Chip Kelly continues to teach as he exits

 

When I was in high school, I asked a girl out to prom with an Easter Egg hunt in her backyard. I had coordinated with her parents beforehand, climbed their fence and hid the eggs filled with various goodies while she was gone. When she got back with her family, I was there and helped her with a nice game of “hot or cold” as she searched for her prizes. The last egg being hidden in my jacket pocket and had a note that read, “Will you go to prom with me?” She smiled, said yes and gave me an enthusiastic hug. It was awesome and one of those stories you think back on and give yourself high fives for; to be fair, she was my girlfriend at the time, so it was a low-risk proposition, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still a nervous high school boy waiting for a beautiful girl to either accept or reject him.

In that moment, I was accepted and it was the greatest feeling in the entire world!

Unfortunately for me we broke up a few weeks before the prom, and since she was wonderful, lovely, and very well known, she found a date in no time even with such short notice. I, on the other hand, contemplated not going as much out of protest as out of sorrow until my best friend, who went to a different school, had the idea I could take his current girlfriend. To this I felt instantly medieval as if he were declaring a perverse Prima Nocta, but I eventually said it sounded great and had an awesome time.

The weirdest part though? Even as I was being dumped and my memory of one of my greatest romantic moments was shattered (I’ve done some things I’m proud of), I never held a grudge against my girlfriend because she had left me in a better spot emotionally than I was before we started dating. Sure I was upset at the dude I felt probably had been working her for weeks in an effort to usurp me, but I never held anything against her for deciding to do what made her happiest; which wasn’t normally my M-O, by the way. Typically I cut ex’s completely out of my life in order to truly reestablish who I am and why things went south; I’ve since calmed that down a bit, and I recently realized it’s all because of her. Sure, I’ve still had relationships where the best reaction is to cut the girl completely out, but that’s always because by the end I didn’t like the person I was with. Yet, while we were together and when we broke up, while I was in some pain, she taught me how to be happy for someone I care about and wish happiness onto them as well.

So as much as I want to be mad at Chip Kelly for running to coach in the NFL for the Philadelphia Eagles quicker than De’Anthony Thomas runs back a kickoff for a touchdown, I can’t. He left the University of Oregon in a better place than when he got it, and was always good to us. Yes, you could assume he “cheated” on us since he was capable of taking Philadelphia to the dance so soon after he notified the universiity, but no saliva was exchanged while we were together, so he technically didn’t do anything wrong. If anything this has only deepened my resentment towards the Eagles—which is almost exactly the same as my high school girlfriend because while I was happy she was happy, I hoped to god she eventually dumped that tiny-foot piece of jock that macho’d his way through the halls.

In hindsight, Oregon’s big mistake was never making an official announcement that Chip had decided to come back to coach the Ducks or declare the details of his presumed contract after talks with NFL teams had stopped a few weeks ago. We thought we were in a relationship, but in all honesty, we weren’t.

We were in that gross purgatory of having stayed up too late trying to convince one another we were right for each other. You still care about the other person, and it could eventually work itself out, but most likely it’s been over for a few weeks at that point.

Chip did what was best for him instead of sticking around to the detriment of his own health. Everyone needs to sympathize with that because as much as you may care for someone, at a certain point it can’t be fixed and people need to move on in order to keep the memory of what was great intact. Not to mention the ones that stick around tend to be the crazies that cling and plead to the idea of you and knock on your door at 2am, whimpering outside.

For four years Coach Kelly left us eggs to be found all over our yard—four BCS bowl games, two straight BCS bowl wins, a national championship appearance, and four straight Civil War victories over in-state rival Oregon State Beavers—and we were all too happy to play an epic game of “hot or cold.”

