Operation Ute Fans

By Special Guest-Blogger Mike.

Early morning...November 22, 2008.

The rapid pounding on our front door jolted me awake from a deep sleep. Stumbling from my bed, blurry eyed and as cranky as a junkyard dog, I squinted to see the fuzzy glowing numbers emitted from the clock on my nightstand. It was 1:47 a.m.

Drowsy, half-dressed and carrying the only weapon I could find--a souvenir "Carlos V" sword from Spain--I felt my way down my dark hallway. I reached the front door, unlatched the lock, raised my sword menacingly in the air, and with a barbaric yawp, swung open the door.

The bitter November air rushed into my lungs sending ice pricklies throughout my body. Through the dim I could see a hooded figure wearing the deepest shade of royal blue (in fact, he looked a lot like a USU Aggie fan) fleeing my yard, jumping into a get-away car and speeding off into the night.

What was left behind was chaos. A mess of blue and white crepe paper illuminated only by moonlight was strewn about like a spider's web. Balloons the size of Max Hall's head (and, undoubtedly filled with the same light-weight material) hovered over the yard. It was clear what had happened. My home had been cougar-fied on the morning of the Utah/BYU football game.

The next morning as my children arose to survey the damage, they too were filled with a sense of disgust. My older children, Christian and Haley, stood stoically in the front yard staring at what had once been our lovely home but which was now desecrated in royal blue. For little Paige, however, the insult was too much to bear. She threw herself on her bed and sobbed:  "Now.....people will think...that we are...Cougar fans!"

As the father and spiritual leader of the Mayfield clan, I knew exactly how to help my children heal from the cruel vandalism of our home. I gathered my family together and convened a family counsel. I reminded my children of the lessons they had learned at church. I reviewed with them the countless family-home-evening lessons we had shared as a family. We even recited the golden rule together. When we finished, it was clear that there was only one right thing to do.

“Get revenge, right Dad?” asked Christian. “Exactly, my son.”

That morning, Operation Ute Fan was born.

Early morning...November 28, 2010.

A wise man once said that revenge is a dish best served cold. For two years, we plotted our revenge on the coug-lovin’ vandal (to protect his identify on this public forum we will only disclose that his first name is Jonathan and his last name starts with a “Z” and rhymes with “ollinger”). We planned. We schemed. We orchestrated. We knew where he lived, where he worked, where he went school, and where he slept. Like the Count of Monte Cristo, we patiently awaited while the vandal grew drunk in what he perceived to be his successful assault on our home. Then, just when he felt comfortable that he had escaped without any retribution….we pounced!

Paige and Haley spent that fateful morning hand-making pro-Utah signs (and a few anti-BYU signs too, if you include the sign that said “BYU…smells like pooh”). Christian mapped out our schedule and assault routes. I called our spy (an insider living in the vandal’s house) to make sure our plan would go off without interference.

The planning stage completed, we went to the mess hall for our last pre-mission meal. We knew that the physical and emotion demands of our mission would require a nutritious breakfast of pancakes with maple syrup.

After breakfast, we left mission control and headed for the munitions depot where we selected our weapons of choice.

Haley armed herself with crimson crepe paper.

Christian wielded a club of Ute wrapping paper.

In a wonderfully ironic twist, Paige selected red and white balloons filled with Max Hall's gray matter.

Heavily armed, and moving with the speed and skill of a team of stealth ninjas, we made our assault on the home of our vandal.  We started at his door….

....then moved to his bedroom, and then at last to his bed. Our message was clear: “Hey Mr. Cougar Fan…Ute Nation knows where you live and we know where you sleep!”

And that afternoon, our revenge was completed as the mighty Utah Utes claimed a thrilling victory over the Cougs. Final score: 17-16.

After the game, Haley and I rushed the field and made our pilgrimage to the exact spot where Utah's Brandon Burton, just minutes earlier, had blocked a field goal attempt to deliver a bitter loss to the Cougs. As we stood on that hallowed ground, we thought about the life lessons we had learned from Operation Ute Fan.

We learned that as a family we could become united in a noble cause. We learned how important it was to set a goal and accomplish it. We learned that spending time during family home evening planning the downfall of our enemy is a great way to bring happiness to our home.

And most of all, we learned that revenge served at any temperature….tastes really, really good.