Stop Abuse

It has been an exciting weekend. After the BYU Cougars' defeat of the Texas Longhorns, I decided that it would be in my best interest to purchase a ticket up to the BYU Utah game. Of course, I knew that the Cougs' chances of beating the Utes were slim- not because they are an inferior team, but because the Cougs just can’t seem to beat the Utes. I don’t know what it is.

As I was watching the destruction of the Cougars at the hands of the Utes, the following thought popped into my mind: my relationship with the BYU Cougars is like unto the relationship of a woman who has been abused by her husband/boyfriend. BYU football is the abuser in this relationship and I am the abused. 

Like many who have been abused in their lives, they justify staying in the relationship because of the small acts of kindness shown by the other spouse. These small acts can be in the form of a hug, a kiss, or a kind word. Whatever it is, the event occurs sparingly, and for all those looking from the outside it is never enough to justify what else happens in the relationship. On occasion the Cougars will show me a kind act, such as winning a meaningless bowl game, beating up on a sub-par Texas team, or even coming up with a cool slogan such as “Rise Up.” These acts are enough to invoke happiness for a moment. It is enough to give hope that the relationship will turn. But then without notice and certainly without reason or provocation, the BYU Cougars will go on a metaphorical bender and start bludgeoning me over the head with a toaster.

Following the beating I begin to have ridiculous thoughts. “It's my fault," I think to myself, "If I was just a more devoted fan the Cougars would never have lost.” Despite what my friends may say, I will continue in this forsaken relationship because I believe I can change the outcome of another person's actions.

When the beating is really bad, I try swearing off the Cougars forever.  But it's right around this time that they go out and buy me flowers (or beat an FBS team), somehow making up for their previous shortcoming.  At other times I try to punish the Cougs by vowing to not watch the next game or by refusing to wear school apparel.  But just like a neglectful partner, they simply ignore the punishment and continue living their life as if I don’t exist. The fact that they don’t care about me makes me like them more.

Deep down I hate the Cougars. I hate them for who they are and what they do to me. I hate them for all the pain they have put me through. I hate them for how much they hate me.  Most of all, I hate the fact that I love them.

So readers, I share this with you:

Once every 12 minutes a fan is abused by the BYU Cougars.

Please talk to your children and friends about not becoming a Cougar fan.