Memoirs from the Mount: BYU football has manufactured its own identity crisis

Welcome to Memoirs from the Mount, a weekly adventure through the twisting catacombs of my ever-decaying stream of consciousness. From the solitary peak of Mount Fuji to the cascading slopes of Mount Timpanogos, I'm sending a telegram of my perspective on current events surrounding BYU athletics.

I fell to my knees. An inconsolable, sobbing heap on the linoleum floor of the Big C supermarket.

A new post, complimentary of @BYUFootball on X, had struck the core of my very soul. To the depths of my essence, the uniform schedule was delivered through the power of the internet and posted on the line directly to the scratched-up screen of my iPhone 12 in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

I wasn't taken by surprise, but the confirmation remained disappointing. Since introducing alternative helmets in 2021, BYU football's wardrobe has become a swinging rack of rotating options, a dizzying dance of dazzling drip, and an unpredictable combination of seemingly infinite selections. Leaning head-on into said possibilities, BYU's equipment team grew frustrated with the rigid limitations of the claw machine in front of them and decided to take matters into their own hands. Stuffing an arm through the prize retrieval hole at the bottom left, they dug their ever-stretching fingers into the inaccessible toy bin. The sharp, dingy plastic digging into the flesh of their shoulders sparked pain nearly intense enough to cry out in anguish before the hope of the soft, tangible prize reached their grasp. Grazing. Swiping. Eyes welling up with tears of resignation, they finally withdrew from the clearly fruitless task.

The ensuing sounds of crashing glass was an inevitable encore. Smashing head-first through the walls of a children's coin-guzzler, the prize had been obtained. Ecstasy is one heck of a drug, and the feeling of reaching a crowd-pleasing variant of the classic Cougar blues is met by none other. Or so I imagined this playing out in my head.

But I do not consider myself among the crowd. I'm a fundamentalist hipster who is tired of the awkward combinations and begs, nay, pleads for the boat to stop rocking for just a moment. BYU football looks best when it plays the hits -- I've had enough deep cuts and Dave Matthews covers.

At the risk of sounding like a 65-year-old decked out in a block-Y ball cap and a tan-accented navy sweater spelling out Brigham Young Cougars with the hunchback Cosmo descending from his throne atop the summit, I have a strong opinion about BYU's football uniforms, and it's horribly boring.

White helmets. Blue tops and white bottoms for home games. White tops and blue bottoms for away games. This is the winning formula. This is the iconic appearances college football fans identify with Brigham Young University, and one of the sharpest looks in all of the nation. Cut the cute stuff, and run with what works.

"But with the endless flood of uniform combinations at BYU's disposal, do the Cougars lose their own identity by broadening their palette?"

Of course, I've been known to enjoy the annual Holy War color rush or the occasional white-out. Even a 23-year-old fogey like myself can acknowledge that the flavor gets stale without throwing a bit of spice into the pot from time to time. But with the endless flood of uniform combinations at BYU's disposal, do the Cougars lose their own identity by broadening their palette?

Who knows? I'm no expert on color theory or athletic marketing. But I have feelings, and this is my outlet. If this becomes a written work of art through the medium of sports blogging, so be it.

The shift away from navy and back to royal was a wise adjustment, and I refuse to suggest otherwise. Where navy blends, royal pops. Where royal rocks, navy rolls. Royal is an identity, navy is conformity. When the Cougars wear the white and blue, let us pray that blue remains royal, and the white abstains from creeping into bone or (heaven forbid) eggshell.

I say all this to come to this natural conclusion: BYU football is going mainstream. And like it or not, but appearance means a great deal for recruiting, retainment, engagement, and respect from meaningful observers across the nation. As the Cougars fight to maintain their national relevance developed over the past several seasons, leaning into their identity could be a crucial aspect of that fight. Win this battle by discovering yourself, Cougs. Your identity lies in your roots.

Stick with the classics. This is my request.

Calvin Barrett is a writer, editor, and prolific Mario Kart racer located in Tokyo, Japan. Currently writing for SB Nation and FanSided, he has covered the Utah Jazz and BYU athletics since 2024 and graduated from Utah Valley University.