Everybody loves a roller coaster, right? But why? It certainly isn’t the “waiting in line” that we enjoy. In fact, THAT part is quite tedious, and the true enjoyment only comes when we finally get on the ride and experience the triple-loop. In that sense, then, it isn’t until we finally reach our destination at the front of the line that we can start to enjoy ourselves.

But in another sense, reaching the front of the line is not REALLY the end destination. The ride itself is also a journey. True, it goes quickly and is over before you know it, but once it is over, we will often have enjoyed ourselves so much that we want to hurry back and get in line for a second run.

And no one gets to that ending point where the ride stops and thinks, “Now I have finally arrived.”

I think sports are kind of like a roller-coaster ride in many ways. The offseason is much like “waiting in line,” where the only enjoyment comes from anticipation and speculation about what lies ahead. Then comes the first kickoff and we start to experience the highs and the lows of the ride itself. But midway through the ride, something peculiar happens. Instead of throwing our arms up in the air and squealing with excitement, we turn our eyes and focus on the end of the ride. What will we be ranked when we get to the end? Will there be a conference trophy there? And, before we know it, the ride is over. Suddenly, it doesn’t really matter what we thought at the midpoint of the ride. If there is a high ranking or a trophy there, we look at it and smile for two seconds, then hurry on to get in line for the next season’s ride. And if there is nothing of note at the final destination, that doesn’t matter either because the next ride looks all the more appealing compared to the one we just finished.

In my days as a Ute fan, I have seen the full gamut of roller-coaster experiences. I have cheered teams with only two wins, and also teams with only two losses. And during both seasons, I made my way to the stadium each week with an equal hope that the next game would be a victory. On October 29, 1988 I made the trek up to Rice Stadium to cheer a Ute team that had lost five games while winning only twice. But I continued to cheer as I watched them dismantle San Diego State by a score of 41-20 on that day. And they went on to win their next four in a row, including an unforgettable 57-28 defeat of highly-ranked BYU.

With my own eyes, I saw the upper-deck of Angels Stadium (Anaheim) shake and rock with cheering Ute fans as we watched our team comeback from a 21-0 deficit to tie USC in the 1993 Freedom Bowl – only to lose the game by a touchdown. And the very next year, I once again saw those same cement stands shaking with excitement as the Ute fans cheered Cal Beck, who (for the second game in a row) returned a kick the length of the field in the closing minutes of the ball game. A few moments later, on fourth-and-goal from the 5-yard line, I saw Mike McCoy lob a pass into a crowd of defenders, only to have Kevin Dyson come down with it in the end zone to secure Utah’s first bowl victory in two decades.

And there have been many other precious moments as well – all of them highly-cherished and remembered. Only a few have resulted in post-season rankings, and only one has resulted in a trophy. And, in the end, I look back and realize it was not the destination that made these moments special. It was the journey itself. And I suspect that, regardless of what happens with the BCS in 2004, I will look back on this season in much the same way.



    Coming  Saturday, October 30, 2004  - 7:00 pm MDT on