Gordon Monson: Here’s the truth about Utah and BYU

For whatever reason, universities serious about their major men’s sports over the long haul and at present fall into one of two categories: a football school or a basketball school. There are exceptions where and when an institution pulls off both, but they are exactly that.

It could be a jump to judgment here, but there are strong indications that BYU and Utah, which have had runs at being real good at each sport, are tumbling/climbing more to the norm.

Utah is the football school.

BYU the basketball school.

The folks who load into LaVell Edwards Stadium aren’t going to like this, but that doesn’t change a very clear probability.

Proud Utah basketball fans, objective ones at least, might be getting around to acknowledging the aforementioned as fact. The Utes have historically had their roundball moments, and there’s no need to review them all here. But the drought, if that’s the right word for it, Utah hoops has suffered has coincided with the school’s good news: a rise in Utah football.

Many Ute fans will see that swap as advantageous, since football is king.

There’s no arguing that, of all the coaches at Utah, Kyle Whittingham is the monarch. He’s considered to be one of the best college football coaches in the country for the best of reasons — on account of Utah’s success. Despite the fact that the Utes have lost five straight bowl games, their impressive moves through regular seasons and consistent qualifications for the now long gone Pac-12 championship game have lifted that program to new heights.

That’s why in their transition to the Big 12, facing teams from programs the Utes haven’t played in years or ever, they are favored by many college football prognosticators to win the league straightaway, thereby qualifying for the expanded playoff. They may not actually do that, but the notion that they are thought to be able to do it is a tribute to what Whittingham has made real up on the hill.

Some Utah fans have grown arrogant over that boosted reputation, presuming a bit too much, but Whittingham is keen enough to recognize the arduous ascent that stands between him, his team and a slot in the postseason tournament that is now the more reachable goal of top college football endeavors. The Utes are one of them. Imagine someone saying that about Craig Smith’s basketball team. You can’t.

Whittingham always is quick to admit that the foundation upon which his program is built is recruiting. It’s not that he and his staff have garnered what were in large numbers considered to be the best recruits and transfers in the country, but they’ve done two things to counter that. They’ve recognized and invited in athletes who may not have all been 4- and 5-star guys, but players who could grow into formidable forces. And they’ve placed them in the right spots and developed the daylights out of them. There’s a third thing, too — they’ve grown a culture within the Eccles football facility that underscores and embraces the kind of buzzard-tough, physical play that is evident in all but the rarest games when the Utes have an off night.

Nobody actually looks forward to coming into Rice-Eccles to match muscle with Utah football. That sort of rep is hard-earned and, in this case, well deserved. One caveat: a certain quarterback will have to stay healthy.

Utah basketball, conversely, is another matter. Smith is several levels down from Whittingham in the accomplishment strata, and will be coaching for his job this coming season. Utah was pretty good in the Huntsman Center this past year, but nowhere near good enough on the road, to the point where it continued its unhappy elongated streak of missing the NCAA Tournament, a minimal standard for any self-respecting college hoops outfit.

Bottom line, the Utes are no longer a premier basketball school. Not even close. That is evidenced by the ho-hum records they’ve posted in recent seasons, although they have improved bit by bit in Smith’s time, by the annual turnover among players in the program, and also the abysmal attendance numbers at the Huntsman. Many fans no longer show up at games and those who actually do have resigned themselves to an overall type of blah mediocrity. If folks have little hope for something special to be done by a team, they tend to sag off into a state of despair.

Let’s reiterate: Utah is a football school, not a basketball school.

And if there is lingering debate about that, watch what happens through the first pass through the Big 12, which may not be the most elite football league in the country, but it is the best basketball conference.

BYU is the opposite, which is apparent to anyone paying attention.

As a part of the Cougars’ initial Big 12 experience, football hacked and heaved to a 5-7 record, 2-7 in league, showing moments of promise, but only moments. They finished the season with five straight losses. Basketball, on the other hand, surprised a whole lot of people, finishing well above what was expected among that difficult group of opposition.

Again, no reason to revisit every sorry element of what players, coaches and fans lived through last season, but BYU lurched offensively, the school’s football calling card for most seasons going all the way back to LaVell’s years. It couldn’t run the ball consistently, couldn’t pass it, and coaches struggled to figure out any other way to advance the durn thing. They could punt it.

And there don’t appear to be a whole lot of promises for whatever comes next, other than additional hardships in lifting the deal out of its current subterranean gulch. The stars at key skill positions of the past, the ones who transformed BYU football 50 years ago and continued its prowess in later decades, are now scarce, if not absent. Quarterbacks who lifted the program beyond its expectations have shown up here and there, but where are they now?

Meanwhile, basketball is on the rise. Mark Pope had enough bright spots, which most recently included the apex — a road win over Kansas, to impress Kentucky to the point where the Wildcats hired the coach away. That in and of itself was a loud statement. And funny thing is, it’s getting better now that Pope left. At least that’s the way it looks.

You know the story. BYU was willing to find the money to hire Kevin Young, a Phoenix Suns assistant on his way to becoming a head coach in the NBA, and since that hiring two months ago, Young has successfully recruited in two projected NBA lottery picks in the 2025 draft, as well as other top 100 national recruits. Young also has brought in top transfers and retained current Cougars who were thought to be on their way to other established college programs. It’s as though the hurdle that once was the school’s honor code, as far as hooping goes, has been disassembled.

To call BYU a basketball school before Young has even coached a single game in Provo might appear to be a reach, but … no, it isn’t. The Cougars simply don’t haul in this kind of talent, on top of what Pope built, but … yeah, they are now. Handling one-and-done stars can be slippery business, and Young will have to prove he can integrate temporary top talent with solid grunts, but if he does, they have a legitimate shot at finishing in the upper echelons of the Big 12 this coming season.

They will not do that in football.

They will not sniff that in football.

Which is to say, BYU is on the verge of becoming what it was way back in the day, back in the 1950s and ‘60s, when the school, under old-time coaches like Stan Watts, was winning exclusive basketball tournaments and building a reputation as a national power.

That might be a jump to judgment, and if I’m wrong, I’m wrong. But over the next year and subsequent years, Rice-Eccles Stadium and the Marriott Center will be the hot spots for men’s sports at Utah and BYU, for local fans looking in and for national observers assigning definitions as to what these schools are.

Editor’s note • This story is available to Salt Lake Tribune subscribers only. Thank you for supporting local journalism.