SIXTEEN YEARS have passed since that November afternoon, yet he remembers every detail clearly: fourth-and-17 with 3 1/2 minutes to go in the game, the ball on the 19 yard-line. He remembers the play: 30-pro, 77-X - a deep cutback route by the wide receiver. He remembers his quarterback towel, on which he wrote with a marker, "Remember 1977."
He remembers calling out the count, and his favorite receiver, Frank Henry, "putting a move on like I've never seen since," and the pass working perfectly for the winning touchdown.Randy Gomez remembers everything about the day in 1978 when the University of Utah beat BYU at Rice Stadium, 23-22. "Look at me," says Gomez sheepishly. "I'm talking a million miles an hour. That's because it's the BYU game."
Getting excited for the Utah-BYU game was never a problem for the former Ute quarterback, who led them to their first win over BYU in seven seasons that late-autumn day. He knew after absorbing a 38-6 pounding by BYU his junior year (1977) that the Utah-BYU game was different; that it would always be different. "It's hard to live here without winning that game," he says.
Gomez's return to the rivalry was a long time coming. After his senior season in 1978, he began a seven-year professional baseball career that included 55 games in the major leagues as a catcher with San Francisco and the Chicago White Sox. Nevertheless, he longed for his beloved game of football. On the long baseball road trips, he brought a football along and warmed up by tossing it around.
"I can still throw a football all day," says Gomez, in his third year as a graduate assistant working with Utah's quarterbacks. "I get goose bumps just playing catch."
After finishing his baseball career, Gomez returned to football as a coach at the College of San Mateo, then spent three years as a sales rep for a national company. "I was getting more and more miserable every year," he says.
So Gomez decided to return to what made him happiest: football. He convinced Ute coach Ron McBride, who was an assistant coach at Utah when Gomez played, to take him as a graduate assistant.
"I don't need a bunch of money to be happy," Gomez says. "I don't need fancy cars or a huge house. I want to be a coach."
Specifically, Gomez wanted to coach at Utah. His friends, his degree and the best memories of his life were acquired in Salt Lake City. "As a player, I was a wild man. I've still got that in me, though I don't do the things I did in college. But I can be a kid the rest of my life as a coach," he says. "And I don't want to grow up. I love college football on Saturdays and this is where I feel at home. There's nothing better to me than football."
Though years have passed since he played against BYU, and Gomez is a family man with a steady job, his feelings haven't changed. Like his coach in 1978, Wayne Howard, he still hates BYU. "It's just a rivalry hatred. It's nothing personal," he says. "I'm glad it's a North-South type thing. Someone's got to be your rival. It brings out the best in the teams."
Gomez has never been to Cougar Stadium to watch a game and he never plans to. The place gives him the creeps. He'd rather run his fingers down a chalkboard all night than drive through Provo. "You won't see me there," he says. "I get as far as Point of the Mountain, I get an eerie feeling. It's weird. I don't like the place."
The Utah Man stops momentarily to catch his breath, then is off again, talking a million miles an hour about football and rivalries and moments he'll never forget. He probably won't tell the same stories to this year's Ute players before Saturday's BYU-Utah game, which is fine with him. Kids raised on video games and fast food aren't likely to have the patience to listen to war stories. "I could go on and on about the game," he says. "But I shouldn't have to."
Gomez knows he shouldn't have to tell them what the next year will be like if the Utes lose to their old rival. Or how many times the highlights will be replayed and how many articles they'll read and how many reminders there will be in the months and years to come. He shouldn't have to say anything to get them ready for the biggest game of the year. The biggest game of every year.