All around her, Mackenzie McGovern felt the warm embrace of an unlikely cross-town alliance. A balloon arch, brought by the wife of her dad’s UCLA football boss, filled the air inside her Redondo Beach home while balloon pillars towered above the driveway. A spread of pasta, chicken, salad and Bundt cakes was provided by the wife of another UCLA colleague.
Not to be outdone, wives of four USC football coaches set up a mimosa bar to celebrate the occasion on that early June evening. Ten families of Trojans and Bruins gathered for photos, no one minding that some marked their allegiances by breaking out a two-fingered victory salute and others by holding fours-up. They were all one on this night.
Mackenzie had just graduated from high school, only two days after delivering a eulogy at the funeral of her father, Bill, the Bruins’ former defensive coordinator who was laid to rest in his native New Jersey after a nearly yearlong battle with cancer. This would not be a pity party but a reminder that those who leave us want to cherish what we still have.
“The whole night I wasn’t thinking about how I don’t have my dad,” Mackenzie remembered, “I was thinking about how I had all these amazing people that love and care for my whole family and were there for us.”
True to his scrappy nature, Bill tried to downplay the words that frightened everyone else: Stage 4 kidney cancer.
He received the diagnosis after suffering a seizure in July 2022, five months after he had agreed to become the Bruins’ defensive coordinator and only weeks before the start of fall training camp. The seizure was a result of the cancer having spread to other parts of his body, including his brain.
Bill was in New Jersey at the time, the moving truck having commenced its cross-country voyage the previous day. His new boss and old friend needed to know what happened.
“I don’t mean to alarm you, I had a small seizure,” Bill told UCLA coach Chip Kelly over the phone. “But I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
Kelly knew Bill well enough to understand he wasn’t about to turn in his headset. They both were endowed with New England toughness going back to their days playing college football, Kelly as an undersized defensive back at New Hampshire and Bill as a star defensive back at Holy Cross who intercepted a Doug Flutie pass on the day the Boston College quarterback was awarded the 1984 Heisman Trophy.
Before reuniting in Westwood, they worked together for three seasons when Kelly was the Philadelphia Eagles coach. Bill served as Kelly’s outside linebackers coach, known for his self-deprecating humor and easygoing nature that allowed him to connect with anyone he met.
Now facing his biggest challenge, Bill wanted a plan. He went through the Bruins’ schedule to see when it would be best to schedule immunotherapy treatments.
“Billy, our schedule doesn’t mean anything,” Kelly said during his eulogy, recalling their conversation. “He said, ‘No, no, no, bro. This isn’t about me.’ And I said, ‘If it’s not about you, then who’s it about?’”
Bill didn’t want anyone outside his immediate family and the UCLA coaching staff to know he was sick because he didn’t want his three daughters or his players to have to answer questions about his illness. It wouldn’t be long before there would be no more hiding the fact that something was terribly wrong.
The McGoverns are football lifers. Bill made 13 stops as part of a 38-year coaching career, the sacrifice of that journey illustrated by the sign that his second wife, Colleen, has hung in more than a handful of homes reading “WE INTERRUPT THIS MARRIAGE TO BRING YOU FOOTBALL SEASON.”
Whenever they can, coaches return the favor for the constant disruption and all those hours spent away from home. There’s an unwritten rule in coaching that once children who have been dragged from one place to another reach high school, they get to decide whether their fathers take a new job that requires another move.
When he spent the 2021 season as the Chicago Bears inside linebackers coach, Bill lived in a Residence Inn within two miles of the team’s practice facility so that his middle daughter, Delainey, could spend her senior year at the New Jersey high school where she was captain of the field hockey and lacrosse teams.
With Delainey headed for the University of New Hampshire by the time her dad was offered the UCLA job, that put Bill’s fate as a Bruin in the hands of Mackenzie, his youngest daughter who would be going into her senior year of high school.
Mackenzie never wavered in her decision: Westwood ho!
“I just thought, I’m not going to let my dad not have this great opportunity,” Mackenzie said, “because I want to stay at my high school.”
Once the McGoverns reached Southern California, they set about their new-home ritual of finding places that reminded Bill of northern New Jersey, where he had grown up. Bill quickly adopted Paisano’s thin-crust pizza and Handel’s chocolate-chip ice cream as his favorites, often slipping Mackenzie money unbeknownst to Colleen for an ice cream run.
“My mom would get so mad at me,” Mackenzie said, alluding to her mom wanting her dad to watch his weight, “because we’d go every night.”
Delainey, known in the family as her dad’s twin because of the strong resemblance, also shared his love for football. They would watch game film together, her knowledge of the sport far deeper than most of her male friends.
Even though they were thousands of miles apart with Delainey in college, she would FaceTime her dad constantly so that they could discuss her work as an intern for the New Hampshire football team. Bill would listen intently as Delainey described each day, giving instant feedback.
The family immediately enjoyed a strong support network of UCLA football coaches and their wives. Jill Kelly, Shannon Drevno and Hilary Gunderson made home visits and delivered food whenever Bill had treatments. Jill and Chip Kelly organized a team called Biking for Billy as part of a cancer fundraiser. Coaches gave Bill rides home from work because he couldn’t drive and showed up at the McGovern home on prom night to take photos with Mackenzie.
They all figured they would eventually gather for another celebration, welcoming Bill home after he had beaten the cancer.
“We really thought all along, all of us,” Colleen said, “that he was going to win this fight.”
Battling his illness until the end, Bill would soon have another group urging him to fight on.
At most coaching stops, the McGoverns never experienced any interaction with the families of their rivals because of distance. Boston College’s rival, Connecticut, resided in another state. Pittsburgh’s rival, Penn State, was 2½ hours across the state. Philadelphia’s rival, the New York Giants, was also a few hours away.
