Let's say there's a top national prep recruit who has included Brigham Young on his list of football programs he's considering for his college career, wedging the Cougars right in there with, say, USC and Notre Dame. Some in the know even confirm that BYU has the edge.

He's exactly the kind of player, maybe a linebacker, the Cougars need to boost their sometimes-questionable athleticism, especially on defense, and lift their level from a real nice Mountain West outfit to a true national presence, capable of breaking into a BCS bowl and winning it.

That is, after all, one of BYU's stated goals, and why more than 60,000 fans pay their money and show up at LaVell Edwards Stadium on Saturday afternoons, to be a part of great football.

So, the Cougars recruit the kid hard. They want him for the same reasons everybody wants him, and even more. Not only is he fast and strong and good, projected to be great, he also is LDS, a young guy who has already moved past barriers that might prevent most athletes of his caliber from seriously considering BYU.

He's not perfect, but the notion and purpose of the LDS Church-owned school, the whole drill, is more than familiar to him, it's maybe even appealing to him, a big part of what he wants to be.

Going to religion classes is no problem for him. A church mission? The thought has crossed his mind. Calling professors Brother So-And-So or Sister Whatchamacallit seems natural.

To him, the place isn't out of another world. It's comfortable.

Let's say he has friends and family members, not only at the school, but also on the team.

With USC all over him, making concessions to him in order to draw the recruit in, he comes to Provo on his recruiting trip in the weeks leading up to signing day, and something veers off course.

Let's say he makes a mistake, and somehow runs afoul of the honor code, BYU's infamous behavioral rules that take LDS Church standards and amplify them to a different level, with strictures and consequences that often are more stringent than what would normally be applied to or adhered by rank-and-file church members. Think of it as LDS standards on steroids.

Anyway, the kid hypothetically messes up, and another recruit sees him and tells Brother … um, Coach … Mendenhall about it, and there's trouble from there, an investigation that involves current players on the team and, even worse, prompts the star recruit to subsequently announce that BYU has been scratched off his list.

That's a Cougar killer.

BYU needs this guy, just as much as this guy might need BYU, and, on that last part, not just for football.

If the Cougars want their program at a top competitive level, they have to get this kind of athlete. They get by pretty well on the typical recruits with which they usually build, but when an exceptional LDS player comes around, one who actually seems to want to go to BYU, they can't whiff on guys like that.

Even if the recruit isn't perfect off the field.

BYU walks a fine line there. It does not want to be seen as disingenuous or hypocritical, especially in high-profile cases. It has its standards and many of them could be seen by people of all different kinds and beliefs as admirable.

But college kids -- and recruits -- aren't perfect, not even at BYU. They make mistakes. They sign the honor code and agree to live by it, but more than a few of them stumble along the way, early or late.

Not every athlete, LDS or not, is right for BYU. BYU isn't right for every athlete, LDS or not. They can and do have fantastic experiences and careers at other schools that offer as much or more for them as BYU does. But, if they want to go to BYU, the experience there, on the whole, can help a lot of athletes who have their flaws, who agree to a certain standard and, then, in the specific, fall short.

They're humans, not automatons.

I've interviewed athletes at BYU who talked about their private screw-ups and how they overcame those problems with the help of an ecclesiastical leader who was wise enough to keep word of the screw-ups away from the honor code office. Those athletes went on toward living great lives, as they saw fit. Imperfect though they were, they benefited in a big way from the overall atmosphere at the school. And their subsequent lives stand as proof.

Hypocrisy, not good.

Helping people's lives, good.

And the latter doesn't necessarily include or imply the former.

At BYU, zealots should take a hike.

Let's say that two Cougar coaches, as we speak, are still in close contact with said recruit and trying to smooth things over. That's an appropriate thing for them to do. That's what they should always do, work with them, for all recruits, no matter how many stars are attached to their names.

The potentially great ones, the recruits that might want what BYU offers, even if they haven't yet completely mastered the honor code in every way, are worth helping because, more often than not, they'll help BYU back. Besides that, it's the Christian thing to do.

GORDON MONSON hosts "The Monson and Graham Show" weekdays from 2-6 p.m. on 1280 AM The Zone. He can be reached at gmonson@sltrib.com.