Hail to Old OSU

The Summer's over, as I spent the day at back-to-school district rallies, professional learning communities (PLC's), and staff meetings. It was a good Summer. Thinking back on it, my ten weeks off were a complex whirlwind. I have vague memories of Class IV whitewater rapids, Kid Cudi, climbing gyms, castles, baseball games, airplanes, fun runs, and the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745. Someday, I'll write about those things. Today, we look ahead.

The beginning of work at the end of Summer is jarring, but the effect is dulled by another beginning: the college football season. When I was a freshman at Oregon State, the proud Beaver football team became the first team in state history to win 11 games. Since that impressionable time, I've been a devout college football fan. The season officially begins tomorrow, with USC/Hawaii and Ohio State/Marshall jump-starting an impressive opening weekend. My Beavs travel to Cowboy Stadium to take on the sixth-ranked TCU Horned Frogs on Saturday. I can think of little else. I have dreams about these games, weeks before they're played. I go to practices in Corvallis, read updates on blogs, longingly stare at my fresh sheet of OSU season tickets.

There's something magical about Reser Stadium this time of year. When the leaves turn as orange as the inter-locking "OS" logo and the sun dips over the Coast Range, when the geese fly south and the first cold snap grazes Timberhill, Corvallis is ready. Time has no meaning: I am transported to my college years in a nostalgic wave as I simultaneously look forward to future OSU glory. Corvallis is transformed into an edenic sea of orange, and from the masses, mythic heroes emerge. I ponder Stephen Paea, the enormous defensive tackle, discovered in the jungles of Tonga ripping trees from their roots and smashing boulders to pieces. I consider Jacquizz Rodgers, the running back, who conquered the Texas high school touchdown record, who scores touchdowns every day before he eats breakfast. I think of his brother James, the reciever, so fast that he turns off the light switch at night before bed and is asleep before the room gets dark. I think of past champions and future stars and the merry chorus of onlookers that fill the stadium every angelic football Saturday.

If Oregon State is beatific, our in-state rivals are Dantean. It is appropriate that my humble alma mater has, as its opposite, a school that represents everything wrong and evil in college sports. The pompous blowhards at the University of Oregon, when not copying our colors (black) or sports (baseball), are loudly boasting about their rich single donor and their hideous uniforms. An Oregon Duck fan is a bandwagon jumper, a crowd-follower. They firmly believe they will win the National Championship in football every year (it's never happened). They lack humility or self-awareness. "What's with these people?" my sister-in-law asked recently, making an honest observation about the ugliness of the U of O's campus (a haphazard collection of squatty, seventies-era compounds strewn over downtown Eugene). "The athletic facilities are the only nice buildings there. Have they seen OSU?" No, they haven't. Duck fans are blinded by their own silvery clothing and sense of importance, and to reason with a loudmouth Oregon fan is to knock your head, repeatedly, against one of their concrete buildings.

We lost to these barbarians last year, and the year before. While many of the Duck players that beat us have since been suspended/dismissed for various felonies and misdemeanors, the game score still stands. The proud OSU Beavers, owners of the state's only Heisman Trophy, have been humbled. The orange in Corvallis has lost some of its fiery luster.

In a few days, though, a new season begins.

The forces of good will again take on all challengers, culminating with the hellions from Eugene. My sense is that justice will prevail in the Universe for the first time in two years. But then, all college football fans are optimistic this time of year.