I'm trying. I really am.
I have nothing but respect and admiration for Chris Petersen and what he did and meant for Boise State. Not just football, but the entire university and town.
But I hope he fails miserably, faster than one of those stones the aliens used to build the Egyptian pyramids sinking to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea.
I can't help it.
I try to tell myself not to feel that way. My mind tells me to knock it off, to wish Petersen the best in his new endeavors at Washington. But my heart sends my brain packing faster than a weekend trip to see the in-laws gone bad.
And my disdain for Petersen is actually not directed toward him at all. It's the narrative that has been created around him that I can't stand.
Every single media member/institution outside of Boise says the Broncos are on a downward trend because Petersen WAS Boise State football. He built the program, sculpted it, molded it and built it to the top, then bailed when it had reached its peak. There is nothing left, they say.
It's not Petersen's fault, really. He did what was best for him and his family when he chose to dawn the Huskie purple. But that narrative must die. Burn its remains and salt the earth from which it was born. And in order for that thought to be silenced for good, he must fail miserably.
Petersen's demise solidifies Boise State as a self-sustaining, successful football program. It means he didn't make Boise State, but rather Boise State helped him. It was a symbiotic relationship.
Houston Nutt set the bar for ex-Boise State coaches. Dirk Koetter and Dan Hawkins followed suit.
Why should Petersen be any different? Fans have dubbed it the Curse of Pokey Allen, a fitting and so far undefeated name.
The Broncos will continue to win games, it always have. That partially discredits the "Petersen made Boise State" narrative. The Huskies flaming out worse than the Hindenburg blimp seals its fate.
History is bound to repeat itself.
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