Good Game

Usually when I do these scribblings I try to disguise the identity of the people involved and change names to protect those both innocent and guilty. Today, however, I’m going to name names. I’m going to tell a little story about a current leader in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, our Stake President, David Allen, and his beautiful wife Becky. I hope I don’t get into trouble.


This happened decades ago, in another ward across the city, when we were all still raising kids. Larry and I were the parents of four children by then, two of them teenagers. Well, teens can be a challenge for anyone as we all know, but we were raggedy converts trying to raise LDS teens. We had zero experience in what this looked like. None of the experiences we had growing up had any application here. In fact, there was only one thing we knew for sure…… the way we were raised was not going to work in this situation. It was an unsettling time for us as parents. Sometimes I felt really alone.

Well, our only son was about 16 at the time, and played on his high school varsity football team. I tried to talk him into something safer, like chess, but he would only shake his head at me and say, “Mom, you’re an idiot…football is my life.” He’d played every year and was now getting to be a sort of a big deal on his team. There were about 70 guys on the team roster, and Dane plus another boy from our ward were two of only three or four boys who were LDS. Big school, lots of peer pressure, overwhelming odds, scary times for Mom and Dad.

I remember those Friday nights….dusty bleachers, bright lights, screaming crowds, marching bands, cheerleaders, players getting injured and hauled off on stretchers, snow cones, and often David and Becky Allen. The Allens? Yes, the Allens.

David was our bishop at the time, crazy busy as bishops always are. Becky was a bishop’s wife, even busier than he was, raising little kids and building a home while David looked after the whole ward. I think you’d have to have been there to appreciate the sacrifices involved in both those heavy calls.

Back to the Friday night football games. So many times I’d be sitting in the bleachers talking with friends, when here would come Bishop and Sister Allen to say hello.

“What are you doing here?” I’d ask in surprise. “You’re kids are still little…..you don’t have to do this for a few years yet!”

“We wanted our boys to know that we’re rooting for them,” they’d say. “Tell Dane we said that he played a really good game.” After a few more words they’d be on their way.

Well, I know a few things about how precious time is for a young couple with kids and lots of responsibilities. I know that a Friday night out with just the two of you can be hard to come by. I know about babysitters and what they cost. I also know that a high school football game isn’t the most romantic spot one can imagine.

I also know that every single time I said to my son, “Brother and Sister Allen stopped by to tell you that you played a really good game.”

He would say, “Bishop and his wife came to my game? Really?” Then he’d look off thoughtfully into space for a few seconds. I could tell by the look in his eyes that this meant something to him, something important. And I always felt a little less alone as a parent when I saw it.

That’s a small thing, you may say, those Friday nights. And I say, “Yes, but you know what the scriptures say about small things.”

Anyway, it was some decades later when the phone rang and it was my son who said I should sit down.

“Oh, no, what’s wrong?” I asked frantically as I sat.

“Lisa and I are in the Stake President’s office and I’ve been called to be in the bishopric. Does it shake your faith?” he asked.

“No, Son.” I replied. “Well, maybe a little.” And then for some reason I began to remember those Friday night football games, and a busy bishop and his even busier, beautiful wife. I remembered that they always said to tell Dane, “Good game.” I remembered that it mattered to him that they came. I remembered that it mattered to me.

I will tell him. And, Brother and Sister Allen, thank you so much. Good game.