In the name of journalism, I recently experienced a BYU football game the way people with money experience a BYU football game.
By this, I mean I ate chocolate-covered strawberries.
And baked salmon.
And barbecued ribs.
All at roughly the same time.
I did this while hanging out in a large, white tent just behind the northeast corner of the stadium, where "gold" members of the Cougar Club hang out.
And eat. I didn't see any hot dogs or hamburgers, but if I had, I wouldn't have bothered. There was roast beef, with a chef ready to cut me off as many slices as I wanted. Popcorn? Surely you jest. I ate some kind of fancy chicken smothered in sauce and rice.
There was a fountain that flowed — not with water — but chocolate.
White chocolate in one fountain, regular in the other. The idea, I learned after observing the veterans, was to stab a slice of fruit with a toothpick and hold it under the fountain till it was covered. The rest was easy.
It was all in a day's work. Somebody has to do it. And somebody does do it, provided he has spare cash and a serious devotion to BYU football.
As a gold member of the Cougar Club, you are entitled to park within a punt of the back gate and to rub shoulders with the type of people who have Cadillacs in their garages and videotapes of the '81 Miracle Bowl in their homes and think the world has gone downhill since 1984.
As a gold member, you can hang out in the tent before, during and after the game to graze between touchdowns (or interceptions and fumbles).
While you eat, you can watch other games on TV and listen to Tom Holmoe, the former Cal coach and BYU star, give a pregame scouting report, augmented by the actual videotapes that the coaches used to scout the opponents for the day's game. He also discussed some of the opposing team's tendencies and a lot of other stuff — I'm not sure, because I wasn't really listening. I was back at the chocolate fountain.
After you've had your fill at the pregame trough, you actually remember the reason you're here: dessert. Oh, wait, the game! You don't even have to leave the tent since you can watch the game on TV in here, and considering the way the Cougars are playing these days maybe you shouldn't.
(It's a good thing they don't serve alcohol here, or these super fans would be drowning their sorrows in something other than a second cheesecake and Sprite.) On the other hand, choice seats are part of the package.
Eight years ago, BYU took a section of the bleaches from the student section on the east side of the stadium and converted it into luxury chairs. Price for center section seats: $1,000 per seat, plus a $1,000 annual donation to the Cougar Club for golden Cougar status, or $500 per seat, plus a $500 donation for silver Cougar status.
One problem: The seats stare right into the afternoon sun. For the money these people are paying, you'd think they could buy one of those seats in the shade.
Actually, they can't. A little history: When the stadium was built in 1964, and again when it was expanded in 1982, BYU offered fans a chance to purchase prime west-side seats for their lifetime and the lifetime of one of their children for the price of a one-time donation of $250 in 1964 and $750 in 1982.
In today's market, that's the equivalent of a yard sale.
Bottom line: Many of those seats are tied up for the next 80 or 90 years. And they went cheap. So BYU is out a big source of income.
"We have people say they'll give us a blank check if we can give them two seats on the 50-yard line," says athletic director Val Hale.
"They'll pay almost anything. But we can't do it."
So in 1995, BYU took the center section of the east stands away from the students and put them up for sale.
If the price of those seats and lunch with chocolate fountains sounds expensive, it's because it is — unless you shop around. Before a ticket is even sold, Alabama makes $8 million each year just from fans making the required booster donation that allows them to buy the best tickets. It turns out that the seats aren't the big expense. It's the donation that fans must pay up front before they can buy the tickets. The University of Texas requires a $2,500 donation for a chance to buy season tickets between the 10- and 30-yard lines. Double that donation for mid-field seats.
So in BYU's efforts to keep up with the Alabamas and Michigans and USC's, they're offering prime east-side seats and the chocolate strawberries.
"We hoped to give people an experience," says Hale. "It's been a big hit."
The football team is another story.
E-MAIL: drob@desnews.com