His influence on the Ducks football program is everlasting and should never be thought of in any other way. He brought with him innovation and shared with us an attitude worth adopting: Win the day. Before that, Oregon fans would almost purely tune in to see which uniforms we were going to wear as we lost another close game. We were a downtrodden fan base looking for a ray of sunshine to peak through gray Autzen days; that is, until he gave us a brightness on the field that was so flashy we couldn’t help but embrace it. Kelly’s teams reigned supreme as they pulverized the competition for four straight years, and if it weren’t for unlucky breaks at inopportune times, we would’ve been talking about the championships he had delivered as well.

That’s maybe the only part that’s hard to get past—it seems unfinished. A national championship has eluded the Oregon Ducks for two seasons now by mere feet and inches, and next year felt different. It felt possible. But, like any relationship, those are the ones that hurt the most: the ones where there’s still life and a timeline but are cut short due to circumstance.

So as I thanked my ex for teaching me how to be happy for someone I once shared feelings with, I thank Chip Kelly for continuing that lesson.

Besides, there’s no way anyone can be mad about Chip leaving. He left the program better than he found it, gave us memories and life lessons, and taught an entire fan base to believe in themselves and their team. In the end, he did what he’s made a living doing at Oregon and will continue to do in the NFL—he surveyed the field, read the options available, and made a huge play.

Premature quackulation

(http://espn.go.com/college-football)

 

It’s always uneasy, sensitive even, the first time after a while. It feels familiar but at the same time altogether foreign. Do you stand here, go there, wait for them to initiate or go all out to prove everything’s ok? It’s tempting to go quick, because that’s what you know, but it also makes sense to ease into it and become familiar once again. Whatever approach you take, it has to be successful, and, ideally, enjoyable for everyone involved. There’s a lot to take in; and this all has to be done in real time without any promise of a break or practice.

Thursday the Oregon Ducks take the field again for the first time in over a month. There is the chance that with the month off Oregon’s performance will be affected. But honestly, whose performance isn’t if you’re not active for a month?

The Ducks, with a nationally revered offense known for its quick strikes and devastating consistency runs at such a pace that regular repetition is necessary in order to be executed properly. But with all this time off, it’s uncertain if they’ll come out needing a while to warm up and have an ultimately lackluster repeat of the National Championship loss to Auburn in 2011 with everyone telling them it’s ok, it happens. (But secretly wishing it had been better.) Or if they come out soaring like they did in last year’s Rose Bowl against Wisconsin.

During the Chip Kelly regime the Oregon Ducks offense has run on pace, timing and persistence. Feeling out their opponent, reading their body language and making decisions on how to attack based on what options become available to them. You’re tired? Let’s go long. On your heels, attack the ground. When done correctly, they work all angles—pushing the ball, gliding atop the turf, over and over. Always utilize the edges… until the middle is wide open. It’s a difficult rhythm to establish, sure, but once it’s done correctly everyone involved agrees it’s magnificent to watch and be a part of. Often times the result is scoring in bunches.

However, taking time off and not remembering the pace of play or how to react—when to slow down, or how to speed up without becoming careless and overzealous—can be detrimental to the quality of play.

While it’s exciting to get to see the chrome and white on the field again, complete with decaled wings, there’s a nervousness that comes from watching the bowl games of this season’s past: sloppy play and rough handles, at least at first, are something the Ducks can’t afford as they try and establish a rhythm against an equally potent Kansas State Wildcats. This is why those early season games are so important for the Ducks as they try and establish themselves for what they will eventually become known to do better than almost any team in the country—score.

But as suggested above, scoring can be hard when you haven’t for a while. You forget what it feels like. And if it doesn’t feel familiar, then you have a tendency t get inside your own head and psych yourself out of what you know to be true, which is never a good thing. If it becomes mechanical, no one ever enjoys that. Least of which those you’re trying to entertain. You can’t force rhythm. You can force tempo, though; but you can also overplay your hand if you try too hard to force something to be as it once was. You can have a style, but let each time be its own.

Add to the inevitable pressure to perform the rumors this could be Chip Kelly’s last game, and that’s the type of strain that could easily lead to Oregon forcing the issue.

