The trouble with the Utah-BYU football rivalry is that while everybody else is busy dumping on each other, the coaches - Ron McBride and LaVell Edwards - actually like each other. In fact, they're family.
After a press conference earlier this week, McBride introduced Edwards to a couple of his players. "This is my father," he told them.Mac is, relatively speaking, the kin of expediency. After Edwards underwent emergency surgery last fall, the family instructed hospital officials not to allow any calls unless they were from family members. So Edwards' wife, Patti, picked up the first call that came through, and it was McBride on the other end.
"Ron, how did you get through?" Patti asked.
"I told them I was your uncle," he said.
Mac - Patti's uncle, Edwards' son - was checking up on his archrival. "He was just concerned about LaVell," says Patti.
In the middle of Fear and Loathing Week, we bring you a little civility on the front lines. Earlier this week, this is what Mac said about his golf and football foe: "He's a good human being. I don't know anyone who doesn't like LaVell Edwards. You can dislike BYU but not him. Usually if a guy is winning all the time, as he's done, people don't like him. But they do. You've got to work hard not to like him."
And here is what Edwards says about his northern rival. "He's a likable guy. I don't know anybody who doesn't like Ron. He's fun to be around. Everyone I know likes Ron."
It's not as if these two are going to start hanging out together on their days off, unless a charity calls. The friendliness exists despite this: Mac and Edwards are as different as two men can possibly be. McBride is intense, emotional, profane; Edwards is laid-back, imperturbable, quiet. On the sideline, Edwards looks like he's waiting for a bus; Mac looks like he got hit by one. Mac is superstitious; Edwards is decidedly not. Mac likes to run the ball; Edwards likes to throw.
Yet, as McBride's wife, Vicky, says, "They really are good friends. They just really like each other. And because of Ron and LaVell's relationship, I think the rivalry isn't quite as mean as it has been in the past. I think they have softened that nastiness, which I hated. It was irritating."
During the weekly Big Five press
conference, Mac and Edwards can be seen huddled together at a table, telling stories, exchanging scouting tips and laughing like a couple of schoolboys.
"He's a funny guy," says Mac. "He can make you laugh. He's got a great wit."
Their relationship thrives on one-liners and playful insults. Giving the disheveled Mac the slow once over, Edwards will say, "What, did you dress in the closet today?"
"You got that case of beer I sent you, didn't you?" Mac will say to Edwards, a Mormon.
Aside from football, Mac and Edwards usually are united most often by the many charity events in which they participate. Their wives also serve together on several boards for charitable organizations.
"There are kidney problems in LaVell's family," says Vicky. "One of his brothers died from it. LaVell serves on the Kidney Foundation board, and Ron helps with their golf tournament. And our grandson is autistic, and LaVell is nice enough to come up for the Autism Society dinner. I don't think either one of them has ever said no to charity, especially if it has anything to do with children. LaVell has been doing this sort of thing forever. He is an angel of mercy."
Mac and Edwards are a profitable team for charity. They once signed a football to be auctioned at a fund-raiser for Westminster College, and later Mac called Edwards to report, "We can quit coaching. The ball went for 10 grand."
They make a fun tandem at charity events, a sort of Rowen and Martin. Edwards plays the straight man to Mac's slapstick. It's perfect for Edwards' dry humor and wit and Mac's playful nature. With Mac a willing foil, Edwards can give him that deadpan, you're-nuts look or make a few clever comeback zingers.
"When they do a fund-raiser together, they're really very funny," says Vicky. "They crack people up."
Sometimes the chemistry turns to gray-haired exuberance. At one charity event, they played musical chairs with saddles for the crowd. Things got competitive and soon Edwards and McBride - grandfathers both, ages 68 and 58, respectively - were pushing each other off the saddles.
"Here they are, two old guys, pushing each other," says Vicky. "I thought, oh, my gosh, somebody's going to break his neck here."
Most of their competitiveness, however, is reserved for the golf course. Golf tournaments are a popular fund-raising event for charities, and Mac and Edwards are often on opposing sides in a scramble format. In the early years, Edwards, a fine golfer, and his team thrashed Mac and his team. Mac would go home steamed.
"Ron! It's for charity, lighten up!" Vicky said.
Then Mac started showing up with ringers. One year he brought the top player on the Ute golf team to a tournament. "This is the guy who mows my lawn," he told Edwards.
Mac's team scored "something like 21-under that day," he says.
Edwards retaliated. He showed up at one charity golf event with a new partner who had an old set of clubs and rough, callused hands.
"He's a plumber," Edwards said.
"No, he isn't," said Mac.
"Yeah, he is. Look at his hands."
"He really was a plumber," says Edwards now. "But he could play."
Edwards also showed up at an event with another partner Mac's team couldn't identify until they got a closer look on the second hole. "Holy cow, it's (Utah pro) Bruce Brockbank," one of them said.
Mac got his revenge. After one such event at Edwards' home course, Edwards told Mac to get lunch in the clubhouse and bill his account. When the cashier asked for his account number, Mac told him, "34-31."
There was a time when commercial interests cashed in on the Mac and Edwards tandem. Bank One produced a handful of commercials in which the coaches referred to each other, dryly, as "buddy" and "pal." Neither of them could act a lick, but that, plus the coaches' chemistry and charm, only added to the appeal, and the commercial was a hit. Unfortunately, McBride pulled the plug on the commercials when he learned they upset super Ute booster Spence Eccles, the boss of First Security.
"They had fun doing those ads," says Vicky.
Mac and Edwards enjoy each other's company, at least until they get to the stadium. As Patti Edwards said, "Ron and LaVell are good friends. They genuinely care about one another. But of course they really want to beat each other, too."