alt=Dick HarmonMick Hill’s trade wasn’t architecture, laying brick, carpentry or lecturing a class. His craft was Nike, Riddell, Schutt, Wilson, Spalding and Titleist and all genres of swag, mountains of it.
Talk to Mick. Ask Mick. Mick will know. We will have to check with Mick. See what Mick says. Where did Mick put it?
Those were the endless calls that echoed throughout locker rooms and sidelines the past four decades around BYU athletics. It will be no more.
Mick Hill, one of the most respected athletic equipment managers in the NCAA, is retiring from BYU this spring. He replaced the late legendary Floyd Johnson, a beloved department apostle, preacher, mender of cloth and souls.
If you knew Floyd, you’d understand just how tough Hill’s job was to follow him in the business.
But he did.
Johnson died Feb. 14, 2002, at the age of 83.
Hill is part of a dying breed of BYU employees who worked firsthand with LaVell Edwards, Glen Tuckett, Gary Pullins, Karl Tucker and other long-gone figures on campus. Things have changed so much. When former football players come to town or call to make a connection, they usually dial up Hill. Most everyone else has retired or passed away.
Hill’s job was to supervise the reception and distribution of tens of thousands of pieces of sports equipment, from socks to helmets, face guards to shoulder pads, and to move tons of stuff to every football game from Hawaii to Miami and all parts in between.
The small index cards he created to inventory player gear has been replaced by spreadsheets and sophisticated databases. It’s a job that begins days before kickoff and ends far after a game is over. And every new season is like a Walmart store got dumped on its head.
A quiet, humble, easygoing personality, Hill says of all the jerseys and warmups he’s handed out to the faces of stars and underlings, of all the great moments, thrills, wins and defeats he’s witnessed, and of all the emotional locker room secrets he’s kept private, his most cherished treasures are the relationships.
From his mutual interest in hunting and fishing with Heisman Trophy winner Ty Detmer, to Steve Young’s vibrant personality and intellect to that one week golf coach Karl Tucker asked him to be the acting coach at a tournament on the road with future Masters champion Mike Weir, it is the relationships Hill will take with him.
He remembers back to the day when two offensive linemen, John Borgia and Brian Rodoni, who were not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, had nothing to do on Sundays when teammates were involved in meetings. Back then, a staff member could have players over for dinner and he invited both over for roast beef and potatoes — the whole spread. After eats, they’d go across the street to a driveway hoop and play basketball with a neighbor. It became a weekly routine and to this day both Borgia and Rodoni call him routinely and check in.
Rodoni emailed Hill the day he announced his retirement. For many like Rodoni, Hill represents a lifeline to his college life.
One day not too long ago Brad Clark, a former nondescript defensive back at BYU who had kind of a rebel edge to him and was once injured on a trip to Lake Powell, showed up at his door. Hill hadn’t seen Clark in 15 years and invited him in.
“What are you up to these days?” asked Hill.
“You’d never believe what I’m doing. You’d never guess,” said Clark.
“Tell, me,” said Hill.
“I work in the temple.”
“You have a temple recommend?” asked Hill.
“I’m the recorder at the Mesa Arizona LDS temple,” said Clark.
He was right, Hill had remembered Clark as a mixed-up kid, searching.
“It’s so amazing to see many of these players grow up and become successful businessmen, doctors, fathers, husbands and leaders,” said Hill.
Many remember tight end Byron Rex getting in trouble for some unsportsmanlike behavior during a game at Hawaii. That may be all folks remember of Rex. But Hill got to see something different, his exaltation and celebration and hugs and tears in the locker room that night, celebrating a big win that meant so much to him.
“Now his son Isaac is here and he caught 12 touchdowns this season, something his dad never did his entire career. It’s things like that that I remember. How many sons of players are coming through right now, Rex, the Fowlers (Blaine), the Tuipulotus (Peter) and Redden (Matt). It is a remarkable thing to see.”
After Johnson retired, he volunteered to work alongside Hill for 20 years and like most of Hill’s favorite stories, his cherished memories from that time have nothing to do with victories, game-winning touchdowns or screaming crowds.
Hill would come to work before sunrise in the early ’80s and there was Floyd, a legendary figure among BYU athletes for decades, reading the scriptures, a chair pulled up to a sewing machine as he did laundry in huge industrial machines. Johnson would invite Hill to chat, talk about life. Then they’d play racquetball, sometimes with athletes. After showering and dressing, Hill would help Johnson put on his compression socks.
That vivid scene would seem silly to most, but it became etched inside of Hill, kind of serving his master teacher, a humble God-fearing personality whose daily life revolved around dispensing love to others.
“Mick is one of the people behind the scenes of BYU football that has been part of making the program and the culture so great for so long,” said BYU director of athletics Tom Holmoe. “Mick’s first full season here was my senior year in 1982, so I’ve had the privilege of seeing how much impact one person can make from start to finish. On behalf of all of us in BYU Athletics, I can’t thank Mick, Melanie and their family enough for all they have contributed to BYU over his incredible career.”
BYU officially named its athletic equipment offices in the Student Athlete Building the “Mick Hill and Floyd Johnson Equipment Room.”
“I think naming our equipment room to honor Mick and Floyd Johnson is such a deserving tribute to the tremendous impact both of these great men have had on BYU football for so long,” BYU football coach Kalani Sitake said.
“As a player, I had a personal connection with both Mick and Floyd as they helped mentor me and all of my teammates,” he continued. “I am really thankful for the time Mick put in to help me develop from a young man into an adult. When I became the head coach, I was excited to have the chance to work with Mick. He is a man of faith and is a great family man. You can see it in the way he conducts his life. It’s an honor for me to know him and be around him. I’m happy for him that he gets to retire, but I’m going to miss him dearly.”
Hill might be going over the hill this spring but a complete generation of Cougar athletes who never met, don’t know, never heard of Floyd Johnson will never know what they missed.
Because they had Mick Hill.