I really don't know what I was thinking when I dragged my wife into the rainy, windy, cold, dark night to watch a bad BYU team play the 14-ranked team in the country in what was sure to be a blowout loss, but we felt compelled. And when all was said and done--despite the swirling rain, the cutting wind, the piercing snow and my wet-hot-dog dinner--it was a great time.

I had to laugh, though. I spent most of the night just sitting there in my heaviest coat, hood pulled down as far as it can go, leaving only a slit for my eyes, with my arms packed tightly by my sides amid the sideways rain. It was not what you would call the ideal football-watching experience.

At one point I got up and walked to the concessions, and standing there in the tunnel exit watching the game was a dude in a thin hoodie and shorts watching the game without a care in the world. Who are these weirdos?