That’s not the case in Los Angeles, where the proximity of many UCLA and USC coaching families is often much closer than the roughly 14 miles between the schools. Many settle in the South Bay, giving them opportunities to run into one another at restaurants, grocery stores and beaches.
The spark that connected the McGoverns with their new extended family was a text message chain including a mutual friend of Colleen McGovern and Becky Grinch, the wife of USC defensive coordinator Alex Grinch. The coaches wives began discussing Mackenzie’s struggles with her adjustment to Southern California. Becky mentioned that Kate Henson, the daughter of USC offensive coordinator Josh Henson, was also having a hard time after recently moving from College Station, Texas.
Bill McGovern, a longtime acquaintance of UCLA coach Chip Kelly, is staying true to himself and his players as he tries to fix UCLA’s defensive woes.
Mackenzie invited Kate to have ice cream and after a few times hanging out, they became inseparable. Mackenzie began to confide in Kate about her dad’s illness, starting a chain reaction that would result in USC coaches’ wives Caitlin Riley, Shauna Henson, Becky Grinch and Mackenzie Odom sending food deliveries and prayerful messages.
“Kenzie would say, ‘Oh, my dad’s in the hospital,’” Colleen McGovern said, “and within minutes I’d get a text from these four women on their staff saying, ‘What can we do? Tell us what you need.’”
The USC coaches had experienced a similar tragedy in early 2022 when receivers coach Dave Nichol died of cancer shortly after joining their staff.
“Listen, we all compete against each other and all that,” USC coach Lincoln Riley said of supporting the McGoverns, “but we’re kind of our own little community of coaches and we all know what each other goes through, the challenges that this job brings not only for us, the coaches, but even more so for our families and so you kind of felt like you were just kind of right there with them the whole way.”
Bill soldiered on through the season’s first two months, presiding over a defense that showed improvement from previous years as UCLA won six of its first seven games.
Then came a startling setback. The night before the Bruins faced Stanford on Oct. 29 at the Rose Bowl, Bill suffered another seizure during a team meeting. He missed the next five games while trying to stay connected to the team, watching from the windows of the practice facility and helping in-game planning whenever his health permitted.
After Bill’s release from one hospital stay the day before the USC game on Nov. 19, Jill Kelly was waiting at the McGovern home with dinner for the family. Bill pleaded his case to return to the sideline for the rivalry game, saying he knew he could coach the next day.
“I don’t think Dr. Chip’s going to allow you to coach,” Jill Kelly told him, “so just get your rest.”
Sufficiently recovered, Bill coached in the Sun Bowl in late December and declared that he “absolutely” planned to return as defensive coordinator in 2023, but by February it became clear that it would be difficult after worsening leg weakness.
Colleen suggested that maybe he could navigate the field on a golf cart. Bill hated the idea of being reduced to that.
“He was a fighter, he was very proud,” Colleen said, her voice catching, “but he was humble, humble, humble — the most humble person I’ve ever met in my life.”
Bill agreed to cede his duties as defensive coordinator in favor of a less taxing role as director of football administration. He attended spring practices, walking with a heavy limp.
By early May, Bill was back in the hospital. Pneumonia had developed in one lung, then the other. He was getting weaker and sleeping more.
Mackenzie’s prom was quickly approaching and she figured her dad wouldn’t get to see her in her red dress. She was going to the dance with Caden Wylie, the son of USC director of sports performance Bennie Wylie, after Kate had introduced them to one another. Kate suggested the girls put on their dresses, get their hair done and surprise Mackenzie’s dad in his room at Ronald Reagan Medical Center.
Savoring a long glance at his daughter, Bill told Mackenzie she looked beautiful and broke out in a wide smile before the girls left the room, his day having been unexpectedly brightened.
“Kate and I were there for only probably 20 minutes,” Mackenzie said, “but it was such a meaningful thing.”
By late May, the inevitable outcome hung over the family. Colleen asked Bill if he wanted to go home for his final days. He readily agreed.
Bill came home on a Thursday and died the following Tuesday, slipping away peacefully while surrounded by Colleen, Mackenzie, Delainey, his brother Rob and niece Sheila. He was only 60.
At the funeral, Mackenzie gave a heartfelt tribute to the dad she called her best friend.
“I’m not going to stand up here and say Amanda, Delainey, mom and I are fine — because we’re not,” Mackenzie said. “But I will say this: You fought your hardest fight, you lived your life to the fullest and now you can rest. … Our big crazy family and our football families have us.”
With her graduation falling on the day after she returned from the funeral, Mackenzie conveyed to Kate and Caden that she didn’t want to be alone that night. A plan was hatched to invite the UCLA and USC families who had become part of hers.
The house was decorated, the food delivered, the mood festive as Bruins and Trojans mingled deep into the night.
“It was great, a lot of people obviously from both staffs there and had a great time celebrating her and celebrating coach’s life,” Lincoln Riley said. “It was kind of cool to see, put the rivalry and the competitiveness and all that off to the side and just focus on things that are way more important than that.”
The McGoverns will soon disperse, Colleen returning to New Jersey to be closer to family. Mackenzie is headed to Indiana, where she will study sports management and marketing as a freshman in the fall. The entire family will return to the Rose Bowl on Sept. 2 for a ceremony honoring Bill during UCLA’s season opener against Coastal Carolina.
In a fortuitous twist, the Bruins and Trojans will both regularly visit Indiana starting in 2024 as new members of the Big Ten Conference. Mackenzie considers herself a fan of both teams given the love she felt from those rivals across town.
“My biggest issue after my dad passed away was everyone looked at me like, oh, poor you, like a pity cause and they’ve never made us feel that way once; they’ve made us feel like family,” Mackenzie said. “They just made us all feel like we had a huge support system and we were not alone in this.”
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