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.
Night settles into its depth as I find myself in sleep's chokehold.
Tossing, rolling, writhing, I struggle to gather composure as my subconscious mind grinds the throttle into overdrive. With the opening of the football season creeping ever closer to the present day -- chomping at the days between with jaws wide open and teeth like X-ACTO knives and a craze in its eyes that vows to reach you -- I've struggled to think of much else.
In all honesty, the football season is the source of my greatest anxiety, and I wish that were a joke. I'm a basketball guy, first and foremost, and that reflects in my love for NBA basketball and pure indifference to the state of the National Football League (I'm that guy who only tunes in once every February, to paint a picture). Still, college football calls to me. Beckons, like the final unopened Nutty Buddy in the pantry. Summons, like the top end of my speedometer, as I rush through the rust-dusted highways of Southern Utah. Demands my attention like Duo, the linguistic totalitarian owl, or Instagram reels during every free moment of every day. What constitutes a phone addiction?
But it's almost as if the game of football were designed to spark up tremendous anxiety from pregame to the final whistle. Seriously, think about it. The fanfare and build up to the actual introduction of play takes about 30 minutes. The national anthem is performed to mixed levels of enjoyment, teams are launched from the tunnel onto the middle of the field, boosted by the blaring horns and thunderous united applause of "The Cougar Song of BYU" (which honestly deserves a better title). We all hold our collective breath as a man in stripes throws a coin at center field. And then the game actually begins. Between every spurt of action is a 40-second tension compounder. Every 5 in-game minutes or so, a man in an orange vest will infiltrate the field of play to suspend time for a word from our corporate overlords. A football game is almost 90% anticipation and 10% gameplay. My stress levels cannot manage such an event, yet I gleefully suffer myself to enjoy the game week after week.
From the moment a football leaves the quarterback's fingertips, the rotation of the Earth briefly halts. Piercing the air and blazing its own airstream, the spiral toss hangs in the atmosphere like it's passing through taffy. The receiving target elevates and dangles in perpetuity as he wills the path of the ball into his awaiting gloves. Between these two events are infinite moments of agonizing anticipation. No one dares to look away -- none will even blink. Each morsel of action is completely intoxicating. Every heave, every rush, every cut through the buckling turf.
We're all forced to marinate in the pool of wait, and it is certainly removing years from my lifespan like the machine in the pit of despair. Golf is the same way, and the humiliation of a whiff is always overwhelmed by the glee of a striped drive down the center. Why is it, as humans, that we force ourselves to endure such stress for our entertainment and leisure? Hundreds will flock into a crowded movie theater just to scare the pants off themselves. In a public setting, individuals will pay to have their spines chill, teeth clench, and pants dampened; the scarier, the better. For some reason, the horrible feeling of dread magnifies the release and relief of its conclusion.
Being entirely cognoscente of this truth, I still drag myself to the television to witness BYU football. I sign an emotional contract at the onset of every battle: no matter the outcome, I, Calvin Barrett, understand and accept the mental, emotional, and even the physical toll of actively viewing the Brigham Young University Cougars football team. I accept full responsibility of any lasting damage, trauma, and therapy bills that may be, in any way, connected to my viewership. I do this under my own choice, and assume all responsibility of this decision.
In 2017, the season began much like this one will, now eight seasons later. A home matchup against Portland State. It was one of the most underwhelming football games I have ever had the displeasure of absorbing.
20-6 was the final result after 60 in-game minutes that included two touchdowns, two field goals, and far too many unsuccessful drives against an FCS squad. Some suggested an array of explanations. "The first game of the season is always rocky." "They just need to find a groove." "The playbook hasn't been opened yet! They're saving the good stuff for LSU next week!" In the following week, the Cougars failed to cross the 50-yard line in a 27-0 blanking to the Tigers. Two weeks later, the Wisconsin Badgers marched through LES unopposed, drubbing the home team to the tune of 40-6. Losses to Utah State, East Carolina, Fresno State, and at home against UMass corralled a heinous and absolutely forgettable campaign for the team.
Now, we await another August home opener against Portland State. May the football gods be more merciful this time around.
The same fate of an ugly season befell the 2023 Cougs after opening the year with a 14-0 win against newly-FBS Sam Houston State. Offense was a no-show that night after an opening drive score, and the boys in blue crept their way to a W. BYU lost its last 5 games on the schedule in their first Big 12 season and failed to become bowl eligible.
So here comes one more round of BYU football. And somehow, despite all the trepidation, all the worry, all the doubt, and the lingering nightmares, I'm excited to cozy up on the sofa and flip on BYU football. This year, my viewing experience will take place in the morning as the rising sun fills the Japanese landscape around me. May the product on the field share a similar beauty.
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.