It’s not easy for me to write a column advocating civility toward the Utes – especially considering my mother raised me thinking that when the U lost, the Adversary lost power.

I don’t know why she told me that. I guess it was just one of those things she wanted her children to remember. Some mothers tell their children to always wear clean underwear, remember who they are or return with honor. Mine just told me that if she ever caught me in red, she would consider our relationship nothing more than biological.

Growing up left its scars, but it taught me a thing or two about football and life. My mom may not have liked the Utes, but she taught me to love them anyway. I don’t know how she did it, but she could generally force a pseudo-sincere, but honestly trying “I’m happy for you,” to her Ute friends when their team was doing well – even when the Utes were going to a BCS bowl and we had just had our third losing season.

I’m not going to try to be above the fray in this rivalry. I’ll admit it. I don’t necessarily like the University of Utah and saying that I did just wouldn’t be true. When Kyle Whittingham went to coach at the U, I was the first to congratulate him on his “turnaround season” (12-0 to 7-5). I was happy they were doing so poorly – and then they beat us on our homefield and all my delight was gone and I had nothing to stand on.

In a more refined moment, I started to think it strange that I was happy when Utah loses. To be honest, it was almost as good as actually winning a game. Not because, it made the Adversary lose power, but because it made BYU look better and would give me one more thing to rub in the face of my Ute friends at church – as if suffering from an inferiority complex wasn’t bad enough.

Something is soul-damagingly wrong with that. For many fans on both sides of the rivalry, it is beyond playful banter. They literally hate each other come rivalry season and delight in each other’s sorrow. I used to try to walk this fine line of banter, but I realized that was only possible with a few of my Ute friends. No matter how funny I thought my jokes, they couldn’t see them as anything but degrading and typical of a Zoobie.

I wanted to scream, “Hey, I’m just kidding. I know that you’re mostly a good person, relax.” But it was too late. The air surrounding the rivalry has become so poisoned that many people can’t even enjoy a good joke about each other.

Most people can force a smile or hold their tongue in front of their Utah friends, but put them behind a keyboard and all their inhibitions are gone. If Freud is the master at peering into people’s true thoughts, he has a close competitor in the anonymity of a nifty username and a message board.

For some reason it is easier to hate people in large abstract groups that don’t really have a face than it is to hate the individuals of that group – especially at a football game.

Over the years, I’ve carefully developed a list of things I don’t like about the U, but even more carefully and wisely realized that those reasons don’t really matter when it comes to how I treat them. They might make for good jokes among my Y friends, by my Ute friends (gasp) don’t seem to think they’re funny -- just like my sister never liked a good blonde joke.

I guess I’ve learned that loving your enemies must surely include people who annoy you every Thanksgiving, kick onsides up 43-0 and celebrate when you mourn.

Copyright Brigham Young University 20 Nov 2007