Nature vs Nurture.
DNA vs cra cra.
I don't know where to put the blame in my family's deficiency but make no mistake... we have a problem. An issue.
Within 4 minutes of talking to Yosh upon meeting him, you will definitely know he is an avid BYU football fan. I can guarantee that because your conversation will have ended, dried up, at 2 minutes unless BYU football is brought up. Or unless you're 5'9 with long legs and have a bizarre little twang to your talk.
Point being, he's half man, half Cougar. And now he's also a dad. Big Papi Yosh. And these boys know the way to their daddy's heart...BYU football. Or, OR....were they born with BYU football already in their heart?
This past week, Yosh would come home from work everyday telling his boys how we was SOOOO excited, how it was hard to get through the work day, how he could barely sleep at night...
because he was anticipating the BYU/Utah football game.
For those of you that are neither BYU nor Utah fans, first of all, I commend you. You are not part of a highly outraged group of people. You probably have a little less hate in your heart than the average BYU/Utah. And you probably sleep 365 nights a year.
That being said, you should also know that this is serious. This game epitomizes "Rivalry Week." There is a lot more riding on this game than just a W. Although a W does induce more pride and adrenaline than necessary. And it's equal opposite induces depression and mourning.
I am not exaggerating.
This rivalry game also somehow talks you into wearing an awesome vintage suit that is two sizes too small for you.
All for the love of the game.
So anyway, that is the kind of week we were having last week. And the boys, the big boys, the Dallin and Porter boys, they caught onto this excitement as well.
Friday morning, they were up and at em at the crack of dawn
getting ready for school laying out their outfits for the next day. This is a true story. This is all on their own volition. They were getting prepped, preparing themselves on the inside and outside for game day.
That was Friday, now onto Saturday/game day.
Let me tell you what you don't want to wake up to on Saturday morning. You don't want to wake up to kids at 6 am. But I did, which instantly turned me into the wicked witch as I went flying into their bedroom with my finger already in pointing position telling them to get their tushies back in bed and don't make a sound because it was NOT WAKE UP TIME.
I know, I'm mean. And that's ok, you guys. We're allowed to be mean until 7 am. That's when we put on our big smiles and sweet voices.
I kinda doubt we even made it til 7 before the whole dang crew was up and at em, wondering
a) how many hours until the game, and
b) what were we going to do to pass time til the game.
So the torture of actually living continued until it was finally game time, 7 pm PST.
Our living room was mixed with Cougar fans and Ute fans alike in true hoosier style with beach chairs set up.
One moment the crowd looked like this:
Seconds later, like this: