…when I was in 7th grade and the newest Zoobie was born.

I still tolerated my family, but that was easy in the ‘90s when BYU obliterated the Yewts every year. After LaVell though, it became dicey. Yet my dye was cast and I remain blue to the bone.

I realized that not all Utah fans are nice, good people just trying to cheer for a team when I brought my 6-month old son to the Beck to Harline game with my wife and in-laws.

Being derided every time went down the rickety south end zone stairs, trying to avoid the literal turds on my way, to take my little guy to change his diaper, was not ideal. Then if I held anything caffeinated seemed to invite a chorus of pharisetic scriptorians questioning my commitment to the church’s word of wisdom.

It was very sweet to celebrate Harline’s answered prayer and shove all that self-congratulatory idiocy back to them.

And even sweeter when some doltish “football expert” proclaimed that Harline “was down” in the end zone so it should not have counted. (Ok, punkin’.)

As the years went on, the chasm between friendly Utah fans and straight-up Yewts widened with the latter climbing the greasy, feces-smelling slopes to the Great and Spacious Building in record numbers. Anecdotally, I would say 85% of Utah fans are intolerable idiots who hate the Church and use BYU as an “acceptable” way to display their bigotry. The rest, God bless them, are fine.

That said, it will never get old watching my sister squirm when I explain I am the only “white sheep in the family” to someone who asks why I went to BYU when everyone else in my family went to the U. It’s corny and stupid, but sweet nonetheless.