A boy loses his father, and life changes forever. He can be 3 or 33 or 73, it doesn’t matter.
Todd Leavens died Oct. 12 at the age of 53. Now, Marana High School senior quarterback Connor Leavens is the man of the house. He is 18 years old, just barely passing through the fictional threshold of manhood, and he is about to set out on his own, ready to smash headfirst into life. He is mature beyond his years, and this could not have just happened in the last 10 days. But what a 10 days it was.
Two days after his father died, Leavens started against San Tan Valley Poston Butte and shined, throwing for 378 yards and four touchdowns in a 52-14 win. He completed 16 of 18 passes, lifting the Tigers to 6-2.
It was, in so many ways, the game of his life.
Five days later, he buried his father. Friday, he’ll play against Desert View, once more honoring the memory of the man who taught him football.
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Connor Leavens talked to the Star on Thursday about life after death and football. Here’s what he said, in his own words:
“Yesterday was a wave of emotions. Friends, family friends, my dad’s friends from back in the day were there. It was a beautiful day. If anything, it was a celebration of life, not being sad about losing somebody. He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
“I feel a little different today. Yesterday was a time for everyone to celebrate him, and now the noise is starting to die down. I’m in shock a little bit. It feels like he’s on vacation. The one thing I told my mom is there’s never going to be a time we get over it, when we get better with it. We just learn to live around the gaping space.
“The thing is, when I spoke at the funeral, I said I didn’t think I’d have to exist in a world he didn’t exist in. He was my best friend. There are so many aspects of life he was so important to me. That’s why I say I’m in shock. I won’t be able to see him again. I’m getting into adulthood, learning how to live life, learning how to have a lot of responsibility. I told him, I need you to be a big part of my life, I need you and mom to help me through it, and we talked about it.
“He was such a huge part of my success. I wish he could be here to see what the next step is. That’s just another thing. Not in a sense that I’m on my own, but he was always the one who kept me driven. The one to tell me what to do next. Now that’s something I have to learn. That’s a big responsibility for me. It’s going to be very different. Over the next course of the next months, it’s going to seem odd to me.
“I have a sister McKenna, 17, and two half-siblings, a half-brother who’s 10 and a half-sister who is 4. I sat down with McKenna, and we talked about what was going on, and I said I feel terrible that she won’t get to grow up with a dad. A father-daughter relationship is super-special, and I told her I’d be a father figure to her the best I can. I told her I would give her away at her wedding someday.
“I just turned 18 in September, and I told my mom, it’s weird he passed right after I turned 18. I know I’m only a year older than 17, exactly the guy I was six months ago. But six months ago, I didn’t think I’d be in that position. You have a dad around, and you feel safety and security. Someone who has their arms out for you.
“My mom and her brother Korey lost their dad when they were my age, so she’s having a really tough time. It’s all too familiar to her. My uncle, he was 18 like me, and she was 17, just like my sister, and that’s something, right? That’s weird. The thing I just tell her is there’s no right or wrong way to handle this. She’s gotten in a couple arguments, everyone’s on edge, but the reasons everyone is coming looking for answers is she always has them. She’s a mom, she’s superwoman to us. Right now, she doesn’t have answers, just like the rest of us. There’s a time to grieve and a time to be strong. There’s no right or wrong way to handle a situation. She tried to tell me to keep talking about it, keep the memory alive. We want them to be good memories. I told her, it’s OK, the emptiness … it will still be there, but you’ll learn to live around it.
“Playing football for me was something we shared my entire life, and without him, I have no idea where I’d be with it, or with anything. That’s the reason I’m so motivated for this game. That’s why I went and played on Friday. I wouldn’t be doing justice to him if I didn’t play. Carrying the burden of him being gone — the rest of the season, the rest of my career playing ball is to finish what we started. That was the best thing I could ever do, which was make him proud. I loved to make him proud. That’s what the journey is about now. Making him proud.
“Last Friday, I walked into the locker room on game day — I’d been at practice the day before, and I couldn’t focus. I was really shaken up. But on Friday, I taped a picture of me and my dad on my locker, and I stared at it a little bit. Right before I walked out — I was the last one to leave — I sat and looked at the picture again. I said thank you for everything, and I kissed the picture and I walked out.
“That entire time was like a calm before the storm. I dropped to a knee, said a prayer to him. I was talking to him the entire game. He’d always say, ‘It’s time to go to work. Don’t worry about me, just keep trucking.’
“I pray every night before I go to bed, not even being religious, but just as a way to talk to my dad. I have whole conversations with him. I vividly remember how his voice sounds. I can sit there and talk for hours. It’s incredible.
“I know physically he’ll never be here, but I can always just talk to him. I know that’s something we’ll share. For the rest of my life, I’ll ask him for help, for guidance. That’s going to be pretty special.”

