In the heart of Michigan’s snow-covered winter, Andrew Gentry sat by the window of his dorm room, the Michigan skyline stretching out before him. The Big House, home to the Wolverines, was barely visible in the distance, but it felt like a lifetime away. Just a few months ago, he was riding high, living his dream of playing football for one of the most storied programs in college football history. But now, after months of inner struggle, his world was about to change.
He wasn’t the first to transfer out of Michigan. There were whispers in the locker room, some bitter and others understanding, but Andrew’s decision wasn’t based on anything the outside world could grasp. It was a decision woven into the fabric of his faith, his identity as a Latter-day Saint, and a pull to something deeper than just football. He had always known that his path wasn’t going to follow a typical trajectory, and today, that path was leading him to BYU.
The letter had come in the form of a simple email. It wasn’t flashy or dramatic, but it carried a weight that Andrew couldn’t ignore. BYU had extended a hand, inviting him to bring his talents to Provo, a place where faith and football intertwined seamlessly. It wasn’t the easiest decision; it wasn’t even the most popular one among his teammates. But as he stared out the window, Andrew realized he couldn’t ignore the pull any longer. The decision wasn’t just about football—it was about purpose. It was about aligning his spiritual journey with his athletic career, something that Michigan couldn’t offer the way BYU could.
He thought about the long hours of practice, the weight of the Michigan jersey, and the intensity of the Big Ten. Yet, in the quiet moments, Andrew had always felt something missing. In Michigan, his faith had been a side note. His mission—his purpose in life—was to serve others, to live in a way that reflected his values. But it wasn’t easy to do that in the fast-paced, high-stakes world of college football. He wanted a place where his spiritual life wasn’t just a footnote; it was part of the story, woven into every game, every practice, every play.
BYU wasn’t just a school. It was a homecoming. It was where athletes like him could bring their full selves—faith, values, and talent—into harmony. He had visited Provo as a kid, attended church services there with his family. The mountains surrounding the campus felt like a beacon, a symbol of strength, clarity, and focus. BYU wasn’t just recruiting his skills on the field; they were inviting him to bring his whole self into the program. It was an opportunity to grow as a man, a player, and as a son of God.
The next morning, Andrew called Coach Harbaugh to inform him of his decision. It was a tough conversation—one filled with gratitude and respect—but it was clear that Andrew’s heart was no longer in Michigan. Football, to him, had always been a vehicle to express more than just athleticism. He needed to play in an environment where he felt seen, understood, and supported, where his spiritual journey was just as important as his success on the field.
A few weeks later, Andrew found himself boarding a plane to Provo, carrying with him the hope of an entire community and a sense of purpose that transcended the game. The weight of his decision still lingered, but in his heart, he knew it was the right one. The mountains of Provo rose in the distance as the plane descended, a symbol of the new chapter that awaited him. His journey had only just begun.