TAKE FIVE: PIONEER LAS VEGAS BOWL

Brian Hilderbrand and Ron Kantowski

Monday, Dec. 24, 2007 | 6:56 a.m.

Saturday's 16th edition of the Pioneer Las Vegas Bowl brought something to Sam Boyd Stadium that largely is missing during the three months UNLV is occupying the building: an air of big-time college football.

BYU and UCLA attracted a sold-out crowd of 40,712 and battled to the final play before the Cougars escaped with a 17-16 victory. There were the requisite amount of pregame and halftime pageantry and just enough bad blood between the teams to lend spice to the game - but not enough to detract from it.

There were the raucous BYU fans who stood for most of the game, perhaps to keep the blood circulating on a chilly night, and lined up at halftime along with a Hall of Fame coach for a warming cup of hot chocolate.

For these reasons and others, this year's Las Vegas Bowl was the must-see event for local college football fans who couldn't get tickets to the UNLV-Wisconsin game back in September.

1. Trash talkin'

From virtually the first snap of the game, it was clear that emotions were running high between the players from both teams. Players could be seen jawing at each other before and after plays and there was no shortage of pushing and shoving after the whistle.

Just how bad things got depended on which side of the final score your team happened to fall.

UCLA defensive end Bruce Davis, who was credited with 2.5 sacks and was putting pressure on BYU quarterback Max Hall throughout the game, said the BYU players clearly had a chip on their shoulders after losing to UCLA 27-17 back in September.

"They were playing dirty. They were playing nasty," Davis said of the Cougars. "It was all bad blood. I had the center out there tell me he was going to end my career ... so you've got guys out there playing like that.

"They got nasty and so did we. They showed their true colors. That's not very classy to me, but they won the game so my hat's off to them."

Hall, who encountered Davis frequently during the evening, brushed off the trash talking between the two teams.

"We were kind of talking to each other, but it was all part of the game, part of the fun," he said.

Davis, a senior, said things will get even uglier when BYU hosts UCLA in Provo next September - the third meeting between the two teams in 53 weeks.

"It's going to be even nastier," he said. "And if I can, I'm going to be right there on the sideline." - B.H.

2. Old home week

Former UNLV head coach John Robinson returned to Sam Boyd Stadium on Saturday night to serve as the color analyst on the Sports USA Radio Network's broadcast of the Las Vegas Bowl.

The ever-present twinkle in Robinson's eye grew a little brighter when a visitor to the radio booth asked about his memories of his Rebels' 31-14 victory over Arkansas in Las Vegas Bowl IX in 2000.

"What I remember about that game was that we outplayed them in just about every phase of the game - and they were an impressive team," Robinson said. "It was really a dynamic game."

That game marked the Rebels' last bowl appearance, as 2000 was their last winning season. But Robinson stopped short of calling the game the high-water mark of his six-year stint at UNLV.

"We had that win back in Wisconsin," he said of the Rebels' 23-5 upset of the No. 14 Badgers in Madison in 2003. "That was a big one, too. And we beat BYU a couple of times." Robinson, 72, lives in Carlsbad, Calif., with his wife. - B.H.

3. Who needs tickets?

During the early 20th century, Notre Dame football fans who rode the South Shore Line train from Chicago and northwest Indiana to South Bend on Saturday afternoon became known as the Subway Alumni.

The Brigham Young football team has cultivated a similar following out West - we'll call it the Bicycle Alumni, for the Mormon missionaries' preferred method of travel - and the throng that accompanies the Cougars wherever they go has created a new industry up and down Russell Road.

Ticket scalpers love the Coogs.

"Who needs one?"

"Four tickets here. I've got four."

"Two on the 45. Cheaper than Kmart."

Everywhere you turned on your way into Sam Boyd Stadium there was a wiseguy with an extra ticket or two ... or 150.

