A legendary high school football coach was laid to rest yesterday, and in the end nobody was talking about his coaching prowess or his victories; they were talking about what a gentleman and mentor he had been.

Thom Budge, the former Bonneville coach, was no Bobby Knight or Vince Lombardi. Didn't swear; didn't yell; didn't berate players or throw fits. Matt Williams, Budge's nephew and the man who replaced him as head coach, echoed a frequent refrain when he said, "As good a coach as he was, he was a better human being. Everyone wanted to be around him."

In the end, the old adage was true: It isn't whether you win or lose, but how you play the game, and Budge played it the right way. He was remembered for the right things.

Coaching was a forum for Budge, a way to work with youth and the game he loved. Yes, he won many games — he's the second winningest coach in Utah prep history — but, then, a coach won't have a team and kids to mentor and shape if he doesn't win, can he?

Budge retired four seasons ago and moved on to other things — family, gardening, helping out on the family farm, delivering tomatoes from his garden to neighbors, church work. There was a lot more to give. He and his wife Linda woke up last Wednesday morning and talked about what they were going to do with their day. Then he collapsed with a heart attack and was gone.

"He was a wonderful man; I loved him," said Linda.

What better tribute could a man — or a coach — ask for than that?

Williams received text messages and e-mails from around the state offering condolences and remembrances. Players and coaches remembered him as calm, kind, respectful and knowledgeable. A former collegiate all-America once noted that you can hope to get two things from a high school football coach: A man who was good with Xs and Os and/or a man who was a good leader of young men. Usually you get one or the other, not both, he noted. Bonneville got both with Budge.

"I think I heard him yell once during my eight years as his assistant," says Williams. "He and an assistant were mad at each other and Thom said something like, 'What's your lineman doing!" That was it. If a kid dropped a pass, he'd put his hand on his shoulder when he came to the sideline, and all he'd say was, 'That's a pass you should have caught.'"

Budge's death had a personal meaning for me. When I heard the news of his passing, I couldn't help but reflect upon my grandfather, Rulon Budge — Thom Budge's uncle and my mother's father. There were many similarities, and I hope you'll indulge the comparison.