The mud room inside Utah’s football complex might not seem like the most ideal place for introspection. The muffled noise blasting in the weight room beyond the double-doors eventually becomes more clear — it’s whatever playlist is on the sound system for motivation — as players finish lifting for the day. It’s loud in the mud room, and conversations that had previously started continue, as it gets louder and louder. After pushing himself, one player nearly vomits in the trash can nearby.
This is also where one of Utah’s most-prolific, most-intimidating, most-everything athlete sits on a wood bench and looks back, beyond the time before he became No.