And so we continue our interview with Vai Sikahema with questions on his chosen professions.
3. You’ve had great success in your chosen professions, first as a football player and now as a sportscaster. You played on a national championship team (BYU 1984), you played for the NFL and now you are a successful sportscaster for NBC in the Philadelphia area. What do you think has played the largest role in your successes and why?
I suspect because my parents didn’t have a college education, and they constantly shared with us their frustration of having to work menial jobs – simply to make a point that without a college education, we’d be destined to share their fate – as children, we recognized in a very real way, the hazards of their plight.
They also taught us some rather unique and interesting things that to me, are blessings that are often lost on members of the Church.
For instance, I vividly remember my mother motioning towards a dignified, educated and well-to-do member during a stake service project where we were picking fruit on a Church farm and saying to me, “Son, the Church is the one place where the millionaire and the immigrant work arm-in-arm.”
Then, she told me to leave her side, take a basket to this particular brother, help him, but more importantly, to talk and get to know him. As I reluctantly left her side, she said to me, “He can teach you things that your father and I can’t ever teach you.”
She was absolutely right.
My mother recognized that one of the unique aspects of the gospel is that it places people of our socio-economic level with people of means and education in a setting where both are completely at ease with one another. That doesn’t happen in country clubs, social clubs or at work.
It wasn’t that my mother was a social climber. Far from it. But she instinctively knew that successful people in the Church would offer guidance and encouragement.
Incidentally, the man she motioned for me to pick fruit with that day, later became became my bishop. He owned a successful construction company and because of the friendship we enjoyed, he shared much of his principles of success with me.
Likewise, my mission president was a brigadier general in the Air Force.
My mother was right; if not for the Church, I wouldn’t have dreamed of being in the presence of this caliber of men. At 19, had I been in the Air Force, is there any chance I would be in a brigadier general’s radar screen? No way. But as a missionary, not only was I in his presence, I received special instruction from him, had numerous opportunities to confide in him and he in me. I ate in his home. I watched and learned what made him successful – and realized that his membership in the church was a big reason why he was a successful military man.
My parents taught us to look for and recognize the “human angels” who would guide and help us. They pointed out that not all of these angels would be members of the Church.
They also taught us that the alternative to success was the life in which we grew up. And though they wouldn’t think so, from our standpoint as children, it wasn’t at all bad. In fact, we have great memories of our youth, despite and quite possibly, because of our poverty. So, in effect, as children, we never feared failure. If our upbringing was “failure”, then I’d wish it upon my own children.
In both of my careers, I found mentors who went out of their way to help me in meaningful ways.
LaVell Edwards at BYU and the man who drafted me into the NFL, Gene Stallings, are cut out of the same cloth, honest, relentless and God-fearing.
A local television producer in Phoenix, Jim LeMay, worked with me and taught me the fundamentals of TV. It launched a new career that eased the transition and letdown of leaving football, something most of my contemporaries never quite get over.
I also met a woman at BYU whom I married when she was only 18 and I was 21. My wife, Keala, never doubted that I would succeed at either of my careers.
Most of all, for reasons beyond my comprehension, the Lord has always been extremely generous to me.
4. As a Latter-day Saint, was it ever difficult to maintain your standards in the NFL? If so, why? If not, why?
Never. Ever. My friend, Chad Lewis, the former All-Pro tight end of the Philadelphia Eagles, would often say that the NFL life will draw out one’s inclinations. Meaning, if you are inclined to drink alcohol, do drugs or cheat on your wife, the NFL life will offer more opportunities than you could shake a stick at.
If, on the other hand, you are inclined to live the gospel, the NFL life will offer so many opportunities to do so, it is both humbling and incredible. Simply because of our pre-occupation as a society with professional football and the amazing reach the NFL has to a global audience, as well as the salaries players have.
When I was drafted 20 years ago this week into the NFL, like Chad, I had already served a mission, was married and we had a child. Indeed, life in the NFL is treacherous for anyone, but especially the young player who has no core values. But despite the hazards, what most people don’t know about the NFL, is that in every locker room, there are factions of Christians, partiers, drug addicts, adulterers and so forth.
It wasn’t that difficult to live Church standards because I naturally gravitated to those who lived similar lifestyles. Of course, it was much easier when the most prominent members of the team were Christians – as was the case in my years with the Philadelpia Eagles – when Hall of Famer Reggie White, always chided teammates and coaches for using the Lord’s name in vain.
To Be Continued —