Never in the history of The Daily Utah Chronicle has a die-hard BYU fan written for the sports section.
I honestly don’t know if that’s true. I suppose it’s possible a few closet Cougars masqueraded as Ute beat writers in the past, but I guarantee no one has openly admitted his or her love for good ol’ Brigham Young as often as I have…and survived, anyway.
One day I’ll look back on this experience of covering a wide variety of sports ranging from U hockey to softball to the Utah Jazz. My smile will eventually vanish, and I’ll say, “Holy crap, what was I thinking?”
For two semesters, I parked myself smack dab in the middle of The Chrony den, surrounded by lions who view the world in just one color-blood red. Houdini couldn’t have pulled this job off!
Now, I could take a certain route here and say that it was nothing less than the hand of God that preserved my righteous life from these fascist Ute whoremongers. But that would be untrue, not to mention unbelievably stupid.
In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I learned this year that Ute fans are people, too, filled with feelings and emotions-especially when they hear of He Who Must Not be Mentioned (I’ll give you a hint: he’s still open).
As much as I enjoyed reveling in BYU’s success this season, working amongst the enemy has given me a completely unique viewpoint that I never would’ve discovered otherwise.
Like a fly on the wall, I observed the U rugby and hockey clubs fighting and clawing their way through tough seasons. I got to know the caliber of those young men and witness their work ethics put forth in each practice and each game.
I watched the young women from the softball team cheer each other from the dugouts with a passion for the game that rivals any other Ute program.
Heck, I even shook hands and conversed with players from the football team I’ve spent my whole life hating.
As I graduate this spring, I’ll be leaving one message for sure. I’ve grown attached to these kids. I even found myself rooting for each team, whether I sat under the sun in the softball bleachers or outside the glass of the chilly ice rink.
I rooted for them to not just win but take joy out of knowing they succeeded because they worked hard at something they love. And people like this exist, no matter on which side of the fence you stand.
