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Hi. I'm an anonymous African American football player at the University of Utah. On the eve of this game you might wonder: why would a talented young black man such as myself go to a place that doesn't have many of my people in it?

You'd be surprised as to the reasons why. First, Coach Whittingham has done a great job making sure everyone's comfortable here. He has prayer groups for the Mormons so they feel comfortable. He makes sure we know about churches here in our community, too, and lets us know how welcome and valued we are.

Second, it's a great community: clean, quiet, and with just enough things to do if you want to stay busy. The outdoor sports scene is great if you like it. There are clubs, and you can hang out with the Utah Jazz if you want to--it's a big city, sure, but it's got that small town vibe, too.

Third, it really is a great football program. I've learned so much here, and grown so much as a person. I owe the fans and the program so much, and will be a Ute for life.

You know why I really went here?

You betcha: the old-fashioned hot retro gayness of it all.

As a gay football player, I could have gone to any number of football programs offering up a red-hot cauldron of man-meat marinading in a steamy broth of testosterone, hair gel, and house music. Miami, Cal, or Georgia Tech, for example, all would have offered proximity to vibrant gay communities filled with the things most gay men find necessary: gyms, gyms, well-decorated bars with single-word names, dog know. The essentials.

I was charmed, though, by the retro-poofery of Utah. You know who's gay from the start. The male French teacher you meet at the grocery store buying spelt bread? In some towns, you might be hitting on a straight guy with "diverse interests," but in Utah? He's always 100% totally and completely gay. So is someone's "crazy uncle," the guy who wears Christmas Sweaters in May, and youth counselors at churches.

It's like being gay in the 1950s, really, and that's what charmed me so completely and utterly into going to Utah. I don't have to be on the "down-low" here. I just have to deal with being "sensitive" and "artistic," and that's my cross to bear for the cost of the guilty, hot, shame-stained sex I'm having with your "zany" hairdresser in the back of his Dodge Caliber on a desert road just outside of Salt Lake.

It's like I'm James Bond, and I'm on a secret mission every day to infiltrate the enemy. And his ass.


Anonymous Gay Ute

ps. Alex Smith? No, though believe me, I wish he was.

pps. Good thing about Mormons? Not clingy, as they never call back.

ppps. We're going to die tonight, but the upside? Hot confused Bama boys in the Quarter, baby! Mmm, those bangs...