Gambling is illegal in the state of Utah. In fact, it’s one of only six US states to not have a state run lottery. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints officially condemns gambling, going so far as to say in the General Handbook that “The Church is against all gambling of any kind, including lotteries.” President Dallin H. Oaks said that “There can be no question that gambling dulls the spiritual sensitivities of those who participate in it…Whenever we as Latter-day Saints engage in any kind of conduct that is inconsistent with the companionship of the Spirit of the Lord, we pay an enormous price. Left without the sustaining influence of that Spirit, we are vulnerable to temptation, prone to criticize, and subject to being tossed to and fro and buffeted by the forces of the world and the works of the evil one…What I have said about gambling should be understood to include lotteries.”
Yet President Oaks’s words were largely ignored this week as Brigham Young University announced its own sponsored lottery. The ROC, or Roar of Cougars, is the official BYU student section. In years past, students could buy a pass, and then attend games with their friends or spouse. With BYU’s arrival in the Big 12, “we anticipated a price change,” said Talia McNally, a BYU student. “Nothing could have prepared us for this.”
Students now will pay $200, a 33% price increase from previous years. But rather than lining up on game day, ROC pass holders will now have to enter a lottery for the chance to receive tickets to the game. Not only that, but there is no guarantee that students will be able to attend with their friends or with their spouse. Those ROC pass holders who do receive tickets to the game (and mind you, not all will) will be randomly assigned to an entry group, which tells them what time they can enter the game. But if you’re in group three and your friends are in groups fifteen and twenty-two – well, you’ll either watch the game alone or from the nosebleeds.
“GUYS STOP BEING MEAN EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE BETTER THAN LAST YEAR,” said the official BYU ROC Instagram, which is run by people who are guaranteed tickets and front row seats to the games. Rather than responding to the hundreds of angry students in their DMs and Instagram comments, these chosen few continued to parrot their official statement – “your chances have not changed.” Of course, their chances have not changed – they pick their own seats well in advance.
“Gambling is a sin,” said Mary Shirk, a BYU student and former ROC pass holder. “So why is the church condemning gambling but then asking me to buy a $200 lottery ticket?”
“The ROC is just trying to make the experience better for all of us,” said Brayden Smith, who is definitely not a ROC Board member or BYU tickets employee. “They want it to be fair, so everyone has a chance.”
Rumors began to spread across social media of a peaceful protest happening at the SAB on August 1. The BYU ROC responded as the establishment often does – by reassuring the BYU community that “we hear you” and that they are listening and learning, while showing no signs of doing so. Meanwhile, a petition on Change.org reached 1,500 signatures in just three hours, and hundreds of people flooded the comments on Instagram. Again, BYU ROC declined to address concerns, but stuck to blanket statements that “everything will be the same.”
“$200 is a full work week on campus,” said Hannah Andrewson. “If they’re going to make $200 an overrated lottery ticket, surely they’re raising the campus minimum wage?” No, Hannah, they are not. They are encouraging us to buy church-sanctioned lottery tickets, but yet cannot afford to pay students a living wage.
The protests at the SAB and online soon became something out of Les Miserables – protesting students who have been largely abandoned by the community they trust, and an unforgiving, unyielding establishment that is unwilling to budge. “If we can’t camp out for games anymore,” said Chad Mitchell, a finance major, “then we might as well camp out here until they give us what we want.”
“I just want to go home,” said a BYU Athletics employee who requested to remain anonymous. “I picked up this shift from a coworker, and now I know why he dropped it. I’m going to be stuck at the SAB for days.”
“I sent my children to BYU for the good church culture,” said Cheryl Davis, a mom of 11 from Provo, Utah. “And now I learn that the school I love is supporting gambling? What’s next, BYU Las Vegas?” Cheryl is not alone in her disappointment. Gambling is defined as wagering something of value (in this case, the $200 students spend on their ROC pass) on a random event (the lottery for tickets) with the intent of winning something else of value (the opportunity to go to the game), where instances of strategy are discounted (unless of course, you count the strategy of being on the ROC board so you can always get good seats). As far as supporting the “teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ in your private and public behavior,” BYU’s new stance on gambling sets an interesting precedent.
The ROC’s Instagram hyped up “something big” coming on August 1 for weeks, only to drop a series of disappointments: the news about the tickets, an underwhelming new logo, and an “analysis” of the new logo that was filled with cliches, typos, and general poor quality. The analysis of the new logo has since been taken down after students pointed out that “Squaw Peak” and “acronym” had been misspelled as “sqaw Peak” and “acroym.”
“We haven’t lost a game yet, but we’ve already lost our whole student section,” said Clark Jones, a dejected student. “I was so excited about us going to the Big 12, but I didn’t realize they wanted to go to the Big 12 without the students.”
This doesn’t begin to cover the issues with the ROC pass this year – no more guest passes, spouse passes not being linked to guarantee spouses can attend together, the drastically increased price. BYU students and football fans will be camped out for the foreseeable future to protest the decision. “It can’t possibly get any worse than this,” said Andrea Thompson, a student and Cougarette. “Maybe I’ll just transfer to UVU. At least they like their students.”
As Monday, August 1 came to a close, students across BYU prepared for their protests. It’s anticipated that by Wednesday morning, student-built barricades will outnumber those built by BYU construction. Those in administration, and worse, the special few on the ROC board, must be frightened as a campus prepares for civil war. But, as one student commented, it’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a BYU student to get seats at a football game.