Let me give you a little glimpse into my Thursday.
As some of you know, my wife and I decided to take a vacation to Orange County last week just to get away from it all. It was beautiful, relaxing and a lot of fun.
All but one very bitter night, that is.
Thursday began well enough. The sun was out, the palm trees were green, the Disney Kettle Corn mist they spray in the air to get you to crave the stuff and thus buy it was plentiful.
Becky and I spent the whole day in Disneyland (we actually spent the whole vacation there. The "Orange County" remark was kind of an inside joke. You're on the outside, apparently). I was proudly wearing my BYU "The Quest" shirt, and was very happy to see dozens of people around the park also wearing their BYU gear (we counted at least 35). My fellow BYU fans and I all had big smiles on our faces. It was game day.
The game started at 5 pacific time, so we eased on over to ESPN Zone at about 4:45. We got a nice seat right in front of a TV that would be showing the game, we ordered some wings, and I settled in for an evening full of my favorite thing in the entire world: BYU football.
Then I was shaken, slapped and shocked back into reality. The game was only two minutes old and BYU already had a turnover and was down 7-0. A few minutes later it was 14-0. Then 17-0. Then 23-0.
Was this happening? Is TCU the best team on the planet? Is BYU really playing so badly? Are we really that emotionless and slow?
By the third quarter, some Ute fans had trickled into the Zone and were starting to cheer for TCU. One emo kid in a feaux-hawk was particularly annoying. I wanted to get up and break a pitcher of water over his head, but then I realized it: he's right to mock.
BYU looked so bad, and TCU deserved every little bit of that win. BYU was exposed, humiliated and beaten to a pulp--physically, emotionally and otherwise. The Cougs lost the game 32-7, as I'm sure you're all well aware, and I slunk out of the restaurant in a daze, realizing that BYU had lost much more than a game.
Gone are our BCS dreams.
Gone is our nation-leading 16-game winning streak.
Gone, even, is the chance of winning an outright MWC title.
Gone is the Las Vegas Bowl.
Gone is our MWC dominance.
Gone is my confidence.
Gone, gone, gone. In one poof. In one night.
After the game, and in the days following, I got several phone calls from friends and family wanting to talk things out.
I screened them all.
The last thing I want to do after a horrible loss like that is relive it. Complaining does not make me feel better, it makes me feel worse. Talking about how bad we played is not therapeutic. I am not a believer in catharsis when it comes to college football.
So I forgot about it, and had a great vacation with my wife.
But now I'm home and I can't run away from what happened on Thursday. I am forced to face the reality that BYU, once again, fell short of their potential and their fans' expectations. I am forced to face the fact that BYU just couldn't do what teams like Boise State, Utah and Hawai'i did and go through a season undefeated. I'm forced to think about our horrible loss, and the absolute worst? I'm forced to talk about it with every schmuck that comes by my desk at work.
Painful, painful stuff.
(For any co-workers that may read this post, the word "schmuck" is not meant to be a put-down. In fact, I consider it a term of endearment.)
Anyway, I am sick about BYU's loss. Just sick about it. I know it's just one loss, but it was a very big loss. It means much much more than a few spots in the polls or a BCS game.
That's all I want to write for now. Sorry for opening the old wounds again.