View From the Bushes

Every school has its arch-rival, and every area has its big rivalry games. Here in Utah, it's the University of Utah vs. BYU in football. Being an Utah alum, that's who I generally root for, though this year it was looking kind of grim. A BYU booster, who's a co-worker of mine, came by to talk to me about the game before I left on my vacation. He confidently predicted that BYU would win by more than two touchdowns. I told him that given that it was a rivalry game I thought it would be very close; I also predicted that the backup quarterback would do really well, and I offered to back up all of these predictions by placing a bet.

He told me that I didn't know what the hell I was talking about and that in fact, I didn't know dick about football but declined to put his money where his mouth was by sactimonously (one of the traits of a true BYU fan) declaring that he "doesn't bet." For any who missed the game, that's pretty much exactly what happened: the backup quarterback played great and the game went into overtime, where in the icing on the cake, the Utes won. Well as you can well imagine, I looked forward to rubbing my co-worker's face into things, but his spirit was broken, and all he would say was, "I was wrong" while maintaining an aspect similar to what you might expect to see if his puppy had died. I took a couple of jabs at him, but he wouldn't make it sporting.

I'd post about the vacation, but it involves a certain amount of vomiting (normal, not projectile) and I know how everyone hates it when I write about that, so I'll wrap it up here.

Chained to my many commitments
Ross