Back in the stone ages when I went to BYU, most practices were de facto open to the public. No indoor facility, there was just a big grassy field enclosed with high brush, but almost every practice, the gate was left wide open, and a group of students often gathered there, sometimes including me. No one brushed us away, if there were reporters there, I didn't see them. Different time (1979-81), I suppose.
I remember watching the various units going through their drills. LaVell sat in his golf cart comparing notes with a few assistants. He really did let his assistants run the show and mostly just sat observing or talking to them. I might have recognized a few of the assistants, but time has erased the memory.
Something was muffed on a drill, suddenly LaVell's head whipped around and he yelled loud enough to be heard clearly by me, 50 yards away: "What the (bleep)was that?! What were you thinking? Get out there and run it until you get it (bleeping) right! The players were chagrined, but no one, players or coaches, seemed shocked at what Saint LaVell (he hadn't been really sainted back then) had just dropped on them. LaVell watched the drill without comment for a few reps, then tuned back to his conversation with this assistants as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.