A New Season

At the PCC 1986 in some sort of 3 point stance.  Dad is in the blue shirt, I'm on the end.

Saturday begins another BYU football season.  I have to admit that the approach of this particular season is a bit emotional for me.  Anyone who knows me knows that I am as devoted a BYU fan as there is on the face of the earth, to the point that watching them play gives me anxiety.  But it's not worries about wins or losses or whatever that give me pause this year.

My love for BYU football grew out of and was always attached to my relationship with my Dad.  I remember watching the games with him on the rare Saturdays that he had off and then going to games with my Papa Haycock and Aunt Marilyn when Dad had to work.  I remember singing the fight song with Dad.  And I particularly remember watching some of the most important games with him:  The 1988 Freedom Bowl, the 1990 Miami game, the 1996 Cotton Bowl, and so forth.  In recent years, Rob and Dad and I went to many games together at Lavell Edward Stadium.  We cheered together.  Dad calmed me down when my fandom got away with me. Without fail, Dad would buy Rob and I a water and a hot dog, despite our efforts to take care of that for ourselves and for him.  We celebrated wins and commiserated losses.  And mostly we just enjoyed spending time together.

In short, BYU football was always about more than just football for me.  It was and is about the relationships connected with it, and especially my relationships with Dad and Rob.  With that in mind, I made a short trip to the cemetery yesterday and told Dad about the upcoming season.  I'm sure he's busy as there is a lot of work to do where he is, but I decided it wasn't inappropriate to invite him to come to the games with Rob and I this year, if he had time; and that he could bring Grandpa Dowdle and Papa Haycock with him too.  Even if they aren't able to make it, I know that both Rob and I will definitely be thinking of them while we are there.

Brett