BYU and Santa

Written by Curtis Anderson

So my girlfriend and I got into an argument the other night. We were talking about how we would want to raise our “hypothetical” kids and she tells me that she will never raise her children into the prevarication that is called Santa Claus. It got me thinking about my Saint Nick experience.

I remember when I was little being so enchanted with the story. A jolly fat man flies around the world on some kind of deer and gives me undeserved presents. The vibrant colors of the lights on the tree and the presents and accompanying smells. Oh the tradition …ahh the pageantry. In the end, I told her even if it was all a big lark (not James), I really enjoyed the ride. If you are a true blue fan you might have already caught onto the allegory, but if not stay with me.

Similar to Santa I was indoctrinated at a young age to BYU football and basketball. I was at most of the Holiday bowls in San Diego. I was there when Texas A&M separated both of Ty Detmer’s shoulders on their way to a 65-14 blowout. I remember Marty Haws… no not Tyler… Marty. I was at the basketball game the Cougars lost to Alabama Birmingham after they had started their 1987-88 season 17-0. I remember my butt getting numb from sitting on relief society chairs in various stake centers around the country watching guys like Nate Call, Derwin Gray, and Russell Larson. I remember yelling so loud when Kevin Nixon hit his half-court shot to beat Utep in the 1992 WAC championship game that our bishop had to come in to settle me down. The only way I was allowed to watch the Hawaii games with my dad was if I took a nap earlier that day, but unbeknownst to my dad I always stayed awake in my bed dreaming of plays and counting the down the minutes until game time.

It’s hard to believe in Santa Claus anymore, just like it’s hard to believe in BYU sports. Year after year us Cougar fans stay awake at night and fantasize about a BCS game or a BCS conference and year after year we are denied. To make matters worse, our arch nemesis up north has made it not only to a BCS game but a BCS conference. Last March Madness I actually cried tears of joy when BYU finally made it past the first round… the FIRST round. Year after year I am more fully invested than the last, and year after year there is a Christian Ponder or Gerry McNamara in my stocking.

43 point game against the Cougars in the 2004 NCAA tourney... what a joke

Stop and think about a National Championship for a second in the two major sports, can you even imagine it? Can you? Can you imagine the hype and hysteria and the ESPN drool? It almost doesn’t seem real. It doesn’t seem real because like a fat man flying around the entire world in one night… it could never happen.

Here is the bottom line. BYU is a Mormon school, and as such they will always be good people (right Austin Collie?), and they will always have the honor code stealing the Harvey Unga's and Michael Lloyd's from their ranks. Because of that, they will always have a shoddy secondary in football, and they will always be missing height/depth down low in basketball. Sure, every once and a while Santa will drop BYU a Jake Heaps, or a Jimmer Fredette, but in the end, the evil BCS conglomerate will always be looming over, there to place the Cougars like pawns back where they belong. In my opinion Dave Rose and Bronco Mendenhall perform minor miracles each year just to keep BYU relevant and to squeeze every drop of athleticism out of what they do have. The fact that the Cougars finish in the top of their conference nearly every year is a MAJOR accomplishment.

However, my jaded blue view seeps into my blue veins this time of year when football is right around the corner. How sad is it that losing one game demolishes any chance BYU has when in reality losing no games still probably wouldn’t get them to a National Championship? But then something magical happens. I remember the vibrant colors of the uniforms clashing in victorious battle with those of red. The lights illuminating the “Y” on the hill at night. The potential victory over a Jake Locker led Washington team would be a pretty good present. The stale, but strangely soothing sounds of the band playing Darth Vader’s Imperial Death March. Along with the accompanying smells of tailgating, hot dogs, candied almonds, and caffeine free coke, oh the tradition …ahh the pageantry.

Once again I am fully invested. Is there a Santa Claus...? Probably not. Does BYU really have a chance at winning a national championship in either of the major sports…? The odds are about the same as a fat man making it through my chimney…and I don't even have a chimney. But I’m going to continue to enjoy the ride, and hope for a miracle.