And it just gets classier...

Now, I want to make it clear that I'm not some tirading U fan clinging onto the poor examples of sportsmanship and downright ridiculous conduct of this particular picture of a Y fan attacking Whittinghams daughter and wife (cause apparently it's the women and children who this guy decided was the best target for his idiocy) nor Max Hall's emotional outburst to prove some "BYU sucks too" point. No no no. I think it's a fine institution and anyone who thinks differently probably has never been there and experienced that great campus. I worked there for a time and I'd work there again in an instant.

And as we've all mentioned, the U has some real morons as well and I'm sure if there had been a camera phone quick enough to capture Hall's fam getting doused by beer - the U would receive backlash as well (as they should!). However, I think what's important here is to recognize that we can't make generalized statements about anyone, anything, any institution, because those words will ALWAYS come back and bite us in the arse. I'm sure the relief Hall felt getting his emotions out is nothing compared to the regret he has now... maybe not so much that he said something stupid... but that he is the leader of the BYU Football team who said something stupid for everyone to hear. A lesson for all of us to think before we speak and maybe consider we're not as awesome as we think we are either.

Just as not ALL Ute fans are drunken jerks, not all Y fans would attack a woman and her child merely because they are from the opposing team (which is even weirder because... dude... BYU won if you didn't notice). The guy pictured below does not represent the entire BYU student body, their fans, nor their programs... but between him and Max Hall, they've both fueled the hate between these two teams by their irresponsible actions. Shame on you guys.




And maybe as an EXAMPLE of class...

"University of Utah athletic department officials, including head football coach Kyle Whittingham, have declined to respond to BYU quarterback Max Hall's postgame tirade on Saturday. Sports information director Liz Abel said it was a BYU institutional matter. She also said Whittingham has declined to comment on reports that his wife, Jamie, suffered a cut lip in a fan-related incident after the game."

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/705348046/Utes-wont-respond-to-Hall.html

BYU football: Max Hall reprimanded by Mountain West Conference

Honestly - though his apology wasn't entirely believable "It was not intended to be directed at the entire organization and all of their fans and I apologize that it came out that way."

Cause really Hall, I'm pretty sure you knew exactly what was coming out... HOWEVER...

I have to sympathize with the guy. Truly, he held a justified vendetta against U fans that he said assaulted HIS family as well. I too think the people who did that are complete morons and nothing could justify such behavior. I think that mixed with a very hurt ego last year, created some rage in Hall he finally let spill out. It happens to all of us. But maybe next time, we should all take a lesson from an older, more mature and experienced man who's family was ALSO assaulted by Y fans and not comment at all. Kyle Whittingham has shown some true class here and I think Hall has learned his lesson perhaps the hard way. But we can be sure he'll never forget it.

Max Hall's Example of "Class"

Below you will find a bitter, generalizing, Max Hall who just WON (well, his team won) the big rivalry game this year. It was an awesome game (as it is every year), and one we've learned over the years is never over until it's over. The rivalry is intense accompanied by varying levels of fans who either bitterly hate each other, who participate just for fun, and those who don't really care because they're from out of state and don't understand why we all just can't get along.

As to the ones who bitterly hate each other - it's ridiculous. Really, there's so much hate and resentment that it ruins the intensity and fun of the game, the harmless banter between alumni, and the spirit of sportsmanship. As to Utah and BYU respectively: they each carry with them that group of asinine jerk fans who make the entire school look like a bunch of either 1. Drunken idiots or 2. Self-righteous cry babies. In case you aren't sure which is which - Utah sports some drunken moron representation while BYU totes some seriously self-righteous tools. But as any reasonable person knows - not ALL Utes are beer guzzling morons and not ALL BYU fans are "holier than thou" Provo drones. Smart people know that. Max Hall does not fall into that category...

Max Hall is now the poster child exemplifying one of those BYU alum who take the name "BYU" and paint a naive, close-minded, and yes, self-righteous stereotype (though no one did that better than that git Austin Collie) that only propagates the stupid antics exhibited by what he claims a Ute fan did to his family. Of COURSE that's wrong and of COURSE those Ute fans should be ashamed and probably kicked around a little... but it was a handful of morons you're taking as the representation of an ENTIRE institution. An instituion, I might mention, who carries with it some very prestigious programs, world-renowned scientists (cough.. Nobel Prize Winners) cough, and a great football program headed by non-other than a former BYU player. Hey Kyle! Max HATES YOU!!!!