Yet, with losses coming at a less frequent rate than ever in Duck Country, there’s little reason to believe this team wont be ready. They’ve already been on this stage, so the questions of whether they can take it all in aren’t relevant.

There’s opportunity to be apprehensive, but instead Duck fans should prepare themselves for Thursday in gameday attire and be ready to receive a performance that’s sure to inspire. Don’t pressure the Ducks to be on-point right away, but also be ready to praise the little things they do well—giving them confidence in themselves can only help their overall performance, as well as ease any anxiety you may have going in.

Of course I could be wrong about all of this because sometimes Oregon’s at their best when they score quickly. In fact, they’re a team that routinely finishes drives in less than a minute through an array of option reads and exhilarating tenacity.

And that’s always seemed just as satisfying.

Civil words of gratitude

(www.addictedtoquack.com)

 

Let’s get something straight: all groups of fans behave like unadulterated, sniveling nincompoops galloping around like a prisoner granted a one-week pardon from a life sentence, especially after a rival game with actual ramifications. So stop pretending yours is better than another.

It’s in the blood of every fan base, as a collective whole. Does this mean that every fan is like this? Of course not. Don’t worry, you can continue to claim your own level of decency over another group so you at least feel good about something. I, for one, am a great fan that promotes a level of camaraderie I’m quite proud of—and yes, reading sentence makes me want to punch me. Odds are, though, if you’re the exception, everyone else affiliated with your team is the rule. Just shut up and accept that certain people simply ooze idiocy, and they may also root for the same team you do. It’s like having a racist grandfather: there’s not really much you can do about it besides explain to him when he’s wrong and really can’t say things… however, you’re probably never going to change his views. Just like you’re never going to weed out the loud-mouthed assembly line of douche bags that leave the warehouse wearing your team’s emblem on their chest.

So Beaver fans, when you get back from your trip atop Mount Pious, (a destination everyone goes after a tough loss, mind you), we can talk about your team’s six turnovers that led to your eventual demise and not how a handful of Duck fans were quintessentially rude fratholes.

As for Duck fans—stop flapping your mouths. You’re making everyone else look bad.

And a week after actually looking bad on the field, let’s instead admire how nice it was to see some of the explosiveness back in Oregon’s offense, even if it wasn’t nearly as gangbusters as the previous weeks. (I had a bet with myself to use the word gangbusters. I won.) And while it was worrisome to watch the overall power of the offense slow down to the degree it seemed to in the first half, the peppering of points and yards in the second was reassuring to say the least. That’s enough, though. No need to augment that performance with conceited jabbering. Let the play speak for itself.

About three weeks ago, coworkers and I were talking about the differences between Stanford and Oregon State, and we came to the conclusion they are two very similar teams, but Stanford is much better at being that team. We proved to be right, as Oregon was able to get back to the outside corners this week, staying a step ahead of the Beavers; as opposed to last week where they were relegated to running into large blockades of Cardinal players.

Regardless, and while that loss still gnaws in the “What Could Have Been” column, and even though the national title game, which was obviously within our grasp, is gone, this stretch Oregon has been on, including this season we just witnessed, is something that should be celebrated. It’s what we should be talking about.

We’re a damn good football team and program that has helped, along with USC and Stanford, to bring west coast football into the national discussion; it’s no longer just a cute thing that’s on later in the day. It’s desired, it’s athletic, it’s innovative. People still want to see Alabama versus Oregon because of two strong presumptions: one, the SEC has the best football teams in the country, and two, Oregon is the team that would best counter their impressive power-game with a powerful game of their own.

I don’t mean to take anything away from Notre Dame—as I tweeted, my apostrophe was very proud on Saturday night. But it would be more fun to watch the very best of two opposing styles go head-to-head and see which would come out on top.

This season, highlighted by another Civil War victory, was also great because it feels like an unspoken swan song for coach Chip.

