Nary a cliff is left unlaunched, a kicker un-pun, or a face unshot. The chaos is routed only by the dipping sun and the fact that the University of Utah s basketball team is playing for the national championship that evening. The entire state seems to want to celebrate with the dirtbags. And so it ends the following morning. The dirtbags drag themselves off the couches they ve been poaching like Cinderella the morning after the ball.
Gray skies can t cover the hopelessly tracked faces of Utah s legendary ski areas.
The pile of pizza boxes which remain from last night s victory dinner, seem less glorious without pizza in them. Utah has lost the national championship. And yet, there is a spring in the dirtbags step as they pack the Rodeo and point it home. They may be dirtbags. They may have blown most of their winnings on beer and cheap women.