(Listen, I'm going on a tangent. What BYU fans don't get about Ute fans is they WILL punch you in the face and speak all manner of deragtory comments against your mother if you provoke them. What BYU fans don't get is that UTE fans can be VERY mean, REAL WORLD MEAN, and it would be in their BEST interest not to provoke them with their stupid comments... because when they're punched in the face and cry about it on TV, they just look like retards. I'm not saying this is acceptable; but come ON! You wouldn't poke an angry rattle snake with a stick, would you? No. You wouldn't. THINK a little bit and just avoid the situation geniuses).

Anyway... flash forward, IF what Hall said happened to his fam and it was an idiot Ute fan, fault the idiocy of the fan, Hall, and not an entire program, university, every single player, and group of people who for the majority just come out to watch a great game and have fun. As a Ute fan, I found his comments childish and bitter. Yes Hall, last year's "honk if you intercepted Max Hall" hit your where it hurt - in your big puffed up proud head. So get over it. Learn from it. Come back next year and do better (because hello, you WON you fool!). Have some CLASS.

Frankly, BYU fans and alum like Max Hall don't do much for the "class" of BYU and what it CLAIMS to represent. He did the University a disservice with his bitterness. And now he'll get to hear about it for the rest of his footballess life. Just keep on poking that angry snake with your stick Hall, and see what happens. Honk if you "hate" Max Hall!

See article below
--------------------------------------------------
Monson: Mad Max's thunder a blunder
By Gordon Monson

Salt Lake Tribune Columnist

Max Hall was ticked off.

No, he was pissed off.

Royally (blue) pissed off.

If that language offends you, just wait a paragraph or two, you haven't read anything yet, especially if you favor in any way the University of Utah. Hall had a postgame message for all of you: He "hates" you. He thinks you, your football program, your school is "classless."

The senior BYU quarterback made no bones about that, and no apologies for it.

After throwing the game-winning touchdown pass in overtime to beat Utah by the count of 26-23 on Saturday night at LaVell Edwards Stadium, Hall fired off anger and frustration and hatefulness that had been building inside him for a year.

When asked after the win whether he felt any kind of personal redemption, particularly following last season's loss at Rice-Eccles Stadium in which he committed six turnovers, Hall spiraled a string of Ute loathing that was not only steely-eyed and straight-faced, it was delivered with unmistakable intent.

He wanted everybody to know exactly what he had been hiding inside for 12 months. Hall's been around long enough, and is media-savvy enough, to know full well what the reaction would be. He said it anyway.

The eruption after the question went like this ...

"A little bit, yeah. I don't like Utah. In fact, I hate them. I hate everything about them. I hate their program, I hate their fans, I hate everything.

"So it felt really good to send those guys home. They didn't deserve it. It was our turn, and our turn to win. We deserved it. We played as hard as we could tonight. And it felt really good, again, to send them home, to get them out of here, and so it is a game I will always remember."

Then, Hall was asked: Any particular reason you hate Utah?

"You really want me to go into it?"

Sure.

"I think the whole university, their fans, and their organization is classless. They threw beer on my family and stuff last year, and they did a whole bunch of nasty things, and I don't respect them, and they deserve to lose."

That's what the quarterback said.

Think what you want of it. Castigate him, if you will.

I won't.

I will say he's wrong. His emotion is over-the-top and misplaced. There's too much collateral damage in the bombs he let fly. Too much irresponsibility. After all, some BYU fans behave horribly, as well. And he knows that.

He should also know Utah is a terrific university, with a terrific football program, with terrific people involved with it. Most the fans are terrific, too. Some of them, indeed, are as ridiculous as they are narrow-minded and, in a some cases, small-minded.

Anybody who would toss beer on a player's family, especially after that player pretty much lost the game for his team, is a dope, an idiot, a stooge.

There's no excusing that behavior.

Hall's rant, however, ran beyond just that.

For a year, he had been a laughingstock, the brunt of jokes passed along among Utes, spoken derisively on radio shows, posted on the Internet, written across T-shirts, chucked directly into a proud man's face.

He had been hurt by it, and that was clearly evident on Saturday, just a few minutes after one of the highest moments in his long career at BYU.

One second, he was dog-piling with his teammates in the north end zone at LES, being mobbed by Cougar fans, overcome with unadulterated happiness. "It felt so good," he said.

And the next, he was spraying hate toward the school, its players and fans, he had just so gloriously defeated -- with all the specificity of a sawed-off shotgun.