John Canzano wrote an article Friday night articulating my thoughts; the article also exemplifies why I want to see Oregon versus Alabama: I’m getting in line as yet another Oregon fan expecting that head coach Chip Kelly is gone after this season and onward to the NFL where he belongs. And that’s why one more chance to beat the best would be ideal… an 11-1 record, top 5 ranking, and another BCS Bowl game is a pretty good way to live, too.

As fans of Oregon football, we need to be ok and encouraging in his departure. Just like we need to be ok and encouraging of this year’s team and what they were able to accomplish so far. Winning is finally something we expect from the program, not merely hope for. We think in terms of championships, not just of wins.

So after beating the Beavers for the fifth year in a row, and doing it in typical Oregon Ducks fashion—large plays, quick runs, creating and executing off turnovers—I’m reflective and proud of a team that has shown themselves to be a proven model of class and expectations on the field.

… Even if some of their fans, like most of their opponents, remain one step behind.

Sports Therapy

(http://sebreg.deviantart.com/art/Duck-Therapy-201672229)

 

(Appropriately, my last post was about “hope”; and Oregon’s 17-14 loss on Saturday has done well to test those thoughts because I was dangerously close to having faith in Oregon as opposed to controlling my hope they’d do well.)

I’ve started this post at least five different times. Unaware of the tone I wanted to indicate, the approach that would best suit, or what actually, if anything, I had to say. Understand, too, that the sentiment of all of those factors has changed drastically and constantly as well… and probably will continue to as I write.

My reaction to the Oregon Ducks overtime loss to Stanford in Autzen Stadium is void of much analysis and is instead littered with “Should-Of”s and “What-The-Fuck-Happened?”s. As a result, I’ve decided to talk to the best only Sports Therapist I know: me.

(This was difficult to simulate less because I’m bad at arguing with myself, and more because I don’t have a couch, only a loveseat, so I was cramped throughout the experience.)

So tell me, how are you dealing with the recent loss you’ve experienced?

Mainly, I’m dumbfounded, awestruck. Yet, at the same time, I’m completely numb to anything remotely parading as feeling. It’s like I’m a suburban housewife in a Sam Mendes movie.

I try and remain rational when it comes to my sports teams—sometimes to a detriment—because I think they are a symbol of my life and relationships at large, and it’s silly and wrong to invest that much of yourself purely based on the performance of someone else considering they shouldn’t be the main charge for you happiness.

 

Then why does it seem like this loss hurts more than the time your mother threw away all of your childhood VHS tapes without consulting you?

Because at the beginning of the season, I had my expectations for the Ducks completely in check: USC finally had their sanctions lifted, so they should be a powerhouse again; Oregon had a freshman quarterback; and LaMichael James and Darren Thomas were each gone. There was no reason to expect anything but a strong showing, but still something of a rebuilding year.

 

(Nodding…)

Then something happened. This team had a confidence and precision that was coming together and swayed me to start thinking bigger and outside of myself. This could be our year. My year. I’ve never experienced a championship at any level, and this could be it. However, I’m not a fan of teams that experience success, so I don’t know how to appropriate it; nor do I know how to evaluate failure as a result. I know how to evaluate failure as a normal outcome, but when I allow myself to get too invested, I become bewildered as I grasp for meaning and reason.

… Yes, I do over-think things. Often. Why would you say that?…

  

There’s always next year.

Yes, there is always next year, but this year would have been great to experience too.

 

That’s true, but you said yourself you try and maintain rationality. So this loss shouldn’t mean much more than the last win.

Yeah, but this pattern of thought in sports, as in life, is enough to drive you crazy and cause instantaneous remorse the likes of which only a spurned single aimlessly wandering the Hallmark aisles is accustomed to. (And with the holidays right around the corner.) That’s why I’m trying my best to look past the devastation and look at the bright side instead.

