Empty the Call Sheet (Oct. 20)

Yogi's weekly Sunday newsletter written each week on the plane home from his game

Saturday afternoon I stood in a pressbox to call another game, but it was a series of Firsts on many levels.

The First time calling a game at Rutgers.

The First time being back at their stadium since 2003 when I was a player at Pitt.

The First time calling a game on Fox Sports 1.

By the end of the game, it would also be the First win for the UCLA Bruins in Big Ten Conference play.

But it was a different First that I’ll remember most and today, from 30,000 feet, I’d like to share that experience with you.

Four years ago today my Mom died and on Saturday, my family, who live on the east coast, sat in the stands at the birthplace of college football. 

Late in the 4th quarter, our producer Denny Blount was gracious enough to put them on air. Our director Pat O’Connor zoomed in. My broadcast partner Guy Haberman, always an illuminator, shined some light on them and we made light of my 1 reception for 20 yards against Rutgers which occurred almost 21 years to the day.

My family sitting in the stands at the UCLA-Rutgers game

As I saw my Dad and sister on screen, I was caught off guard at how much I missed my Mom in that very moment. The camera didn’t show her and all I wanted was for her to appear. Her name is Devorah and I called her ‘Coach.’ She loved football in ways that are hard to describe. A refugee, she grew up with parents who survived the Holocaust. They embedded deep compassion, a fierce spirit and a deep soul that anyone who met her could sense instantly. She moved to America at 7 years old, not speaking any English and would marry her high school sweetheart whom she went on a blind date with at 17 years old. That man, my Dad, was a good high school football player but she didn’t care for the sport, or so it seemed back then.

When I began to play in high school she went from novice to savant in a matter of months. Before long, she would be telling me what she heard from Colin Cowherd, why she was frustrated with Lee Corso because he made fun of my first name on air and of course her opinion on scheme. She always had an opinion on scheme. I can hear it now, “What are they thinking throwing the ball on their own 20-yard line – this guy doesn’t have a clue!” Undoubtedly, her stream of consciousness would thrive on social media. I quietly chuckle thinking about what her handle of choice would be…

With Mom on my wedding day

When I began to broadcast games she was the only opinion that mattered. Did I wear the right tie? How was the vibe between Ted Robinson and I? What did she think of the 3rd down call late in the game? She was on it all. What I miss most was how she would call out my yearly crutch. Every broadcaster has one and I often rotated between useless words, a lazy phrase or a small thing that only she could notice. 

The day she died, I recall waking up in a panic – I had to FaceTime her. A week earlier, I had flown home with my wife Amy and our two sons, Zayn and Makaiye. It was the middle of a global pandemic but she was going to see her grandsons, as Makaiye had just been born and nothing was going to stop her from meeting him. As the universe would have it, she told us about her lung cancer diagnosis on Christmas Eve in 2019. That same day we told her that a new baby boy was on his way to our family. 

Life in, life out. Or so it seems.

With my dad and sister at the UCLA-Rutgers game Saturday

My wife and I called her after waking up on October 20, 2020 and I told her about my dream. I had seen her parents in my dream and they told me to tell her it was ok for her to go meet them. My mom had often said she was waiting for her parents to arrive in a dream and when they did, she would leave us to greet them. I can still see her face as I told her about my dream, tears streaming down all of our cheeks. 

We knew what was coming. I didn’t want to accept it. 

I hung up that day still optimistic she would beat cancer and find her way to another Rose Bowl in the stands. 

A few hours later, my Dad would call and share the inevitable truth – his wife of almost 50 years had died.

I recall my final day with her and our final conversation. I had been writing letters to her from 30,000 feet on my flights to and from Pennsylvania during her final few months. The college football season was postponed and I was able to see her a few times. One afternoon, I walked into her bedroom and sat on her bed. As always, she knew what I was thinking and gracefully said, “Go ahead son, say your piece.” For the next hour, I read the letters I was writing aloud, barely getting through them. She laid in bed, cancer trying to take over her body, and looked at me with those hazel eyes and a depth I had grown so endeared to. 

She didn’t say a word, she didn’t have to. She heard me and I heard her. 

Later that evening she sat next to me and grasped my hands. She told me a line I’ll always recall. “In Hebrew there is a phrase, Tikkun Olam, which means to repair the world. Keep telling stories that can heal the world.”

That would be the final time we spoke in person and as the camera panned to my family yesterday late in the game I couldn’t help but think of that moment. As Guy and I reflected back on that 2003 game when I was with Pitt, I then thought of that annual hug that all players receive postgame from their moms. We always expect them to be there and never predict when they will be gone.

I’m not sure if any of our broadcasts are healing the world, after all it’s only football. But I do know that football has helped heal me, as I still hear her voice on Saturdays.

While I’ve slowed down the cadence of writing her notes from 30,000 feet, I have been writing to you all fall. It’s been fun, creative and a beautiful challenge. I’d like to think she would enjoy reading about college football through the lens of the West Coast and I know she would have some fierce opinions on realignment, NIL and some of these coaching decisions late in games.

So while there was a lot of news that came out of college football this past weekend I thank you for allowing me to write about the woman who changed my life and likely had the best seat in the house yesterday.

With my sister and her family before the UCLA-Rutgers game Saturday

Much love, many thanks and if you haven’t done it recently–go give your parents a hug, you never know when the last one will come.

Tikkun Olam,

Yogi

P.S. If you want to get to know the woman I called ‘Coach,’ take a listen to our conversation from 2016, as she joined my podcast as our very first guest.