Hi... I'm Bode's Dad.
In previous years, I have written about what it is like to be me around this time of year. When football season officially ends, I become a wanted commodity. This year, it was coaching rumors. We had threads with tens of thousands of messages on our GEHB Discord. CougarSportsInsider.com was POPPING. Co-workers and ward members were asking me about what I’d heard about Kalani in the last hour. It was nonstop.
Then the Transfer Portal opened up, and the questions continued to flood in. Is Smith Snowden coming to BYU? What is NIL like? What happened to Liona Lefau? The questions never stopped.
To be clear, I’m not complaining. It’s a really cool feeling to feel wanted like that, which is exactly why I do it. The first Recruiting Big Board I ever released was for the Class of 2013, and I have been covering recruiting and BYU football since that time. If it wasn’t cool, I wouldn’t do it.
Most of you reading this know me as Jeff the BYU guy. A few of you have met Jeff the Banker guy. Some of you know Jeff the Braves fan, or Jeff the guy who likes BBQ. There are lots of flavors of Jeff.
Today is a little different, though. I’m going to introduce you to some folks that most of you don’t know at all.
I’d like you all to meet Bode’s Dad.
I love being Bode’s Dad. Frankly, I wish that I could be Bode’s Dad at ‘Hey Man’ events or when I’m in the office. Bode’s Dad has one of the best jobs in the entire world. I have so much fun when I’m Bode’s Dad.
Lately, being Bode’s Dad has come with some extra heartache. It hurts when you see your kids go through something, and it hurts even more when those somethings jump up out of nowhere and surprise you. A few weeks ago, I was rocked with a parenting challenge I hadn’t ever even considered, much less been prepared to deal with in real time.
As Jeff, I’ve talked about my own ups and downs with my mental health many times over the years. I shouldn’t have been surprised when Bode was telling Bode’s Dad about his own mental health challenges, but it was not something I expected. My heart hurt for him. My heart hurt for me. My heart just really hurt. Jeff knew how to handle that situation for Jeff, but Bode’s Dad was in uncharted territory.
But there is something powerful about being Bode’s Dad. As a faithful believer in God, I feel comfortable calling it divine parental inspiration. If I weren’t a believer, I’d probably call it parental instinct. No matter what you call it, there is something special that happens to parents in those difficult situations with their kids.
My heart was so full of love for Bode as he opened up his heart to me. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew how unbelievably proud of him I was for talking to me, and I knew how much I cared about his happiness and wanted him to feel better. In those vulnerable moments, Bode’s Dad came up with an idea.
I called it ‘one-for-one.’ Each night, I would tell Bode one thing that he did that day that really impressed me - that is one. In return, Bode tells me one thing that he did today that made him happy - that’s the other one. My idea at the moment was that this would help him feel external validation and help him learn how to identify good things in the midst of brain fog.
Over the last few weeks, one-for-one has become one of my favorite things.
I didn’t know how deeply Bode loved The Muppets. I knew he liked the show, and I knew he liked Kermit the Frog, but I didn’t know why. One-for-one has sparked conversations about topics that would never come up otherwise. I’ve learned Bode loves Jim Henson and believes he’s one of the most influential artists in the last 100 years (honestly, he’s probably not wrong). I’ve learned that he has a deep love of musical soundtracks, particularly anything composed by John Williams. I’ve learned that he loves the history of football and baseball - from Shoeless Joe Jackson to Mean Joe Greene.
I’ve learned that he feels like he is the only person who is interested in his own world. I’ve learned that he knows he is deeply loved by his family, but that he sometimes doesn’t feel like he has friends within his family. I’ve learned that even at 10 years old, Bode feels some of the same invisibility that each of us feels in our daily lives.
I’ve learned that he thinks Jeff is a really cool guy who knows a lot of people, but that he really just wants me to sit on the couch, throw him a ball, and be Bode’s Dad.
And I’ve learned that I love being Bode’s Dad so much more than I already thought that I did.
I’d like you to meet Maelyn’s Dad.
