Estimated read time: 7-8 minutes
SALT LAKE CITY — They hawked 2,200 standing-room-only tickets for Thursday's football game here. Never before have so many people climbed the steps of Rice-Eccles Stadium to watch an event.
The new attendance record: 53,644.
The final score: Utah 24, Florida 11.
The call on the concession staff's two-way radios: "We're gonna need more hot dogs."
Amid all that, I had mixed feelings.
On one hand, I was thrilled to be present at an important college football game in the month of August. Two interesting teams suited up and played. And the crowd was peppy and packed into the place shoulder-to-shoulder. It was a blast. On the other hand, Week 1 is essentially the beginning of the end.
Press boxes are sterile and can sometimes feel detached. I like to take a quick walk around the stadium before kickoff. On Thursday, with spectators buzzing and chattering to each other, I took that stroll and was reminded of one my favorite F. Scott Fitzgerald passages.
"I like large parties," he once wrote. "They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy."
There are few things in college football as complex as the final minutes before kickoff. Nobody quite knows what is about to happen. Simultaneously, everyone is absolutely certain they know. The duality of that drives the tailgate debates.
Utah quarterback Cam Rising wasn't in uniform on Thursday during warm-ups. He was wearing a white t-shirt, red shorts and a baseball cap. Bryson Barnes got the start.
I don't know if you've ever found a book you loved so much you couldn't put it down. You can savor a novel. You can read a little slower and linger on your favorite pages. But a college football season isn't like that. It's more like an ice cream cone.
Admire it all you'd like, but at some point the thing begins to melt. You either start consuming it or risk leaving a puddle of chocolate on the sidewalk. As much as we'd like this final Pac-12 season to unfold methodically and rationally it's basically a three-month scramble followed by a conference title game in Las Vegas and some awkward goodbyes.
This 108-year-old football conference is going to officially end as we know it in December. The teams will scatter like classmates after high school graduation. They'll promise to keep in touch. And maybe a couple will. But the conference as we know it will essentially evaporate one beautiful week of football at a time.
Backup QB Bryson Barnes leads No. 14 Utah to 24-11 season-opening win over Florida
Bryson Barnes heard the critics, and silenced the doubters Thursday night.Oregon, Washington, USC and UCLA will leave for the Big Ten. Arizona, Arizona State, Colorado and Utah will join the Big 12. Stanford and Cal to the ACC. For Washington State and Oregon State maybe it's off to the Mountain West and/or the American Athletic Conference? Or a rebuilt Pac-whatever? It all sounds so ridiculous, even as I write it now.
The Pac-12 had problems. It was a mismanaged, under-funded mess. The television network was poorly distributed. The commissioners refused to lead. In the end, the presidents and chancellors didn't understand the assignment. But the Pac-10 or Pac-12 was your conference. The one your grandfather watched with you.
It's sort of like what late 49ers receiver Dwight Clark said when he was told that Candlestick Park would be torn down after 54 frigid seasons of wind-whipping players and fans.
Said Clark: "It was a dump, but it was our dump."
I suppose that explains why I lingered for a moment on Thursday as I walked through the Rice-Eccles Stadium gates, remembering some of the wild Pac-12 games I'd witnessed there.
• In 2014 … I saw Utah receiver Kaelin Clay catch a would-be touchdown pass, only to drop the ball and begin celebrating just before reaching the end zone. Oregon's Joe Walker noticed, scooped up the loose ball and raced 100 yards the opposite direction for a score. UO reeled off 24 unanswered points.
• In 2016 … Justin Herbert threw a 17-yard TD to Darren Carrington with two seconds left as Oregon upset No. 11 Utah. It gave embattled coach Mark Helfrich the fourth and final win of his last season as coach. I walked into the postgame news conference, looked around and noticed that Phil Knight and athletic director Rob Mullens didn't attend. I knew on the spot that Helfrich was cooked.
• In 2021 … I watched Utah ambush Oregon. The Utes had a 21-0 lead with 11 seconds left in the first half. The Ducks lined up on fourth down to punt the ball. They should have kicked it away from all-world return man Britain Covey and went to the locker room behind by three scores. UO could have punted the ball off the scoreboard and been OK. Instead, the Ducks foolishly kicked to Covey. He returned it 78 yards for a back-breaking touchdown. The stadium almost tipped right over.
Last season, I watched Clark Phillps III bait Oregon State quarterback Chance Nolan into a pick six on the field at Rice-Eccles Stadium. Two weeks later, Utah scored a touchdown and a 2-point conversion in the final minute to upset USC 43-42 on the same stage. And so on Thursday, it was Florida's turn to spend a couple of hours in the red blender.
Utah was without Rising, though.
All week, everyone figured Utes offensive coordinator Andy Ludwig would call a steady diet of run plays and shorten the game. Instead, he dialed up a play-action pass on the first offensive call of the season. The result was a 70-yard touchdown strike from Barnes to Money Parks.
I spoke briefly with Ludwig about it after the game.
"Hell of a call," I told him.
"Thanks," he said, smiling.
There's a simplicity to football. The offense blocks, passes and runs. The defense tries to tackle the ballcarrier. It's 10 yards for a first down. Four plays to get it. Ludwig's call was counterintuitive but also downright simple. The juxtaposition was a George Costanza-like maneuver.
"If every instinct you have is wrong," as Costanza once said, "then the opposite would have to be right."
Maybe Ludwig was just in a hurry to get the final season started and make every play call count. He didn't sit around waiting to see if an opportunity might present itself. He kicked the door in. It was a jarring start. Sort of like watching two boxers touch gloves at the beginning of a match, immediately followed by one of them dipping his shoulder and launching an uppercut.
Florida was administered a standing-eight count.
Utah wasn't perfect on Thursday night. It was, however, more opportunistic than the Gators and played a more complete game. Also, the Utes always conjure magic playing at Rice-Eccles Stadium. People show up to see it, too. The current list of the top-12 crowds in stadium history features opponents such as Michigan, UCLA, Oregon and USC.
Utah is 12-0 in those games.
Florida fans will blame the opening-day loss on officiating, long travel and the ghost of Dan Mullen, among other things. The Gators must know that this is just what Utah does. Kyle Whittingham is a boa constrictor. He grabs your team around the throat and doesn't let it go for a few hours or until it stops moving. I suspect he'll continue to do the same in the Big 12.
I don't know what's going to happen in this final Pac-12 season. Utah has the league's most difficult schedule. USC has the best player. Oregon, Oregon State and Washington all look talented enough to get to Las Vegas. And don't count UCLA out, either.
I know what I'll do, though.
I'll listen a little closer to the chatter of Pac-12 fans. I'll walk a tad slower around the stadiums. I'll think about all the wild and wonderful things I've seen in this conference over the years.
I watched Utah beat Florida on Thursday. The Utes defeated an SEC opponent without a few of their best players in uniform. It's possible the final Pac-12 season will be one of the best in history and give us all sorts of fun moments.
The Utes sold a bunch of standing-room-only tickets for Thursday's game.
It was a nice start.
Read more of columnist John Canzano exclusively at JohnCanzano.com.
