It's time to let it go, Utes fans

This Gordon Monson column is pretty good. Read on...


Come on into Dr. Feelgood's office, Joe Ute Fan. Punch up a pillow, get comfortable, relax, and the doctor will be right with you . . .
Thanks, Nurse Ratched.
Aaach, Joe, how are we today?
We're lousy, Doc. Beyond lousy. We're so far past lousy, we're hurtling toward misery and death and worse.
Why so blue?
Because I'm red, Doc. I'm forever red.
I see. Still suffering from Brigham Young's 17-10 win, eh?
My happiness is predicated on winning, Doc. And since my identity and self-esteem are all wrapped up in the success of the Utes, I'm bummin' big time.
What about other priorities, your wife, your family, your kids?
Who?
So, since your team lost, you feel like a loser.
Darn straight, Doc. I have a lot of anger built up. A lot of rage. And it's not my fault.
Whose fault is it?
Andy Ludwig's. Did you see the play-calling in that game? The Utes win seven straight games by turning Darrell Mack loose on opposing defenses, letting him run between the tackles, early and often, and what does Ludwig do against BYU?
Gets creative?
No, Doc. He gets stupid. He gives Mack the ball all of five times in the first half. He tries to run Mack wide. He tries a bunch of trick plays, triple-doo-dah reverses and such, all while the Cougars just sit back and laugh. He tries the option. He tries to throw deep. What happened to the basic Ute offense - a lot of Mack and timely short passing from Brian Johnson? Why change? Why, Doc, why?
Maybe it was because BYU's D had only been giving up 90 yards a game rushing, and the Utes studied the films and thought they couldn't live off of Mack up the middle.
But did you see the TD drive at the end, when we went 69 yards in 15 plays and converted five of five third downs, and scored on Mack's run?
We? On the scoring drive, it's we?
Where was that the whole game? That was Ute football. Mack running. Johnson running. A couple of short passes. Touchdown. And there's more, Doc.
There always is.
The next drive by the Cougars. What was that? Fourth-and-18? Are you kidding me? Fourth-and-18?! All the defense had to do was stop one play - one play, Doc! - and the thing's over. We win. Let it go, Joe.
Max Hall was on the run. We had him, Doc. I'm telling you, we had him. And, then, oh, nooooooooo . . .
What?!
. . . my world ended. Fourth-and-18, quarterback on the run, bloops up a wild hook shot, for 49 yards to a wide open receiver. Un-frickin-believagable, Doc. I can't handle it. One defensive stop, just one, and I don't have to listen to my idiotic Cougar-fan neighbors bragging about how great BYU football is, how it's back, how Bronco Mendenhall is our fully invested, fanatically committed, higher-level-executing daddy. I don't hear how Hall will win the Heisman next year, how Harvey Unga made the right decision when he stiffed the Utes and went to BYU, instead. I can't take it, Doc. I'm losing my mind. I'm flipping my lid. I'm going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.
Perhaps you need a 12-step recovery program. Do you believe in a higher power?
You mean Urban Meyer?
No, no. The Lord, Joe, the Lord.
He's a BYU fan. Isn't that what Austin Collie said?
Not exactly. Collie said, live right and God steps in and plays a part.
What's that mean?
Beats me. It might mean God helped BYU win, it might mean God just helped Collie do his best.
That's a bunch of mumbo-jumbo. I don't mix religion with sports.
How about magic? It happens, Hall said, when you do the right things, on and off the field.
I'll tell you what happens, Doc, you get screwed over by the refs. The PI was bogus. The personal foul was even worse. It's a heavy load. It isn't fair, Doc. It's too much, too, too much . . .
What about the calls that went against BYU, like the Collie touchdown play negated in the first half?
The refs were stellar on that one.
What about the Utes' inability to capitalize on the Hall interception deep in BYU territory?
Johnson threw a horrible pass that was picked, again. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.
You seem badly conflicted here. You love. You hate.
No, I'm not. No, I don't. It's just that we suck . . . we're great . . . we suck . . . we're great . . . we suck.
Hey, hey. Deal with it, dog. Snap out of it. To quote Dean Smith: "If you make every game a life-and-death proposition, you'll have problems. You'll be dead a lot."
Tell me about it, Doc. This is twice in two years now.
It's football, Joe, not life.
Football is life.
Then, in your case, at least for another year, it's death.
Fourth-and-18? Where was the coverage? Two bad calls? Where was the justice? Fifty yards in the first half? Where was the offense? It's a lot worse than just death, Doc. It's an unquenched fire. It's pain and suffering and agony and misery, too. It's hell. It's two or three levels below that. What's worse than hell?
Having to listen to you.