I hate everything about them? The whole university is classless?

Come on, Max.

It's like hating on a community of 500,000 people because a couple hundred of them were asses toward you and yours.

Hall even took shots at his own fans, the ones who had criticized him in the wake of earlier failings, saving special mention for those who hide behind anonymous Internet names and rip away in the safety of their facelessness.

"People can say whatever they want," he said. "... It felt good to win for the true fans."

Everyone else can stick it.

Max Hall, sadly, hates your guts

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So what do think of Hall now?


As for me... I don't think much of him at all. Him nor his "game." Goodbye Max Hall and goooooood riddance.

SLC Trib: http://www.sltrib.com/ci_13887821

A little reminder from last year... Holy War

One of the biggest college rivalries meets this Saturday at 3:00 in Provo, Utah. It's the Holy War between the University of Utah and BYU. Best. Game. Of. The. Year. Always intense. Always unpredictable. I felt only Hitler could remind us thoroughly of what happened last year... and will likely happen again this year.

All I can say is lets hope our UTAH MVP from last year shows up this year! We couldn't have won without the one and only Max Hall. Go Utes! And Go Max Hall! :) Crimson will be there to catch your passes every single time.

Desperate Times...

It snowed - so I guess that means I should continue driving as I always have

Utah boasts the greatest snow on earth; and in 2002, we proved it to the world by hosting the Winter Olympics. Every year hundreds if not thousands of snow-enthusiasts flock to Utahs resorts to enjoy the beauty of the mountains and strap pieces of wood to their body in the hopes of screaming down a steep mountain face over and over and over through deep powdery wonderlands. Snow is an integral part of the Utah experience.

However... there is a taint...

It seems that Utah's notorious "bad driving" knows no limits - not even winter storm, black ice, foggy death, wet, limits. Yesterday we had our first bonified snowfall of the season. I was perusing at Goldon Braid Books when it all happened - I looked out the window and what had started as a typically gloom covered day in November was now dotted with flakes the size of my face silently floating from the sky. "It's snowing!!" I exclaimed outloud to myself - but still looked around to see if my yelp had reached some book-wanderers ear and drawn their gaze out the window. Alas! I really did just exclaim to myself - but it was still worth the exclamation (I've realized how much more comfortable I am with talking to myself outloud in public places and not being embaressed when I realize that I've been doing it. Meh... so let them think I'm crazy.... maybe I kinda am).

Well, as those who have lived in "snow-prone" places know - snow is beautiful, but also equals wet slick roads. And to everyone with an resemblance of common sense coursing through there cerebellum that means you should modify your usual "sunny day" driving behaviors to compensate for wet, slick, snowy road. Makes sense right? RIGHT? After leaving Golden Braid Books I needed to venture to Nordstrom for some make-up renewing (huzah!), and proceeded to get on the snowy freeway to do just that. By this time it really was somewhat of a blizzard and the roads were rather slick. But did that stop "that guys" SUV? NO WAY! As you can probably imagine the rant I am building up - lets just say in my journey from downtown to the 53rd South exit I witnessed no less than 5 swerving"close calls" where people where literally shocked their car slide more on wet roads than dry ones, 4 jackasses tailing anyone who even ATTEMPTED to go the speed limit in the "fast lane" (because you realize the fast lane still means GO FAST even if there's icy death on the road), 3 moms in vans chatting away on their cell phone with bouncing brats making faces at passing cars as she wooshed by splaying slush all over everyone, and my personal favorite, the SUV drivers who bob and weave through traffic with looks on their faces like "why are all you people driving cautiously in a blizzard?? I guess you should've purchased a 4 wheel drive anti-death Escalade like me!! HAW HAW HAW!" I hate those arrogant jerks and their holier than thou attitude as they swerve through carefully crawling cars during winter storms. What makes them THINK they are so invincible because they have 4-wheel drive? How do they miss the concept that snow equals wet equals ice equals "use greater caution you idiots because you will die"? I mean - talk about environmental factors seriously modifying behavior... I'm pretty sure these morons drive even faster just to prove to us compact car owners (aka smart people) that not only is their SUV like so all-purpose - but it kicks winters arse!