 

Good. But…

But here’s the thing: the bright side is becoming the losing side, and I’m tired of dealing with the losing side. I hate being complacent with my team’s losing the same way I hate that my coworkers allow themselves to be taken advantage of with a “woe-is-me” attitude; the same way I get irritated when people I love blow off conflict as a means of resolution; and absolutely the same way I get pissed at myself when I take the lumps of my situation not differentiating between “obstacles worth learning from” and “obstacles worth fighting for.”

 

Break through! It sounds like the real problem is you’re projecting your own issues onto everything else around you, no?

Yeah, probably. Does that mean I can start collecting Super PAC money soon?

 

This would be a perfect time for a Network reference. Sorry this encounter isn’t happening near a window.

S’ok. Besides, I’m not “mad as hell,” just remarkably punchy.

 

Well, bright side or not, Oregon’s season will likely end with an appearance and opportunity for back-to-back Rose Bowl titles. Isn’t that good enough?

You know, before they were perennially involved in the national championship picture—if this were ten years ago—that would be great. But that’s not the case anymore. They shouldn’t be pleased with that outcome. And neither should their fans. They’re better than that.

I’ve already vacillated from my opening stance because, while (I swear) I’m maintaining perspective that it’s just a game, I no longer want to settle. I’ll remain subdued in loss keeping a sort of perspective (I’m not looking for a car to flip over, or an Arby’s to rob), but I’m not going to gulp down the cocktail of frustration and ache anymore, either.

 

This sounds like your diatribe is about to stay outside the realm of sports.

No, Stanford deserved to win. They played better the entire game. I have enough perspective to admit that. And that’s how to correctly balance irritation with acceptance: know what you did that didn’t work, acknowledge you can do better, then expect better. I have no doubt that Oregon—and their fans—expects much better next weekend versus Oregon State.

 

Why do you think that?

Because we deserve it.

 

Yes you do.

Hope is more than a wing and a prayer for Oregon

Hope is a strong motivating factor. People ascribe to hope to know they are making the right decisions. No one knows what those decisions truly are, granted, but with a little bit of hope and some clear belief in yourself, you’re directly on your way to making your dreams become a reality. Hope is something driven people use to get where they’re going.

Of the two components that you rely on and (well) hope for, only one of those is within your control: you hope that you don’t screw up the opportunities that are presented to you. That one’s yours. And secondly, you hope that by not screwing up and doing your very best someone else acknowledges that and rewards you for it.

(Hope is different than faith, mind you, because faith is something that is grabbed at and clutched blindly without any basis in reality; whereas hope is something that you have control over and create along the way. To have blind faith, while it works for some, is unsubstantiated. Hope is the Über-successful cousin of faith… like Matt Damon is to Ben Affleck.)

The Oregon Ducks have done everything they need so far this season to give themselves a fighting chance at a national title game, and to this point, they’ve been rewarded by others. Which, remember, is the part out of their control.

Oregon, after a sluggish first half, beat up on a lesser California Golden Bears team this past Saturday, and the BCS computers have rewarded the Ducks with a #2 ranking. (No one’s arguing that #1 Alabama losing didn’t help.) Which, of course, means that if the game were today, Oregon would be playing for the national championship.

Now comes the hard part—they have to live up to their own expectations and don’t screw up.

Oregon has to continue to execute with precision what they’re doing well. They need to continue to play to win as opposed to playing simply not to lose. Don’t get caught up in perception. Don’t allow what’s in their grasp to get away. They need to trust that they have what it takes to follow through in the end. They need to use the hope of the season as a guiding force towards their ultimate achievement. And with two formidable opponents left, Stanford and Oregon State, both ranked teams on the road, by the way, the Ducks can’t afford to give up hope. They can’t afford to focus on what could go wrong; rather, they need to focus on what’s been successful so far so they’re ready when the time is right to capture what they’ve always hoped for all along.

Some may dispute that hope has as much to do with the effects of an outcome as it does, but it seems completely clear to me that in a world where there is no certainty, hope is the only thing you can maintain. It may waiver, yes, but as long as it’s grounded in the belief that you, yourself are doing the right thing, then you can’t go wrong.

