We were in the south end zone on about the 15th row (said 8th, but wasn't, really), surrounded by BYU fans, all of whom had bought their tickets about the day after the TCU game - in other words, true believers. And the feeling there was euphoric, of course, but only at the end. At the beginning, there was nervousness. We were genuinely scared. Not so much that we might lose, I don't think, but for what that losing might mean. For all our faith, we weren't sure that BYU was what we hoped it was. We weren't sure that a team of Molly Mormons really could beat the trash-talkin' superfast athletes of Oregon (subbing for the rest of The World).

And then, we could. We really were better than they were. There was lots of cheering, but behind it was this odd sense of relief. I don't know that there's ever been a BYU team that had as much weight to carry as this one, because oh, how desperately we wanted to believe. We want to believe that Bronco's approach works. We LOVED this team, almost to death. We loved the players, the coaches, the atmosphere. I have never felt so much that I was the one playing, that these guys were playing for me, and that THEY KNEW IT.

I was crying, too.