Remembering My Best Friend – Dusty Litster

‘‘Do you guys even like each other?’

That was the typical question Dusty and I would receive from our wives as soon as a phone call between us was over. It was a fair question. Our conversations typically included one to two important questions separated by about fifteen insults and at least one “this is why I have to do everything myself.”

It’s these conversations that I am going to miss the most.

There is an old adage that states you should never go into business with your friends. The thought behind it is that eventually decisions will need to be made regarding finances, directives, and the future that could cause animosity between those involved which can lead to fractures in those friendships. While that may be true, the only thing I can say to those who believe that is “go out and get yourself a Dusty.”

When Dusty and I first met in 2007 we were paired together to produce college football recaps. He would stay up in the warm press box enjoying the free food while I was stuck on the sidelines shooting the entire game. One memorable game was at Utah where the temperature at kickoff was 34 degrees and by halftime it was well below freezing. I spent that halftime huddled up with several other camera guys inside of a bathroom because it was the only place that was even kind of warm in order to try and regain the feeling in my hands. With about two minutes to go in the game I see Dusty walking onto the field with a big smile on his face and the first thing out of his mouth was, ‘‘Holy hannah! I’m glad I didn’t have to be out here for the whole game in this,’’ immediately followed by ‘’dude, they had the BEST cookies up there during halftime!’’

You may think that those were statements from someone who was completely out of touch with his surroundings, but behind those words was an acknowledgment that he appreciated me, even if it was hiding behind a sheepish grin on his face that still had chocolate all over it because he ‘accidentally’ ate the cookie he was saving for me.

In 2009, we were tasked with filming high school football games to be viewed as Video On Demand. To show how naive I was when it came to High School Sports, I brought one tape that had a total of 60 minutes to film on it with the thought of – surely it won’t be longer than an hour.

I set up in the stands at Timpview while Dusty formed an idea that since we had a wireless mic, he could call the game from the sideline instead of where I was setup. Before I could say otherwise he was on the sideline with the same sheepish grin giving me a thumbs up as if it had been my idea. I shot him a glare and shook my head, he laughed, took two steps, and immediately stepped in a divot and twisted his ankle.

Right as the game kicked off I realized I had forgotten my headphones and mid way through the first I realized I did not have enough tape to film the entire game. I knew the only way I would be able to record the whole thing was to start and stop recording between each play, but without headphones there was no way for me to be able to hear Dusty’s commentating to know when he was starting a play call or ending one.

So, I stopped and started what felt natural to me.

Imagine my surprise when I got home to edit the game and I realized that he and I went 3 full quarters where we were perfectly in sync. I was always recording when he started the play and I would always stay recording up to his natural pause of his cadence. We took what should have been an absolute train wreck and somehow formed the first iteration of High School Rewind.

By the time the 2009 football season ended we were filming 5-6 games every week and we were beginning to create content outside of live games. While I was happy to just continue what we were doing, Dusty was immediately working on ideas on how to do more and expand.

Enter Dane Stewart.

Dusty, having known Dane for a couple of years before I met them, knew that in order to build what he wanted to build he needed someone who cared as much as he did but also someone who wasn’t afraid to make fun of themselves. They were the perfect combination of seriousness and silliness and the way they could play off each other while staying informative was always a pleasure to watch in real time. Dusty and Dane had natural chemistry together and they had the ability to create content from anything. They had no problem laughing at each other, laughing at themselves, or leaning into their mistakes, and I was happy to create the mistakes that they would blame each other for.

We were committed to changing the narrative in sports coverage. It wasn’t about the clout or fame, it wasn’t about ego or the need to front run. It was all about giving high school kids their moment that they could relive for the rest of their lives without interjecting ourselves into their time while also creating a fun and loose environment that you could feel drawn to even if you didn’t know who we were.

Right before Dusty was diagnosed, I asked him would he rather call a game-winning shot between two teams he has no connection to or be a part of a team that won a championship. His answer embodied what we had always stood for. He said,”Knowing a dad somewhere down the road is replaying the shot he made to his kids and its my voice that helps make the moment feel like he conquered the world is an incredible thought to have.’’

It wasn’t something he just said. He truly believed that and embodied it.

If you wanted to see Dusty light up, all you had to do was watch him when a parent stopped him to thank him for covering their child when no one else did. Or how excited he was to talk about the number of broadcasters who started with Rewind and used it to springboard into a major broadcasting position. That’s who he was and its how he lived his life. He didn’t need to share your success as his own, he just wanted to celebrate it with you.

I was lucky enough to see Dusty at his highest of highs, including the night he first texted Megan after one of our broadcasts to set up their first date and when he had to leave a broadcast mid-game to go be at the hospital for the birth of two of their kids.

I also got to see him at some of the darkest times in his life. Like – BYU is down by 3 when they should be up by 30’ dark. The remarkable thing about Dusty was even at his lowest, he would always do something that would show me that he lived by what he said and he always practiced it.

A story that I never got to share with anyone was probably one of the lowest points in Dusty’s life and yet it is one of the most remarkable things I had ever been a part of. Dane and I were with Dusty the day his mom passed away. Most people don’t know this, but he got the news that she was passing right before we were about to broadcast a championship football game in St. George.

Dusty was obviously a wreck and while we kept telling him we could figure something out if he wanted to head back, he was adamant that it was a Championship game and we had to do it. Dane and I began forming a plan on how to address the broadcast if Dusty decided he didn’t want to call it but remarkably, 30 seconds before we went live Dusty took a deep breath, wiped away his tears, and called the game as if nothing was wrong. Every commercial break he would start crying or call one of his family members to check on them and then somehow every time we would go back on, he was ready and never let it affect his call.

After the game we drove the first hour in silence with Dane and I not knowing what to even say but that ultimately gave way to jokes and laughter. At one point I asked Dusty ‘’How did you get yourself into the mindset to be able to call the game?’’

His reply was ‘‘the kids on the field don’t need to know that I am having a bad day, and I don’t need to ruin their Championship moment by being sad’’.

That was Dusty.

I started this by repeating a question Dusty and I always got asked.

‘‘Do you guys even like each other?’’

The answer from day one has always been yes. To know Dusty was to love Dusty, and to know that I won’t be having another conversation with him where he tells me to ‘‘remember my headphones’’ or where I tell him ‘’See, I haven’t wanted to listen to you since the beginning’’ is a really hard reality to process.

I am who I am today because of him and I am going to miss him everyday. I can only hope to carry on the legacy he left and, as he would tell me, try to be ‘’1 percent less worse’’ than I was the day before.

I am going to truly miss you, buddy. Thank you for the example you set, for all of the laughs, and for being you. I love you.