I'm a Cougar Fan

Neal here.

Someone might as well bring up the elephant in the room: For the BYU Cougar football team, one more demoralizing defeat to our hated rivals. For BYU fans everywhere, that ol' familiar stinging sensation in the heart-string region. And this time, since our shot at redemption may be who-knows-how-many years away, that sting ain't gonna fade.

I'm sure, at this point, you're all expecting a bitter diatribe like last year's. Instead, I would like to offer only this:

I'm a Cougar fan.

This is my team, and I love 'em. They're not perfect, but I love 'em. And I could no sooner NOT love them than not love an appendage. And that's what my fan characteristic is, really: An appendage of my psyche. Being a Cougar fan makes me crazy sometimes, breaks my heart at others, and even bestows a little euphoria from time to time, but I could no sooner deny those feelings than I could deny part of my being.

My fandom is engrained. Like sand in your swimsuit, it's in there to stay.

Believe me, I've tried NOT to love them. You know I've tried. But I'm not gonna try THAT anymore. It doesn't do any good. I am a Cougar fan, and to deny my fandom is to deny part of myself.

So I'm not just going to BE a Cougar fan. I'm going to embrace it! Why? Because it's so darn fun!

I love that cheesy fight song. I love the extreme irony of the all-out white-out home game. I love cheering 'em on during ALL their sporting events: Volleyball, soccer, basketball, baseball, gymnastics, whatever. I love Greg Wrubell's enthusiastic game call and sudden emoting. I love painting my face, bustin' out the pom poms, and embarrassing my wife in public. I love the edge-of-your-seat, last-second wins. I love following the greats like Steve Young, Danny Ainge, and Jimmer Fredette throughout their careers. I love recounting the story of the game to co-workers who don't give a crap. I love watching our boys succeed on the National stage on those rare moments the Nation gives them a chance.

Rain or shine, win column or loss column, trouncing or trouncee, it's all part of the experience. And the experience is the wheel of catharsis that drives a huge part of my existence.

So bring on the pain! I embrace it. It hurts like blazes, but I can take it. After all, I've had it before, and will have it again and again.

But know this, Utes: As you insert the shiny needle of ridicule for the next five years, I'll be in my Happy Place. I'll be basking in the glow of our National Championship win over Michigan, our Cotton Bowl win over Kansas State, the Answered Prayer of '06, and the many, many sweet victories to come. And by the way, YOU STILL SUCK AT BASKETBALL! AND I STILL LOVE MY TEAM!!! GOOOOOO....COUGARS!!!!!!

Allow me to conclude with Coach Dale from the movie Hoosiers (You knew I was gonna insert a movie quote somewhere). He addresses the town after a dangerous show of disloyalty to their basketball team:

"I would hope you would support who we are, not who we are not. These individuals have made a choice to work, a choice to sacrifice, to put themselves on the line...to represent you...That kind of commitment and effort deserves and demands your respect. This is your team."

I am a Cougar Fan, and this is my team.