Thus, though I love the snow and Utah has some of the greatest snow, it's all sort of tainted when you not only have to drive in it, which is stressful, but have to deal with SUV driving jerks who are usually the cause of 2 hour traffic delays because they didn't think that 90mph in the left lane was any different in their awesome car of superhero death defying powers on a dry, bright, sunny July day than a gloomy blizzardy snow fall in November. Go figure. I guess that lesson only truly hits home when they're upside down in a snow bank and the Hyundai Elantra they zipped passed in the rush to be super-awesome-snow-guy honks and waves as she continues on her cautious journey to Nordstrom for make-up renewal. Just sayin... snow-karma.

Halloween Pics... finally... a week later (and a pretty entertaining video WORTH waiting for)

I truly have lost control of my personal life. Yes, I am posting my Halloween pictures nearly a week later. What of it? At least I’m posting them. I really think this is representative of my life – I feel like I’m a full 7 days behind and almost in no way will be able to catch up. Rather a disheartening scenario, no? Sigh. Alas, I need to reevaluate my priorities – maybe when schools over – in 2 years.

For Halloween I was a Roller Derby Girl. Yes, I was inspired by the movie Whip-it as well as the appeal of wearing a fluffy pink petticoat in public. What’s more, I borrowed “tattoo sleeves” from my friend Terilyn, and felt pretty bad-ass in them. They look incredibly authentic and I almost felt a certain empowerment sporting them on my arms. I think that’s why Halloween is one of my favorite holidays – I have the opportunity to be someone completely different for a night; to play a character in a play that's different from the one you've been assigned (or self-selected); but lets leave the philosophizing for another time... in 2 years maybe.

Terilyn and I at Thriller on Friday night. What what! Some pretty powerful ladies!

Saturday night I went to the Utah vs. Wyoming game (and nearly had a heart attack the whole time - that team is going to be the DEATH of me - why must we wait until the last half of the 4th quarter to show up and play some real football? I ASK YOU!); and of course, the Muss had to make a showing by dressing up "black hole" style. My friend Eyring and I looked pretty hard core... and by hard core I might mention how much the vampy teeth add to my overall bad-assidness already assumed by my wicked arm-tats. The final chapter (and by far the most entertaining) of my Halloween-ing this year happened in the workplace. We had a week long United Way campaign at my place of employment the week of Halloween and part of the campaign entailed a "donation race" to see which executive could illicit the most funds in his "jar" thus making him eligible to prance around the office in a blow up ballerina costume.

And my supervisor won...

And he LOVED it.

Perhaps I'm not the only one that's slightly lost control of my personal life.

Last night, I dreamt of London again.

Yes, I am trying to capture the dark ethereal magic of Daphne du Maurier's opening lines from her novel Rebecca, which begins "I dreamt of Manderley again" (chiiiiiills). I'm not sure how well I captured that - but I thought it fitting as I did, in fact, dream of London again.

I dream of London a lot. Is that strange? Shrug. I guess most dreams tend to be strange and mine are generally extremely abstract, so I guess asking someone to label a dream subject as strange is asking someone to label pretzels as salty. It's what they are - naturally. But I do dream of London and this morning, I fought very decisively not to leave Oxford street and continue my search for a reasonably priced flat (yes... I realize the irony... "reasonably priced flat in London"... dream on sista... dream on) when the fuzzy lines between dreaming and waking are interspersed with sounds from the "real world" translating over to the "dream world." No! Please let me stay here.

I'm not in London anymore - fantastically or in reality (duh). I have been though so it's not completely ridiculous that I dream of the city. I spent a mere 6 weeks in London on a study abroad with the University of Utah after which I subsequently wrote a prose heavy "research analysis" of it's "foggy lanterns piercing the rippled surface of the darkening Thames as I scurried to my hotel near the Baker's street tube stop. Dark figures glided like ghosts along pavements while a stray black cat confidently strutted across my path; the misty air glistening off its mangey fur" - oh my. Clearly someone (it's me) has transported us all back to Sir Arther Conan Doyle's Holmesian London or has been taking Virginia Wolfe far too seriously (and you know what happens when you take Virginia Wolfe a little too seriously... the misty clouds thus roll forth and you put rocks in your pockets).

Never the less - whatever Freud might say of my reoccurring London dreams having something to do with my subconscious longing to escape into a world so very different from my own (true) or my strange inherent desire to project my inner Mary Poppins (also true); I loved London and I want to go (back) to London and I believe that once I get to London again, I will be staying in London indefinitely. Perhaps London is sending these subliminal messages through my dreams, beckoning me to join it again and experience all that London is. And who am I to say no to London? Especially when it goes through the trouble of consistently invading my dreams. Dickens would never say no to London! And that's reason enough for me.