WyoUtes

I am going to post something on this blog every day this week. Because I care and because I can. Check in for the daily BYU smack and updates on the tailgate and the game:

But first I want to start this week with a simple, inspirational story about the love of a father for his son:

As most of you know, I hate BYU so much that it is bordering on the unhealthy. I have always understood that this hatred is the Ying to my Yang. The Bada to My Bing the Dizzle to my Fashizzle. But the other day it went to far and I made my son cry because of my hatred of BYU.

You see, I have several weird superstitions that I live by during football season: First, I wear red every day during rivalry week. Second, I NEVER wear the weeks opponent's colors the day before or the day of a game. Third, I NEVER wear blue on Friday. EVER! And that is just a few...

A couple of weeks ago my wife comes home with a bunch of shirts from Ian's school. North Park shirts for everyone, because we show our support for our kids not by helping them with their homework or volunteering, but by all of us wearing identical f-ing t-shirts on Fridays. Problem: They are blue.. and if you wear blue on Friday you look like this guy:

So, as you can imagine Ian was all excited for he and his Dad to wear the same shirt and really couldn't understand why I began ranting and raving about not wearing blue on Friday. His eyes teared up, his lip stuck out...

and for a minute I felt really bad. I looked into his eyes, and realized that I was imposing my beliefs on the little guy. It wasn't his fault that my prejudices had grown so completely out of whack. Just because Santa wears red doesn't mean everyone has to:

I told him I loved him, and that I was proud of him and he could wear anything he wanted to school. I got him in his coat and put his back pack on and sent him out the door. I felt great. I felt like the Father of the Year... and then I remembered there was one last piece of advice I needed to give him and just as he got on the bus I yelled: