Gordon Monson: Quarterback Kedon Slovis loves football again at BYU

The first thing you need to know about new BYU quarterback Kedon Slovis is that he’s a huge Beatles fan. This is important, not some silly little feature side note.

It goes beyond good musical taste and an appreciation for great rock ’n’ roll, although there is that, too. It goes to a lyric at the end and also to the fact that the kid knows how to live and learn — his parents taught him about and exposed him to the brilliance of Lennon and McCartney, Harrison and Starr — and how to give and to get, how to hold onto things of the past, the things worth holding onto and in addition, just as importantly, to let go of the less-significant more recent noise.

Slovis has heard plenty of noise.

But if he were driving home from Provo to Arizona and he had to listen to a single group the entire way, the Fab Four would be his top choice. “Love ‘em,” he says. And if it weren’t them, Frank Sinatra would be his alternate pick.

Are all you Boomers impressed?

The second thing is this: The 22-year-old Slovis has in his room, in plain view, a framed paper sheet that reads: “Round 1, 2024 Draft.”

“I want to play in the NFL,” he says, without a hint of dreamy awe in his tone. In high school, after all, he was coached by NFL Hall of Fame quarterback Kurt Warner. Like a lot of kids, he had professional football as a goal. But in his case, a legend was drawing up his plays, telling him what to do, what not to do, right to his face. It was there, in flesh and blood, every day at practice.

BYU offensive coordinator Aaron Roderick straight says, “He’ll play in the NFL. He’s got all the tools.”

That’s what Slovis wants, what he’s always wanted.

And the way to make that happen runs directly through Provo. It initially went throttle up, rather infamously, at USC, where the quarterback stormed onto the scene as an 18-year-old lightly-recruited freshman, when he threw for 3,502 yards and 30 touchdowns in that first season. You might be familiar with the story.

In his first start, Slovis’s Trojans fell behind early to then-ranked Stanford, after which the quarterback announced to his teammates in the huddle that they would score on every drive thereafter. He was wrong about that. They only scored on six of the next seven possessions and won, going away, Slovis throwing for nearly 400 yards and a load of touchdowns. In those moments, he turned a talented-but-sagging USC program, coming off a 5-7 season, into a bunch of believers.

At the end of games, fans at the Coliseum chanted, “We love Slovis … We love Slovis.” And life for the youngster was promising indeed, including the glory that comes to a star QB at USC, on the field and off it, alongside potential championships, a possible Heisman, and after that, a pro career.

Slovis could feel some of that, but, ever the critic, he also knew something else: “I can be so much better.”

He also could be worse.

“I did some good things, but I was also throwing ducks,” he says. His arm was broken. Not fractured, just messed up, never quite right, thanks to a bum flexor tendon in his elbow.

As it turned out, in addition to that injury, there was a coming pandemic, undulating highlights and lowlights, a coaching change, another injury, blame to take and, ultimately, a transfer a couple of thousand miles away to Pitt.

In that mix, Slovis started working with former BYU quarterback/noted current quarterback trainer John Beck.

But when Clay Helton was fired at USC, probably even before that, Slovis knew he was headed to another program. He had to transfer to rekindle and reclaim what had once seemed automatic — not just college football success, but a love for the game.

He had to give to the game as much as he took. More on that later.

When he arrived at Pittsburgh, prior to last season, he discovered in short order that the promises made to him — an aggressive, progressive, enlightened attack — would not be fulfilled. His offensive coordinator bolted. His top target — receiver Jordan Addison — left Pitt for USC. And running the ball supplanted passing it as the major objective.

He thought as he suffered through the fall, “This isn’t the situation I committed to. … I had one more year left. I could stay or go elsewhere.”

The third thing: Slovis went elsewhere. But you knew that already. He came to BYU, not intending to rip or blame his former teams and coaches — he hasn’t, not publicly — but simply looking for a football situation that fit his skills. Again, he knew he wasn’t free of fault for his troubles.

“The first guy I talked to in the [transfer] portal was Aaron Roderick,” Slovis says.

When the coordinator and the quarterback met up in a hotel lobby in Pittsburgh, they talked for four hours, Roderick proceeding to describe in detail not only his own offense, not just what Slovis could do in that offense, but also his comprehensive assessment of the QB’s talents and weaknesses. The whole shebang. They broke down individual plays A-Rod had studied — the coach had watched every play of every game Slovis had previously played in.

For example, he disassembled and reassembled a touchdown pass Slovis had thrown against Utah in the COVID season, marveling at how the quarterback had found a receiver that most QBs never would have spotted against that particular defense.

