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Kyle Whittingham's got a Blank Space, baby

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Utah's offensive coordinator situation, put to song.

My wife and I purchased Taylor Swift's latest album 1989 the night of its release. (Pro Tip: Always buy at Target for the exclusive tracks. There's always at least one radio single-worthy effort.)

I've always enjoyed some good pop music (throw on stuff from 1998 and you'll see me sport the white man's overbite), my wife likes Taylor Swift, and I can appreciate her self-made record label and that she writes her own lyrics. Most pop is written by someone other than the artist.

I've long felt, especially after "I Knew You Were Trouble," that Swift should go all-in on pop. Ditch the folksy, country-pop angle and just go for it. The concept album 1989 did just that, and it's phenomenal. After just a couple listens to the album, I was sold on the song "Blank Space" long before its single release and music video.

Anyway, you didn't come here looking for my personal music reviews. So recently, I heard this very track on the radio and it hit me like revelation from on high a ton of bricks: this song is about Utah Football. I try not to spend too much time talking about the rival, but with a new offensive coordinator each season for about eight seasons running, the situation "on the hill" with that one position has become laughable, even to incredulous Utah fans who don't know what else there is left to do except laugh. So I couldn't resist.

So let's laugh together, especially now before whichever offensive coordinator you end up with posts another W on us.

* * *

Sitting at a table in a diner, Kyle Whittingham looks up to see June Jones joining him.

Good to see you
How've you been?
I could show you some horrible things
Throws in dirt, dropped balls
Saw you there and I thought
OMG, look at those plays
You look like my next coaching ace
Our offense is a game, wanna play?

Pac 12 money, facilities
C'mon, read me like a magazine
Ain't it funny rumors fly
And I know you heard about our AD
So hey, let's be friends
I'm dying to see how this one ends
Grab your playbook and my hand
I can make the good coaches bad for a sea-son

[Chorus]
So it's gonna be forever
Or it's gonna go down in flames
You can tell me when it's over
If the paycheck was worth the pain
Got a long list of ex-coordinators
They'll tell you I'm insane
But you know I love my players
And you love the game

QB will be young and reckless
He'll throw it way too far
You could leave us breathless
Or with a nasty scar
Got a long list of ex-coordinators
They'll tell you I'm insane
But I got a blank space baby
And I'll write your name

Brent Pease is sitting at a bar, and a weary Kyle Whittingham joins him.

Crimson threads, BCS trophies
I could show you incredible things
Booker came back, Hackett's leg
You're the king, make A-Rod your queen
Beat Harbaugh is what we want
Fans will love you for a month
Just wait, the worst is yet to come

Screaming, crying, offense stinks
You can make all the tables turn
Rose Bowl filled with Utes
Keep defenses guessing like
"OMG, who is he?"
Let's get drunk on victory
But they'll come back each time you lead
Cause bro, we're a nightmare in an Under-Armour daydream

[Chorus]
So it's gonna be forever
Or it's gonna go down in flames
You can tell me when it's over
If the paycheck was worth the pain
Got a long list of ex-coordinators
They'll tell you I'm insane
But you know I love my players
And you love the game

QB will be young and reckless
He'll throw it way too far
You could leave us breathless
Or with a nasty scar
Got a long list of ex-coordinators
They'll tell you I'm insane
But I got a blank space baby
And I'll write your name