Jim Boylen had a piece of buttered toast rolling around in his mouth as he speed-talked over breakfast, detailing from his point of view some of the particulars regarding a crisis his Utah basketball team was facing. A crisis that started with losing and ended in a dark state of permanent defeat.
He said everything at that table with the checkered tablecloth that people had come to expect from Boylen back in the day — he was emotional, passionate, angry, disgusted, cartoonish, optimistic about the change in his players that was coming, that was always coming, right around the corner.