True Blue Week: Wednesday

I spent a good part of my day listening to sports radio on the internet, specifically 1280 a.m. here in Utah. Of course, the biggest topic of discussion was the upcoming Holy War. Besides listening to the on-air personalities discuss various issues surrounding the game, I was also able to listen to interviews conducted earlier in the week with current and former Cougars and Utes. Brian Johnson and Urban Meyer were the biggest names from the Ute side while former Cougar greats like John Beck, Bryan Kehl, and Reno Maho shared their insights. I particularly enjoyed listening to Beck and Kehl, but what caught my attention most the entire time I was listening to the station was how eager the on-air guys were to get a player to say something outrageous, the whole bulletin-board material thing. Most of the interviewees, especially the current players interviewed like Dennis Pitta and Jan Jorgensen, were too smart to fall into that trap.

I know as a competitive person, especially with athletics, that if someone talks trash, it fires me up. I want nothing more than to silence that person by making them look bad. This usually happens most when I play soccer; it happened a lot in high school and even occasionally takes place in intramurals.

Example: while playing an indoor co-ed soccer game nearly two years ago, players on the other team were continually mocking us and talking trash despite the fact that they were losing. We scored another goal with about twenty seconds left in the game. On the ensuing kickoff their goalie game out of the box so they could try and assert a numerical advantage and score a goal before the clock ran down. Unfortunately for them, they misplayed a ball back to the goalie just outside of the circle at midfield. I was able to get to the ball before anyone on their team, and out of that increased competitiveness and spite generated by their constant trash-talking, I put the ball into the open net just as time ran out. And I celebrated the goal and our victory loudly.

Back to football. Both teams seem so afraid of providing the other team any extra motivation that they refuse to say anything that might be construed in any way as trash-talking. I can understand the coaches' motives in training their players to do this. As fans, it seems we want the trash-talk no matter what. Players and coaches alike frequently comment on how the violent hatred of the rivalry exists mainly amongst fans. The players who view it as the end-all game of the year most likely grew up in the rivalry as fans and have that lingering fan hatred for the other team.

I'll admit to having engaged in a good number of "Utah sucks" conversations in my life, most probably while as a teenager, but my interaction with Ute fans has become far more civil since high school. I still don't like the Utes, nor do I cheer for them when they're not playing BYU, but I don't hate the teams. It's always the fans' behavior that enrages me most. I know I can be an annoying BYU fan as much as anyone else, and I probably enjoy gloating in our victories too much, but at least I don't verbally or physically abuse opposing teams' fans. That's going too far, and hopefully nothing of the sort takes place on Saturday. I'm lucky that I won't have to watch Saturday's game with any Ute fans. Win or lose, I don't want them around at all that day - or the entire weekend to be honest.

BYU Football Memory #3:
I watched the 2006 Las Vegas Bowl in which BYU trounced Oregon 38-8 from the comforts of my parents' home in Vernal. My joy was incomplete because I felt I should have been at the game. I'd attended the 2005 Las Vegas Bowl against Cal and wanted desperately to acquire tickets to the game in 2006. Unfortunately, I was just a lowly BYU student. Of the many tickets allotted to BYU, a tiny number (I heard a figure around 500, though the actual number was likely a little higher) of tickets were made available to students. Both my sister and I tried to acquire tickets to no avail, thanks to the ridiculous system set up by the Ticketing Department. I was furious and heartbroken at the same time. It was painful to see the Cougs destroy the Ducks, and my pain was greatest when the students stormed the field and celebrated. I wanted so badly to be there. I felt deprived of what should have been a great moment in my personal history with BYU football.

I wasn't going to let anything like that happen in 2007. I went out of my way to get tickets, and it actually wasn't all that difficult. In fact, I ended up with more tickets than I really needed. I tried to get family members to go, but prior engagements made that impossible. I then turned to my main man Justin and was able to offer the tickets to him, his wife, and other members of his family. We made the trip to Vegas to see the Cougs take on the UCLA Bruins in a rematch of an earlier game we lost to UCLA that season. It was a low-scoring game, something that doesn't usually work in our favor, and to my chagrin, UCLA, losing by only one point, began driving the ball down the field. All they needed was to get in field goal range. Well, it didn't take too much for them to get there. BYU fans all around us where getting up and leaving, convinced that the Bruins' kicker would easily make a field goal from such a short distance. I've never left a game early and that wasn't going to be the first, even if it was going to end terribly. I turned to Justin and told him, "I don't know how, but we have to block this kick." It was the only way for us to win. The teams lined up for the final play, and I was too nervous. Our seats were in the south end zone, exactly where the ball would soon be flying. The thought of seeing the ball soar through the uprights directly in front of us anguished me.

The ball was snapped, the holder caught the snap and put it on the ground, and the kicker advanced toward it. I watched him hit the ball and then I waited. I saw the ball go up but then it sputtered and flailed before falling short of the goalpost. I couldn't believe what I had just seen. I turned to Justin and we looked at one another in disbelief. Then I turned back to look at the officials who were waving their arms back and forth to signal that the kick was "no good." Everyone who stayed to watch the final agonizing nail in our coffin (all the BYU fans at least) was suddenly elated beyond measure. Everyone was jumping and yelling and celebrating the improbably blocked-kick to win the game 17-16. I turned to Justin and told him that we had to rush the field. Then before really getting a reply from him, I took off down the stands towards the field. I was soon out on the field jumping around and celebrating with strangers and basking in the moment. It was a glorious finish to a very good season, and I felt, in some way, that justice had been served and the painful memories of missing the 2006 game began to fade (though I still feel I should have been there).

The ending to this game definitely makes my list of Top 5 endings of BYU football games, especially those I've attended.