It is hard to explain the Holy War to someone who didn't grow up in the Salt Lake Valley or down in Provo. You've got families who literally don't speak for a week. I've seen brothers sit on opposite sides of Rice-Eccles Stadium because one wears red and the other wears royal blue. It’s not just a game. The University of Utah BYU football game is a cultural collision that feels more like a family feud than a standard NCAA matchup.
Honestly, the "Holy War" moniker isn't just marketing fluff. It’s deep. You have the secular, state-run powerhouse against the private, religious institution owned by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. That dynamic creates a friction you don't see in the Iron Bowl or the Egg Bowl. It’s personal.
The weird, wild history of the Holy War
People argue about when this actually started. If you ask a BYU fan, they might point to one date; a Utah fan will give you another. The record books usually say 1896, but there’s this whole dispute because Utah played BYU’s predecessor, Brigham Young Academy. Utah won that one 12-0.
For decades, Utah absolutely owned the series. Then LaVell Edwards showed up in Provo in the 70s and flipped the script entirely. Suddenly, BYU wasn't just winning; they were dominant. They won a National Championship in 1984. For a long time, Utah fans had to hear about that every single day. It stayed that way until the late 90s and early 2000s when the pendulum swung back. Ron McBride and later Urban Meyer started treating the University of Utah BYU football game as the most important day on the calendar. Meyer famously didn't even want to say the name "BYU." He just called them "the team down south."
Then things got even crazier when the conferences split. Utah went to the Pac-12. BYU went independent. Everyone thought the rivalry might die or at least lose its heat. It didn't. If anything, the distance made the heart grow fonder—or more bitter. Absence didn't make them friends; it just made the rare times they played feel like a powder keg.
The Max Hall Rant and why it still matters
You cannot talk about this game without mentioning Max Hall. After the 2009 game, the BYU quarterback went on a legendary tirade. He said he hated everything about the University of Utah. He hated their fans. He said they were "classless."
Utah fans, being who they are, leaned into it. They made t-shirts. They cheered louder. It became a badge of honor. That moment perfectly encapsulates the divide. To BYU fans, Utah fans are loud, obnoxious, and disrespectful. To Utah fans, BYU fans are self-righteous and judgmental. It’s a classic "Us vs. Them" scenario that feeds the fire every single year.
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Why the move to the Big 12 changes everything
For years, the University of Utah BYU football game was a non-conference game. That felt wrong. It lacked the stakes of a divisional race. But now? Both teams are in the Big 12.
This changes the math completely. Now, this game isn't just for bragging rights at the Thanksgiving table. It’s for a spot in the Big 12 Championship. It’s for a path to the College Football Playoff. When the schedule dropped and people realized these two would be conference foes again, the ticket prices for the 2024 and 2025 matchups skyrocketed immediately.
Kyle Whittingham has been at Utah forever. He actually played at BYU. He knows both sides of the coin better than anyone alive. On the other side, Kalani Sitake is a former Utah assistant. These coaching staffs are intertwined. They recruit the same kids. They go to the same high schools in Draper, Corner Canyon, and Lone Peak.
Recruiting: The battle for the 801
The "801" is the area code for most of the Wasatch Front. Every February (and now December with the early signing period), the University of Utah BYU football game plays out on social media through the decisions of 18-year-olds.
Utah has transitioned into a "Sack Lake City" identity—physical, defensive-minded, NFL factory. BYU has often relied on high-powered offenses and a global reach due to the LDS church. But recently, BYU has gotten grittier. They are trying to beat Utah at their own game: winning in the trenches.
- The Trenches: Utah usually wins here. Their defensive line is consistently elite.
- The Atmosphere: Rice-Eccles is louder, but LaVell Edwards Stadium is more imposing due to the sheer verticality of the stands.
- The Quarterbacks: This is where games are won. Think back to 2024. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Surprising facts about the rivalry
Did you know there was a 10-game winning streak for Utah that lasted nearly a decade? From 2010 to 2019, BYU simply could not find a way to win. They lost in heartbreaking fashion—blocked field goals, fumbles in the red zone, pick-sixes on the first play. It was a psychological hex.
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When BYU finally broke the streak in 2021 in Provo, fans stormed the field before the game was even over. It was pure catharsis. I saw grown men crying in the stands because they hadn't seen a win over "the Utes" since they were in middle school.
Another weird detail? The "Beehive Boot." It’s the trophy for the best team in the state of Utah. Even though the University of Utah BYU football game is the headliner, Utah State is often in the mix too. But for the fans, the Boot only matters if it means beating the other school in this specific rivalry.
How to survive game day in Salt Lake or Provo
If you’re going to the University of Utah BYU football game, you need a plan.
Parking at Rice-Eccles is a nightmare. Use the TRAX light rail. It’s free with your game ticket, and you’ll avoid the gridlock on 400 South. Plus, the energy on the train is electric—fans from both sides chirping at each other for 30 minutes.
In Provo, it’s all about the tailgating at "Cougar Canyon." It’s a bit more family-friendly, but don't let the lack of alcohol fool you. These people are intense. They will scream until they lose their voices.
- Wear your colors, but be prepared for some "polite" heckling.
- Get there at least two hours early. The pre-game flyovers and team entrances are some of the best in the country.
- Hydrate. Salt Lake is at 4,200 feet, and Provo is even higher. The altitude is real, and if you're yelling for three hours, you'll feel it.
The psychological toll of the Holy War
I’ve talked to former players who say they think about this game 365 days a year. A win in the University of Utah BYU football game can save a mediocre season. A loss can ruin a great one.
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There is a specific kind of "rivalry haze" that settles over the state the week of the game. Local sports radio (KSL, 1280 The Zone) talks about nothing else. The newspapers are filled with deep dives into third-down conversion rates and injury reports.
Basically, the game is a referendum on identity. Are you the "Rising Ute" or are you "Loyal, Strong and True"? It sounds cheesy to outsiders, but here, it’s life.
Navigating the future of the series
As both teams settle into the Big 12, the University of Utah BYU football game is going to become even more nationalized. You’ll have fans in West Virginia and Florida tuning in because it has playoff implications.
The complexity of the rivalry will only grow. With NIL (Name, Image, and Likeness) money now a major factor, the battle for local talent has become an arms race. A local booster might donate specifically to ensure a top recruit picks Utah over BYU. It’s added a whole new layer of drama to an already over-the-top situation.
Actionable steps for fans and collectors
If you want to experience this game the right way, don't just watch it on TV.
- Secure tickets early. Seriously. Don't wait until November. Single-game tickets for the Holy War are the hardest to get in the state. Check secondary markets in July.
- Visit the museums. Both schools have incredible athletic halls of fame. Utah's is in the Huntsman Center; BYU's is in the Student Athlete Building. See the history before you see the game.
- Learn the "Why". Read up on the 1984 BYU season and the 2004/2008 Utah "BCS Busters" seasons. Understanding the history of success for both programs makes the current animosity make much more sense.
- Check the weather. It’s Utah. It could be 70 degrees at kickoff and snowing by the fourth quarter. Layers are your friend.
The University of Utah BYU football game isn't going anywhere. It’s survived conference realignments, coaching changes, and a century of social shifts. It remains the beating heart of Utah sports. Whether you’re throwing up the "U" or "The Y," just know that for sixty minutes on a Saturday, there is nowhere else in the world that matters more to the people in those stands.