And if the Ducks continue to forge ahead believing in themselves, then neither can they.

(Image from http://blog.stack.com)

Little brOSU

I hate using the “little brother” label as a reaction to sports fans because it implies that one fan base is lesser than another; that’s not true, and, in actuality, often it’s that an organization is worse at their job or one team has worse luck that creates the obstacles more than one group of fans is better than another. Obviously people in charge can be inept, but very seldom does that translate to the fans—even if listening to them espouse how great their team is gets annoying. I know this because, as a fan of a team, I know I can sound insufferable too.

(Plus, I have a little brother, and I know the amount of torturous, innocuous shit that he put me through is never the same as a team and its fans thinking their good. Never has a Lakers fan tried to embarrass me in front of a girl purely because they knew they could.)

This isn’t to say  the label isn’t ever true, but it definitely isn’t something that I like to throw around in fear that it loses its meaning. Sometimes, though, it fits and a fan of a rival team pouts for attention worse than your sibling asking for another Christmas gift.

My mind focused on this because just the other day a coworker irritated me as he hijacked a conversation one side of the table was having, immediately making it about him and his plight.

He is an Oregon State Beaver fan who happened to be cornered on one side of the lunch table by Oregon Duck fans as we dissected the plays, announcing and nuance of last week’s victory over USC. (Like any fan would.) I’ll admit right away that if I was in his spot, I would have grabbed for the nearest object—be it sharp or blunt—and started carving hieroglyphics into my forearm rather than deal with Beaver fans recount their most recent win since there’s little worse than listening to delusional fans (redundant) agree to how great their team is. Especially if it’s your team’s rival, so I get his initial demeanor; however, from there as we continued dissecting the rest of Oregon’s schedule—Cal, Stanford, and Oregon State, all of which, we agreed, were teams that equally excited us as winnable games and scared us to our nervous waddling cores, never assuming victory—his body language became more and more uncomfortable in very flamboyant ways.

When we asked him what he was smirking about, he pounced at the opportunity to point out that he felt we were “typical Oregon fans” already presuming that we were on our way to the national title game, as well as an arrogant breed of know-it-alls all too comfortable with Uncle Phil’s Nike money. (Love that fallback line.)

(I didn’t have the heart to tell him that because we’d been there recently, won the Rose Bowl last year, and are currently a top 4 team in the nation, that we are afforded the luxury of sounding like that…)

Again though, in actuality, nothing was further from the truth—we were remarking how much we weren’t confident in the road to a hopeful national title game, especially when, we highlighted, this week’s game is at California. To this he scoffed as if we had just ranked Legally Blonde as one of our Desert Island Movies and then accused us of posturing even when the honesty in our voice reached a level only your favorite pet of all time could hear. We told him our legitimate worry had to do with the fact that something funky always seems to happen when the Ducks play at Cal. However, his mind was already made up and this confession only made his eyes roll further back into his head than a fourteen year-old girl (no, I’m not calling him a fourteen year-old girl) as he let out the same degrading laugh my grandfather does when I tell him my politics.

This is where I had to control myself and not use him a poster-child for all Beaver fans. Remind myself he is a rogue individual controlled by circumstance and unwilling to simply change the direction of his chair to join another conversation. He is my little brother wanting to derail my birthday celebration—I wont let him do it!

As an attempt to quell his adamancy, I told him that he couldn’t equally be upset at Oregon fans for being pompous if he’s not going to allow us an opportunity to show humility; those words ran straight through his ears and took an express down to his gut, giving him the force to his next bellowing guffaw. Humility? The word had no meaning as far as he was concerned coming from us. I tried to reason with him and have my point heard, but he wasn’t having any of it. He had already built a conversation dam that kept civility from seeping in.

It was at this point that I, after having many a-conversation/interaction with a younger sibling, realized it wasn’t worth the argument because of how I was going to be perceived at the end. Instead I just tried to change the subject so it wouldn’t get out of control. (That sentence reads more arrogant than it’s supposed to… Awareness!)