Most of the pros had set up close to Boulder Highway, where they were literally fanning primo tickets to a game that had been sold out for months. One guy doing brisk business - he said to call him Tom - was holding a Floyd Mayweather Jr.-size stack of tickets.

"I got a guy," he said when I asked how he acquired his ticket brick.

Tom said everybody I saw holding mass quantities of tickets "has a guy." In fact, he had two guys of his own working Russell Road.

Among them, they had 150 tickets. At 3:30 p.m., an hour and a half before kickoff, they were selling for $10 under face value. Definitely a buyer's market.

Closer to the stadium, Cougar fans were trying to make a buck, too. "Hey mister," a kid sporting a metallic blue BYU wig called. "Need four tickets?"

"No," I said, smiling back.

"Wanna sell four tickets?"

Turns out the kid had a guy, too. His old man was getting cold and wanted to go inside. - R.K.

4. Upscale end zone

When the Las Vegas Bowl approached UNLV about going halves on auxiliary end zone bleachers that probably would have resulted in setting another stadium attendance record, only to be rebuffed like a used bowling ball, it probably didn't know the UNLV athletic administration was doing it a favor.

The snub resulted in the creation of La-Z-Boy Comfort Zone Club at the Field, a portable upscale hospitality area remindful of the pit lane suites at one of those grand prix auto races. It really added to the ambience of the Las Vegas Bowl.

This was where big shots dined on the finest meats and cheeses and trays of hors d'oeuvres featuring carrot and celery sticks arranged in neat circles, like spokes on a wheel. Small shots were even allowed to join them - for a fee, of course. It was $250 to wine and dine and to sit in one the rows of seats that faced the field; $150 if you just wanted to stand and schmooze.

An hour before kickoff, most of the La-Z-Boys already were in Roman Empire mode - full decline.

"All I need is for somebody to mount one of these plasmas on the ceiling," said a supine fellow cradling a cocktail. Ray Oakley said he was from Long Beach, Calif., by way of Halifax, Nova Scotia, which means, his stocking cap notwithstanding, he wasn't nearly as cold as the rest of us.

I asked Oakley if he was an heir to the sunglass fortune, but he said no, that he was just a small shot who knew a big shot. His pal was with Pioneer and was responsible for setting up those plasma televisions he wanted to reposition.

Oakley's PureVision wasn't totally gone. But I could tell by the tall Red Bull and Vegas Vodka in his hand that it might not last until halftime. - R.K.

5. Swiss Miss 7, Budweiser 0

In what certainly will go down as the greatest upset in Sam Boyd Stadium history, the lines for hot chocolate were much longer than the lines for beer at halftime. Teetotaling BYU fans combined with frosty temperatures in the 30s turned the concourse into a Swiss chalet.

BYU and UCLA fans stood elbow to elbow in a long queue that formed at a hot chocolate kiosk. Johanna Montiero, who was working the booth, said the only difference was that Bruins fans asked for a shot of Kahlua or Jack Daniels in theirs.

A little farther down the concourse, a guy named Danny, thinking Wisconsin or Hawaii was playing UNLV, was drawing ice cold Budweiser and Bud Light from a keg and setting the plastic cups on a table where they sat unclaimed.

Still, he said business was brisker than he had anticipated and that 15 percent of his customers actually were BYU fans. Forget what I just said about the biggest upset in stadium history.

I spent the rest of halftime looking for a needle in a haystack - a BYU fan sipping suds. Didn't happen. But I did see a familiar face standing in the concession line. He was wearing a dark-blue Gore-Tex jacket with the BYU logo on it, dark slacks, loafers. No hat. It was LaVell Edwards, the legendary coach who led the Cougars to the 1984 national title, who I've always thought highly of.

Seeing him standing in line for a soft pretzel like everybody else, I now think even more highly of him.

Just for grins, I waited around until the molasseslike crew behind the window filled his order.

Four hot chocolates. One hot dog. No soft pretzel. - R.K.

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