I’ve been thinking a lot this week about why I hate the Utes, or if I even hate them at all. I mean, hate, as Lesley Winn so eloquently put it, is such a strong word.
Not only is it a strong sentiment, but hate to me connotes envy. Hate, to some degree, comes from the bottom up. You hate your older brother because he picks on you and he’s better than you. You hate the Lakers because they win championships. You don’t hate lesser organisms. That’s just wrong.
It’s kind of like Utah State. Even when I desperately want to, there’s no way I could hate Utah State. It’s unnecessary cruelty.
Granted, Utah is no Utah State. Utah is much more competitive, and has earned their fair share of envy. They are, after all, the ones with a BCS Bowl under their belt. But still, they are the lesser organism.
And therein lies the enigma. I am most certainly not short of hate on the Utes, in fact I’m just now stockpiling an extra bundle for the long winter, but envy is definitely not the reason.
So why do I hate the Utes? Why do you hate the Utes?
It’s not the players, I’ll tell you that much. While there are a handful of dirty, low-class Ute players that run their fat mouths and whom I dislike intensely (Steve Tate, Kyle Gunther, Braden Godfrey, etc.), the majority are good and respectable (Paul Kruger, Eric Weddle and to a lesser degree Brian Johnson).
For me, the hate begins and ends with the fans.
Living in the same state with Ute fans is enough to make me want to join a suicide cult. Every time I cross into Salt Lake County a wave of putrid disgust hits my face. The smell, the appearances, the sounds—everything about the heart of Ute country is offensive. Including, by the way, the hack-job U they have on the side of the mountain. Hey Utes: BYU called, they want their traditions back.
My heart goes out to you BYU fans that live in that cesspool.
Ute fans are so detestable. They claim BYU is a self-righteous, judgmental and hypocritical school, yet when BYU students or players fall short of perfection the Utes are the first ones to pounce.
Ute fans are also bitter and angry all the time. I have honestly never seen a Ute smile. And if they ever do have a semblance of a happy expression, it’s only because something bad happened to BYU. They revel in the failures of others. They mock, they laugh, they deride.
They flaunt their lack of moral boundaries, and love to make light of BYU’s religious component. Some Ute fans are Mormons frustrated with BYU’s perceived “Self-righteousness.” Some, and you can’t tell me these people don’t exist, use BYU as an outlet to outright hate the LDS church.
And they look so stupid doing it. My personal favorite are the guys that pop up on the internet message boards with names like “Gadianton” and “Alma the Wiser.” Do these guys know how silly they look?
Plus the smell. Holy crap the smell. Have you ever stood next to a Ute fan for more than 5 consecutive seconds? 10 bucks the stank knocks you flat on your backparts.
Oh, Utah fan. I hate you so much. I hate your crooked little half-smile under your wispy goatee. I hate your gold tooth that you still think is cool. I hate your pirate flags and your santa costume. I hate your nasty old wives that bleach their hair and wear sleeveless shirts even though their arms look like giant Spanish sausages. I hate your Oakleys that you bought in 1995. I hate your boat shoes that you wear with denim shorts and no socks. I hate your one button up shirt you wear when you take your lady out to Market Street Grill to celebrate your latest sale.
And I hate, hate, HATE your team.
Please, BYU, strike these heathens down.