Maelyn’s Dad is intimidated by Maelyn. At 11 years old, she already knows that she wants to go to BYU one day for her undergraduate degree, get admitted into the new BYU Medical School, and become a pediatrician.
Maelyn plays the violin, and she plays it really well. She is on the student council in her school. She has befriended our neighbor, who lives alone, and considers her a good friend. She hates the idea of someone feeling lonely, and even though our neighbor is a full-grown adult, Maelyn has decided to take it upon herself to ensure our sweet neighbor never feels like she is alone.
Maelyn is a genius who reads at a college level. She absorbs everything from everywhere, and somehow remembers all of it. She is already smarter than her dad, she just doesn’t realize it yet.
Maelyn is everything a dad could want his daughter to be, and as a result, it’s honestly kind of intimidating to be Maelyn’s Dad. I don’t want to screw her up, but the downside of staying out of the way as an effort not to mess her up is that sometimes she feels forgotten.
Lately, though, I’ve tried a little bit harder to find some courage as Maelyn’s Dad. We have found we both love tracking the weather. I love looking for violinists to show her, and she loves to listen to them with me. We love driving around and looking for something beautiful each day to remind us that God is there. We love to cook, and we love to find the best chicken wings we can find.
It’s so much fun being Maelyn’s Dad. Maelyn’s Dad doesn’t even think about BYU football, and honestly, it’s kind of nice.
I'd like you to meet Dax's Dad.
Dax’s Dad is going to feel a lot more familiar. Dax’s Dad gets to empty my BYU brain and prepare Dax to be the coolest BYU fan at school. There isn’t a rumor or a piece of information that he doesn’t know, and then he takes those to school to impress all of his friends.
Dax doesn’t miss a BYU game. Honestly, he doesn’t miss very many sporting events at all. It’s really natural for me to be Dax’s Dad, because little kid Dax reminds me so much of little kid Jeff. We simply do the things that I grew up doing, and it’s awesome.
But Dax still needs to be seen, and I’ve learned that as Dax’s Dad over the last few weeks. He cares about box scores and wins, but he cares more about talking box scores and wins with Dad than he does about anything else. He loves to find me before tip-off or kickoff, press his forehead into mine, and repeat ‘Cosmo! Cosmo! Cosmo! Cosmo! Cosmo!’ a bunch of times, you know, to summon the basketball or football gods to the game.
Dax wants to drive around the state in the car and look for bald eagles. Dax wants to learn everything he can about nature, camping, and fishing. And he wants to do all of those things with his dad.
Why am I talking about all of this?
Because the last few weeks have been the most fulfilling few weeks of my entire life. I have poured everything I’ve had into being Bode’s Dad, Maelyn’s Dad, and Dax’s Dad. I am exhausted when they go to bed, and I have less energy to be Jeff the BYU guy or Jeff the whatever else.
But my cup overfloweth with joy and happiness.
Our GEHB community has been going through some really, really hard things lately. We’ve had members who are grappling with extended unemployment or sudden job loss. We have members who are struggling with infertility or grieving from pregnancy loss, and we have members who long to see their adult children for the first time in years. We have members who are struggling to find their voice. We have members who are grieving the loss of their loved ones. We have members who feel alone. We have members who feel invisible.
Our GEHB community, and everyone else, is facing some really hard stuff!
What I have learned over the last few weeks of intently focusing on being Dad is that losing myself in someone else’s life has been the most fulfilling endeavor I’ve ever been on.
Maybe you can’t be Bode’s Dad, or Susie’s Mom, or Tammy’s Husband, or Ron’s Son. But everyone can be Someone’s Someone. There is real power in figuring out how to be Someone’s Someone. Within our own GEHB community, there is Someone who needs a friend. Or a shoulder to cry on. Or someone willing to vouch for them as a job reference. Or something as simple as someone to go to lunch with.
Someone needs you - yes, you. When you find who that someone is, lose yourself entirely in being whatever they need. Your life will change right alongside theirs.