All of those years of sitting in the stands with my dad and brothers have blurred the line between family and BYU football. My Grandpa also served his mission to Hawaii, and was constantly hosting families he knew from his mission days, who now had kids playing sports at BYU. Growing up around bigger-than-life BYU athletes definitely left an impression.

Over the years my dad and I have spent countless hours talking about BYU football, so much so that now when he calls I assume it's something to do with the team—but only as a reason for him to get the conversation rolling—inevitably he uses it as jumping off point to ask me how I'm doing or tell me that he's thinking about me. This was a blessing, because he and I went through a rough patch, but could always talk Cougar Football.

I credit BYU sports to keeping the lifeline between us open. Eventually we were able to work through our differences, and the common ground between us has grown from Cougar Football to a much bigger footprint.

I'm glad I never jumped ship to supporting the U as a form of rebellion towards my dad, especially in Utah County. So many of the people I knew growing up there, who were huge U fans, were either anti-mormon, smug ex-mormon, or mormons who seemed to be embarrassed to be mormon—their fandom seemed predicated upon their hatred for BYU or mormons. It felt like a pathetic idea to join their ranks.

It wasn't until I moved to SLC when I met legit Utah fans who were fans of Utah simply because they liked the team, and not because they hate BYU—or because they had similar experiences to what I had with my dad.

I love it when people are fanatics about a team. I love the bond it can create, and I love that it exists for any team in any sport—even for Utah sports