By Rock Mitchell
As I stormed out of the Marriott Center Wednesday night it was apparent BYU fans were grumbling to each other about the game. But all I could hear was some stupid Rebel fan braying like a jackass: "Yay! Yay! Yaaayyy!"
I wanted to turn around and say something spiteful to the idiot, but instead I trudged forward, realizing there was nothing to say. I was a reprentative of the losing team.
The past couple of years have been glory days for BYU fans. MWC championships, NCAA tournament appearances, bowl wins, rivalry wins, etc...
Alas, I have become completely disillusioned. My fanship used to be something that pushed me forward with a smile on my face. But now, after these past two months, it is more of a burden to carry around--like a sack of rocks.
Now I know what it's like to be a Colorado State fan.
Over the past two months I've had to watch my Cougs
- get blown out by our dirty red-headed step child (Utah) in football
- suffer a 0.01-second loss to ranked Arizona State in basketball
- endure a heartless and uneventful loss to Arizona in the Vegas bowl
- blow an 8-point second half lead to 6th-ranked Wake Forest (snapping a 53-game home win streak)
- get rolled by UNM at The Pit
- blow a 13-point second half lead to UNLV, at home (snapping a 25-game home win streak against MWC opponents)
That's six upsetting losses, all in a two-month stretch between November 22, 2008, and January 21, 2009.
It's been a while since I've had a reason to hold my chin up. I don't know when things are going to turn around. Chances are, crap will continue when BYU loses to UNLV in the MWC basketball tournament, and when the football team gets rolled by Oklahoma in September.
As Thomas Paine so eloquently put it, "these are times that try men's souls." Furthermore, these are the times that separate fair-weather fans from dyed-in-the-wool fans.
As much as I want to sit in a dark corner and sulk, I'm going to keep showing up to the games and suffering losses with the team. They earned as much with the joy they gave me in the good times. I'm dyed-in-the-wool, dawg.