Projectiles and Snuggies

When we found out ESPN's College Gameday was coming to Provo, we knew we had to be there. If you've ever seen it, you know that there are tons of crazy fans there, and a load of signs, all hoisted on poles, that say things like "Charlie Weis? Better hide the twinkies" or "Corso is a loser". We knew it would be an early Saturday morning, considering we knew that people were camping out and the show began taping live at 8 a.m. Well the night before we ran to Wal-Mart, picked up some posterboard and a giant sharpie, and sat down to make our legendary signs. The first was easy. How would people know it was us on TV? Simple. A giant sign that says "HELMET GUY" with an arrow pointing down. We didn't really have to worry about originality because odds were good that no one else was going to show up with that same sign. The second was a little more challenging. Some thoughts that went through my head were "Herbstreit wears women's underwear" and "Corso and Jesus love the Cougs". However, I knew that BYU's finest, armed with electric shavers and hair clippers, would be stalking the grounds, making sure everyone attending was clean shaven, wearing knee-length shorts, and representing BYU well. After all, if College Gameday went to heaven, WWJD? Certainly no references to women's underwear or Himself. Somewhere around 2 a.m. the thought struck me--or maybe it was that intoxicating Sharpie smell. Yeah, we were hotboxing it in our tiny apartment with a Sharpie.

Trying to get into Gameday was a fiasco. Thousands of people were in line to get in and get a spot where they could get on TV. Finally we got to the gate, but were turned away because I was wearing my helmet. Evidently, BYU Police were afraid I would become enraged if Corso put on that cursed Horned Frog Mascot head, and subsequently try to launch my helmet and knock Corso out with a double round-house helmet to the face. Really? I mean I told them I would expect that kind of thing from Patrice, but certainly not from me!

Well the helmet and I were not to be separated (we had made a binding contract, sealed in blood, the day I made it) so we tried to find a spot where the signs could still get on TV. The Fuzz was on to me though--they knew a disgruntled special needs child like myself would try and do something stupid. Then they saw the sign. But I wasn't even holding it. There, above the crowd, held by dear, innocent, sweet Patrice, read the words: "Gary Patterson wears a Snuggie!" Yes, that's right, we were accusing TCU's head coach of atrocious behavior. Mothers wept and turned away, shielding their babies eyes from the offensive words. Fathers cried out in horror at such a disgusting display of disgustingness. Somewhere, high in the administrative offices of BYU, President Samuelson sighed, shook his head in sorrow, and changed the channel, whispering a prayer for our lost souls.

The sign was ripped from Patrice's grip, and thrown into a burning pile, where I also spotted Catcher in the Rye and the cursed witchcraft series of Harry Potter. No place in the world for garbage like that.

Well to make a long story long, Patrice and I escaped with our lives and still managed to get a little TV time. Well, at least she did.

And Corso was still just a helmet's throw away.