Fui Vakapuna, Where Art Thou?

by Robison Wells

Erin and I went to the BYU-San Diego State football game on Saturday, and it was a bittersweet event. It was the final home game of the season, which also means that it was the final BYU game that we'll ever attend as students. (Unless I decide to come back for a PhD, which would cause my wife to shoot me in the head. So, probably no football then, either.)

Way back in the day--probably seven years ago--we had season tickets in the alumni section, which was nice because we didn't have to stand up the entire game, but also sad because we had to sit with grumpy old people. These were the kinds of folks who are best described as codgers and coots, and who were still leery of that upstart kid Lavell Edwards and wished we could go back to the good old days of Tommy Hudspeth. The old man sitting behind us would refer to all the players by their first names, and generally leave the game during the third quarter, regardless of the score, so he could beat traffic. But, at least we got to sit down.

Now we're in the student section, which is considerably louder, and considerably standier, and with considerably more flirting going on. And, you can rest assured that when you're surrounded by a bunch of freshmen who are hepped up on adrenalin, testosterone, and face paint, the flirting isn't exactly romantic.

The guys who sit behind us certainly aren't in any danger of romance, however. It's a trio of nerds (that's a technical term) who are skinny and pasty and probably have gained all their knowledge of sports from John Madden Football on the Super Nintendo. (Not the new version, but the old 1988 version, where there were only six players on the field, and they all looked like little yellow blobs.) These guys have provided us with color commentary for the entire season, and Erin and I have been growing progressively more amused.

The conversations between these guys have three major themes: first, everything that happens in the game was a major failure on the part of BYU. If BYU runs the ball up the middle, the Trio will angrily complain that they should have passed. If BYU passed, then they should have run. Even if BYU threw a long pass and got fifty yards on the play, the Trio will indignantly declare that if BYU players knew how to actually make a block or break a tackle, they'd have gotten a touchdown. In other words, the Trio is a trio of idiocy.

The second major topic of conversation is the runningback Fui Vakapuna--specifically, how every play would be better if Fui was involved. (For those of you who are unaware, Fui was a star during his sophomore year, consistently being awesome until he hurt his ankle. But, for the last couple years, he's been second string, and he's kind of sucked.) But, to listen to the Trio, Fui should touch the ball on every play.

Third, the Trio thinks that they could do everything better, and often discuss how much they'd like to be on the coaching staff. (Because pasty, sun-starved nerds make great football coaches?)

So, this last week's game was against San Diego, which was a team no one was really concerned about, and the crowd was considerably quieter than usual. Consequently, we could hear every moronic word uttered by the Trio--and we discovered that they were even funnier than we had previously thought.

For crying out loud, the BAND came on at halftime, and the Trio complained that the BAND wasn't any good. And the band was even catering to nerds! They played music from video games, even forming a field-wide tetris game, with groups of band members acting as falling pieces. And the Trio still hated it!

"Maybe if they'd played the soundtrack to DragonForce," said Nerd A. "Then I'd have some respect for them."

"No doubt," said Nerd B.

Anyway, the band finished up with a tribute to Guitar Hero, and they had a guy come out and play electric guitar. The Trio declared: "Listen to that--he's not even playing it clean!"

Erin leaned over to me and said "Fui could have played it clean."

Then we exchanged a solemn look, taking in the gravity of the situation. One day, Fui will save us all.