be associated with such great young men and to stand with them on the shoulders of the outstanding individuals who preceded them—those who helped create such a lasting and meaningful tradition at BYU. 

Upon taking over the program, I felt there were a few principles that needed immediate attention, such as accountability, discipline, and effort. It became clear that for us to be successful in every way, we would need to hold fast to three overriding principles—tradition, spirit, and honor.

I knew the program should reflect the tradition that had been established by past coaches, players, and teams. I realized that, to be fully aligned with the university, we needed to embrace and exemplify the principles of the Honor Code. Finally, I wanted our program to be rooted in the spiritual foundation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

It also became clear to me that we needed to make the BYU football program as distinct and different as the mission of the university. BYU isn’t like anywhere else. It wasn’t designed to be. Its purpose is specific and its purpose is unique.

It’s the reason why we do service and hold firesides the night before games. The majority of our players have served Church missions all over the world and have held important leadership positions. That’s why we created a players’ leadership council comprised of elected representatives from each position. It provides a framework for them to actually own the team. I don’t know of any other place in the country that gives its players all of these opportunities.

The worst mistake I can make at BYU is to not ask enough of our athletes. These young men are different than most others I’ve been around. They have different experiences, different upbringings, and a completely different maturity level than you’ll find at any other institution. It’s another reason why BYU is so distinctive.

It’s also why we emphasize the spiritual nature and growth of the individual. The very foundation of this university is built on the Spirit. If our program doesn’t reflect that in a manner that is solidly aligned, then I think we’ve missed the mark.

I have a very clear idea of the mission of this institution. The mission of our football program is to be the flag bearers of Brigham Young University through football excellence, embracing truth, tradition, virtue, and honor as a beacon to the world. This mission leads to a sense of calm, a sense of purpose, a sense of determination. We are simply trying to do the best we can to represent this institution at the highest level.

College football coaches spend hours looking for ways to find a competitive advantage. In our competitive world, it’s easy to let your life revolve around football at the expense of everything else.

I’m sure many of my colleagues would find it unusual to think that I don’t list football as the top priority. That’s not to say that I don’t think winning is important. We want to win and be the very best. But as memorable as many of those successful on-field moments have been, football is not the most important thing in my life, and I don’t want it to be the top priority in the lives of our players.

Lasting happiness comes from what I believe are the four most important things in life—faith, family, knowledge, and friends. These building blocks of personal integrity are far more important to our happiness than football, or any other sport. They are essential parts of life that will ultimately influence who we are and what we stand for.

The history of BYU football is filled with amazing stories of success that have shaped the tradition of the program and ultimately led to national prominence. However, it is the quiet, often unseen moments—away from the field—that are most important and truly define BYU football. Our mission has been, and will continue to be, to change lives through football excellence.

—Bronco Mendenhall

Bronco Mendenhall was named the head football coach at BYU on December 13, 2004. In six seasons he has led BYU to a 56–21 record, a .727 winning percentage—the best in school history. Under his leadership, BYU has won two outright conference championships, been invited to six consecutive bowl games, and has been ranked in the top 25 five of six seasons. Before becoming BYU’s 14th head coach, Mendenhall was an assistant coach at six different schools. He served as defensive coordinator at BYU, New Mexico, Northern Arizona, Snow College, and Oregon State, where at the age of 29 he became the youngest defensive coordinator in Pac-10 history. Mendenhall was the AFCA Region 5 Coach of the Year, Mountain West Conference Coach of the Year, and an Eddie Robinson National Coach of the Year Finalist in 2006. He earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Oregon State University, where he was a two-year starter, team captain, and recipient of the Leo Gribkoff Memorial Award given to the team’s most inspirational player. Mendenhall was a Gridwire All-American and team captain at Snow College while helping his team win the NJCAA national championship.

Acknowledgments

This book wouldn’t have come together without the support and expertise of a lot of talented people. First of all, I appreciate BYU athletics director Tom Holmoe and the administration for embracing the project. At his very core, Tom understands what it means to be a Cougar. His story embodies the BYU experience.

This book doesn’t happen without LaVell Edwards. In fact, BYU football—as we know it—would not be what it is today without his vision and leadership. The man is a legend. In 1972 he took over a program that had never been to a bowl game and had captured just one conference championship in 47 years. He retired 29 years later as the sixth-winningest coach in NCAA history. My hope is this book captures his legacy through the stories and memories of many of the young men he coached and influenced for good.

I also want to thank current head football coach Bronco Mendenhall for his willingness to be involved in the project. He has carried on the winning tradition of Cougars football by emphasizing tradition, spirit, and honor. BYU is a unique institution. There is no other university quite like it in the world. Coach Mendenhall has a clear understanding of the BYU mission and, like Coach Edwards, understands football is a vehicle to change lives.

Several other individuals in the BYU athletics department provided assistance with this project. First and foremost, I want to thank Brett Pyne for his willingness to become the unofficial editor of this book. He reviewed the manuscript, asked questions, made suggestions, and encouraged me to keep going. I’m very fortunate that he has been my friend, accomplice, confidant, and associate for more than 40 years.

Special thanks to the BYU athletic communications family—Jenny Wheeler, Norma Collett, Kyle Chilton, Ralph Zobell, Jordan Feinauer, Dave Broberg, and Chris Oakeson—for your assistance and patience. Also thanks to Shirley Johnson, Carey Hoki, Duane Busby, Mel Olson, and Robbie Bosco—current and former BYU football employees who assisted with the project.

I’m grateful to the staff at L. Tom Perry Special Collections in the Harold B. Lee Library at BYU for providing access to interview transcripts of former Cougars legends who are now deceased. It was like being transported back in time to read the words of Eddie Kimball and Floyd Millet.

For the same reasons, I’m appreciative to Ann Johnson and Charlene Mills Ashworth for sharing with me with the writings of their fathers, Floyd Johnson and Mike Mills. A special thanks to Val Hale for having the foresight to capture—and allow me to reference—many of Brother J’s experiences in Touchdowns, Tip-offs, and Testimonies. Also thanks to Kevin Mitchell for providing video interviews of Jim McMahon and Steve Young.

There are so many other legendary coaches and players who have passed on that I wish I could have interviewed. Guys like Ott Romney, C.J. Hart, Marion Probert, Rex Berry, Owen Dixon, Herman Longhurst, Lonnie Dennis, Phil Odle, Glen Redd, and the list goes on. All are men who played an important role in laying the foundation of Cougars football.

I want to thank all the former BYU football players who were generous with their time and willing to be part of this book. Some were the legends of my youth, and I consider it an honor to have the opportunity to tell their story. Many others I’ve worked with during my 15 years in the athletics department. Seeing them grow, succeed, and achieve their dreams is one of the main reasons why I love my job and consider it an honor to be a Cougar.

By no means is this book a definitive list of the greatest players in BYU history. There are so many others I wanted to include, but time, space, and the lack of contact information made it impossible. Maybe there is a sequel down the road.

During my time at BYU, I’ve been fortunate to work with a lot of talented and