“It was a red-zone play,” Roderick remembers. “It was against a coverage Utah does better than anyone in the country, they’re the masters of it. But Kedon threw it in the one place that it almost never goes, the one place where the pass could be completed. It was special that he found that throw.”

Says Slovis: “He knew and understood me. He had respect for me as a player and as a person. I thought, ‘This is a coach I want to play for.’”

After their meeting, Roderick told Slovis, “You are who I thought you were.”

So it was that Frick met Frack and the deal was made certain. The quarterback of so much acclaim early on at USC was to become a quarterback seeking more acclaim — and acclimation — at BYU.

“I was searching for someone who sees the game the way I do,” Slovis says. “[BYU’s] offense is a lot like the one from my freshman year at SC. Knowing [Roderick] was my coach made me feel good about the situation here.”

The fourth thing: He feels even better about that situation now, as of the close of spring ball last week, and so does Roderick.

“Kedon’s almost too good to be true, so far,” says Roderick, a coach not known for bombastic or overblown statements about his players. He adds that Slovis has a “strong, accurate arm, is humble and mature, can throw on the run, and is a better athlete than people know.”

He says Slovis’s poise and leadership and attitude are strengths. “When we were recruiting him, he was getting NIL offers from SEC schools,” Roderick says. “But he never asked us for a dime. He didn’t care about the money. He cared about the football.”

So much for the quarterback as self-centered, self-interested mercenary.

“We have a long way to go,” says Slovis. “But we had some good battles in spring camp. I love the offense — explosive, balanced but aggressive. It allows you to play loose and free. And I love Jay Hill’s defense.”

The fifth thing, a big one: Football is no longer a drag. “This is the most fun I’ve had playing football in a long time,” the quarterback says. “It’s been a long time since I was happy about [my] situation. This spring was super-fun. I’m excited about what we can do. … We have a really mature team. They love playing football. It’s a good culture. It’s the type of kids they recruit. Kalani [Sitake] isn’t too soft. He holds us accountable. But he let’s us go play ball and that’s important. No one has a big ego on this staff.”

And the sixth: Slovis is eager to master playing quarterback at a school where many quarterbacks before him have prospered. He knows the names — McMahon, Young, Bosco, Detmer, et al., but also some of the more recent guys — Hill, Wilson and Hall.

“That’s the kind of group you want to live up to,” he says.

As for being the center of attention on campus, as many BYU quarterbacks have been, he’s OK with that. NBD. Having once been BMOC at USC, he sort of knows what that feels like, the praise and the pressure that comes with it. “You just want to be a good player and a good person, as a role model,” he says.

And far past solely setting himself up to realize the framed draft reminder in his room, Slovis says, as mentioned, he isn’t dialed in on advancing himself at all costs, bouncing back from so-so seasons sandwiched between his freshman and senior years, underscoring that his primary objective at BYU surrounds two accomplishments: “To have a good offense and to win a Big 12 championship.”

“Tough, but achievable goals,” he says.

The seventh thing: He no longer thinks BYU is “weird.” Well, he does, but in a more positive sense. He says everybody’s weird in their own way, himself included. And that’s all good. He once stood in as the frontman for a rock band in high school that competed in a local music competition, much to the unintended amusement of his teammates. You’ve heard the story about the podcast on which Slovis, as USC’s QB, said Provo is an odd place, comparing it to the fake world set up in “The Truman Show.” Those statements resurfaced in a big way after he chose to finish his college ball at BYU.

Slovis is not a member of the LDS Church, nor did he grow up with religion as a measurable part of his life. He’s growing accustomed, though, to the quirks, to the environment at the church-owned school, and, he says, not minding it.

“He’s thriving with football and socially,” Roderick says. “I always thought he’d have a better chance of succeeding in football if he’s happy away from it. And he is. After spring ball ended, he came up to me and said, ‘This is the coolest team I’ve ever been on.’ …”

The coordinator pauses, and says in so many words, just wait until fall camp and the season proper.

“… He likes to cut the ball loose, to let it rip down the field. He’ll be able to do that here. That’s what we want him to do.”

The eighth and slightly altered lyrical thing: Slovis has learned from his past experiences, learned to appreciate the highs and the lows, the soaring and the skidding, in large part because he can take those lessons, embrace them, and use them to his advantage moving on. As a Beatles fan, he knows the famous words and is ready to live, if not sing them: And in the end, the love [for football] you take is equal to the love [for football] you make.

Not even the Honor Code Office can gripe about that line.

Editor’s note • This story is available to Salt Lake Tribune subscribers only. Thank you for supporting local journalism.