When legends speak, you listen.
That's why it would have been fun to be on the extension and listen to the phone call between UNLV head coach John Robinson and LaVell Edwards the other day when the two exchanged salutations, then traded private chat.
Edwards, who turns 74 today is retired. Robinson, who is 69, just announced his retirement and walked the sidelines of LaVell Edwards Stadium for the last time Friday night.
Folks at BYU honored Robinson before kickoff and gave he and his wife airline tickets to Hawaii. Years ago as a child living in Provo where his father helped build Geneva Steel, Robinson couldn't have imagined that moment would come his way in this town.
Those who know Edwards and Robinson see a striking resemblance in the two giants. They've always been self-assured in their positions. They're drenched in experience, stories and lore. They've seen it all.
But most of all, they know all of this is just a game.
Their egos never hinged on things college kids did or didn't do on a patch of grass with lines.
UNLV play-by-play broadcaster Dave McCann, a BYU graduate, has been behind the scenes with Robinson, whose storied career at USC and the Los Angeles Rams is laced with faces of All-Americans.
Robinson, like Edwards, doesn't get too high or too low.
They both have seen too many bullets fly to cry or blather in a foxhole. "Big wins are always celebrated in the locker room, McCann said. But John has seen bigger. Same with losses. He's seen bigger.
Robinson is a coach who hates to go over a game after it is over — win or lose. He hates the conversation with the guy who comes up and says "if we only caught that pass on that drive in the fourth," because it is over.
After UNLV's loss at Wisconsin, McCann found himself alone with Robinson on one of these occasions. Hey, Dave, come here, Robinson said, walking up behind him. "You've got four minutes to tell me everything about being a Mormon. McCann told him it would take more than four minutes, but he understood. Robinson needed a conversation about anything but football.
Last spring, McCann finished an interview with Robinson and then his 12-year-old daughter, working on a broadcast project, did an interview with the coach.
"He talked her language, he never struggles to relate to people," McCann said. Robinson, knowing Courtney was a BYU fan, answered all her football questions, but always ended his answer with a tease of how bad BYU was going to be.
"Hey, coach, will you beat BYU this year?" Courtney asked. "Hey, we beat them every year," Robinson said with a straight face and smile for the camera. He was working Courtney.
After one game, McCann family met Robinson and they were decked out in BYU shirts and hats. McCann found it meaningful later that year at Christmastime and he opened a box from Robinson. Stuffed in the box was UNLV gear, a set for each member of his family, feminine stuff for the girls, nice shirts for the guys. There was a note: "You guys could use some UNLV red.
Mark Wallington, UNLV's football sports information director, will never forget the first time he met Robinson. It was when UNLV played at USC and Robinson was the head coach for the Trojans.
USC had to come back to defeat the Rebels that day, winning in the final quarter to save face over what could have been an embarrassing loss to a WAC squad.
After the gun sounded and UNLV players shuffled into the locker room, the mighty Robinson went to the Rebel locker room door and asked Wallington, "Hey, where is your quarterback (John Denton)." Wallington answered Denton was in the shower. Robinson headed to the tiled shower area where he called out Denton. To a stunned Denton, there was the opposing coach, USC's Robinson standing there.
Robinson told Denton he just wanted to congratulate him on a great game because UNLV had kicked his team's butt and had a great game."
Denton never stopped talking about that experience. Wallington will never forget.
Then Robinson took the job at UNLV and Wallington worked for him.
That impression, that class, that respect for Robinson only grew as Wallington worked alongside one of college football's most famous coaches, yes, a legend.
"You'd never know who'd show up to one of his practices at UNLV," Wallington said. "One day it would be John Madden or Ronnie Lott, Kevin Green, Marcus Allen or Eric Dickerson. They'd be in town and just drop in and coach would have them talk to the players. That was something."
Robinson, like Edwards, shared a special trait that remains very unusual in their profession. They never held grudges, especially with reporters.
You'd never know if you got under Edwards' skin with a critical piece in the media because if he ever read, heard or listened to it, you'd never know. Same with Robison.
When Robinson arrived at UNLV, he told Wallington that the local reporters would be given interviews any time possible, all they'd have to do is show up and ask and if he or his staff or players were available, they'd be taken care of.
At Los Angeles when reporters hurled insults at Robinson, and in his later years when criticized at UNLV, Robinson never held it against a reporter and Wallington says that trait taught him a very important lesson as a public relations specialist.
In later years, when Robinson started dealing with the Los Angeles media, some of the media types who'd taken a piece out of him at USC the Rams came knocking once more. Robinson simply treated them the same as a new guy on the beat — with respect.
It paid off. "I know some coaches, they held grudges. It hurt them," Wellington said.
Mirror of Edwards. Farewell, Big John.
E-mail: dharmon@desnews.com