John Allen, the head statistician of the Utah Jazz, jokingly refers to a couple of local behind-the-scenes sports figures as "two no-life stat guys."
But Jed Neilson and Chris Healy certainly shouldn't be offended by the label.
"It's a compliment," Allen said. "It's their life. I don't know why; they just love it, and they do it all the time."
By it, he means tracking statistics at sporting events — everywhere from Jazz games (both), University of Utah men's hoops (Neilson), Davis County and state tournament high school athletics (both Neilson at Viewmont; Healy at Bountiful) and, yes, even at church basketball contests (Healy, at least, according to a laughing Allen).
"I'm trying to get Chris married," joked Allen, who's in the same Bountiful-area LDS ward as Healy. "I can't even get him a second date."
In fairness to Healy, it isn't because he's not a charming, handsome gentleman; it might just be that there aren't many understanding women around (like Neilson's wife, Mary) who will allow their husbands to go to sporting events multiple times a week as a hobby.
So, statistically speaking, the Utah Jazz and Bountiful High might hope that Healy never finds a better half or they might need a replacement.
For the Braves, he keeps stats at football and basketball games and assembles the best college-like pre-game notes in the state.
And Healy is part of a Davis County-heavy stat crew for the Jazz. He does the main scorebook, Neilson keeps the scoreboard functioning, Allen calls out every single stat in the game as the official scorer, and Kerry Fenwick, Bountiful, is the clock operator. Becky Perry, Bountiful, and Vance Downs, Farmington, also help out on occasion.
And they're on top of their game as much as John Stockton and Karl Malone were on top of theirs a few years back.
"Our crew, year in, year out, has been considered one of the best of the league," Allen said. "Magic Johnson and Bill Walton both praised our crew."
Johnson knew he was going to be credited for the proper amount of assists whenever he visited Salt Lake City. And Allen takes pride in the fact that Magic acknowledged him for assists being done correctly here.
Of course, Stockton, the all-time assists and steals leader, was a benefactor of Allen's judgment calls as well.
Allen still fondly recalls the night Stockton broke Magic's mark.
"It was a heck of a night," he said. "I had sweaty palms."
Some of his helpers were up in the balcony, counting down every assist made by Stockton with big numbers. But before it was considered an assist and a new number revealed, Allen had to give his stamp of approval.
"Every time he looked like he may or may not have had an assist, I swear I had 19,000 people looking up at me," he said. "It was a pressure-packed night. I was hoping the one he made would be easy."
But instead, Stockton found an open Malone, who, in Allen's words, "got the ball, dropped it, took a fall-away backward jumpshot. I would have loved it to have been a layup."
Nevertheless, he called it an assist — and the league, as usual with his calls, later agreed.
Not many let Allen know they disagreed with one of his calls.
An exception happened years ago when John Salley of the Detroit Pistons had a blocked-shots clause in his contract. Allen didn't give Salley credit for what the player felt was a block, and he let the stat guy know about it.
Allen still thinks he was right.
"Somebody went up for a shot, and he (would have) had it just creamed. At the last minute, he passed it off to the left to avoid the block."
Allen said Salley approached him and asked him about it. His response: "You didn't block it." Allen even rewatched the tape after the game and sent Salley a letter explaining why it wasn't a block.
Other than the occasional complaint or compliment, most of the time, Allen said, "We stay hidden, incognito."
Allen is one of the busiest guys in the arena. He sounds like an auctioneer while rattling off all the play-by-play stats to his dictating crew.
"I don't enjoy the game like everybody else does. I'm too busy talking," he said. Allen added that he sounds like the radio announcer without any adjectives, just the meat of the subject.
So Hot Rod can relax, your job is safe.
When things really get heated up — as they do every so often — Allen can spout out as many as 12 stats in 10 seconds. For instance, he said, "A guy will miss a shot, get his own rebound, put it up, gets blocked, defensive rebound, the guy makes a bad pass, turnover steal, the guy who stole is blindsided and turns it over for another turnover steal. Basket made jump shot assist, two points off turnover."
All that, and he can't repeat himself. The action happens too fast. He just watches intently, lets stats roll off his tongue, tries to remember everything in correct order and relies on his talented typist to get all the info correct. His words are typed and put online and into stat programs right after he says them.
Allen says he's the only person he knows of who's been with every professional basketball team that's been in the state, dating back to the early 1970s with the Utah Stars of the ABA. A former U. player, he did stats for the Stars, then with the short-lived WBL team, before finally landing a long-term position with the Jazz when they came here in 1979 from New Orleans. He also did stats for the Utah Starzz of the WNBA and helps run the Rocky Mountain Revue, which he uses as training ground for his crew.
Allen is the Karl Malone Ironman of the stat world, having only missed eight games in what will be over 1,300 by the end of this Jazz season.
"Having played the game for years," Allen said, "it's just fun to still be around the game and be a part of it."
That's precisely why Neilson crunches so many numbers courtside. He said he gets "antsy" if he's at a game without doing statistical observations. He's been doing scoreboard stuff since he as in the eighth grade, so it's just part of him now a few decades later.
But Neilson, who has a real job when he's not penciling assists and offensive rebounds in the stat book, says being away a lot can be a touchy subject. Some weeks, he's at Viewmont games on two nights, Jazz games on others and at U. games in between. He also umpires prep baseball, if all that wasn't enough.
"Sometimes, she (his wife) gets annoyed with me gone all the time," he admits. "But she enjoys Friday nights."
The good thing about high school sports is that Neilson can bring along his family, and his kids love it.
"It's kind of sad when your (social) calendar goes by what sports season it is," he joked. But, he added, "There's something special about being on the sidelines of a high school football team."
Or, being courtside at a Jazz or Ute game — or, heck, even sometimes at a church ball game.
E-mail: jody@desnews.com