I wasn’t turned off because I being shut down, I was turned off because of the pettiness of the situation. There was a distain in his voice that was amplified by frustration. I totally get not wanting to talk about Oregon Duck football; trust me, there’s no way in hell I’d want to talk Beaver football for an extended period, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not curious about what people think or how their experience is similar to mine: This wasn’t like that though. This was a fan that presented himself in the worst possible way as a representative for his team. This was a “typical Beaver fan” response, and I hated it because it made the stereotypes true.

(And believe me, I worry about throwing down the “typical” moniker with fans because I know I’m immediately associated with any perpetually drunk web-footed college piece of frat at Autzen.)

So instead of treating him like the normal representative of his team, I focused on his specific reaction as that of a scorned sibling wanting the attention to be back on them. Wanting the room to again focus on how great they are. Luckily I’ve had a lifetime of younger brother interactions to steer the conversation away from his hurt feelings based on my little victory and instead was able to patronize him with genuine conversation without him knowing it.

… I asked him how his weekend was.

(Image from http://1.bp.blogspot.com)

OOO-vercoming Obstacles

There’s a difference between saying you’re going to do something and then actually doing it. This statement is obvious in sentiment but very often not considered when an obstacle presents itself: The girl you always want to talk to; the boss you’d like to punch in the face; the free t-shirt if you eat the entire 72 oz. of steak… you know, obstacles.

But that’s what Saturday was all about for the Oregon Ducks. Meeting obstacles, challenging them, and ultimately overcoming them as they said they would.

As a team that has been knocked for having an easy schedule, Oregon simply continued to win games on Saturday, treating each opponent the same and handling USC with little difference than they did Arizona State. (Though much different than the throttling of the Tennessee Techs and Colorados of the world.) Again, obstacles appear throughout the journey; some seem insurmountable, others trivial, but they all need to be dealt with and handled with a sense of calm and understanding that if you’re going to get over it, you have to think it’s possible to begin with. Chip Kelly has programmed these players (and the fan-base) to see obstacles as opportunities to prove their worth, as opposed to treating them like danger that must be reasoned with.

Oregon knew they had to win, but the difference is they also knew that they could win. Going to USC is never easy for any team, especially one that is looking to take over the Trojan’s mantle as the Pac-12’s best, but Oregon saw the opportunity they’ve been looking for to beat a ranked opponent and seized it with relative ease.

They saw an opportunity to talk to the girl, and they took it.

It’s important to remember, too, acting on impulse versus executing to overcome are two totally different things—that’s why jamming your car into reverse because the asshole riding your bumper deserves to be taught a lesson isn’t an obstacle worth pursuing.

With that in mind, it’s important to highlight that Oregon has set themselves up nicely for the rest of their season. They’ve already jumped up the BCS rankings to #3 based on Saturday’s win, and it seems to reason that they’d continue to jump if they can beat their final four opponents, three of which happen to be ranked.

It’s important to realize Oregon’s always been in control of their destiny this season. Granted, there haven’t been many hiccups along the way, but that’s why it was important that they not shy away or cower—or fail—from the first one. Instead, they can confidently look at themselves and know that they will be stronger in the end. Again, obvious in sentiment, but important to focus on.

Nothing to flap about

Somewhere in the world of reaction-based sports (life, really) a rule was created where fans can only believe in their team. At. All. Times. (I’m pretty sure this rule has bled into politics and suburban parents as well.)

So after seeing the latest BCS rankings have Oregon dropping from #3 to #4, you knew there would be reaction from Webfoot fans decrying the inequity of it all.

However, I’m not as appalled—nor have I had to reacquaint myself with breathing methods often saved for women in their eighth hour of labor. Instead I simply looked at what the result is, what it possibly should be, and what needs to happen in order to correct it.

This is because I have a very rational sense of self. (Trust me, I know reading that makes people want to jam a fork through my trachea, but…) I know my strengths as well as my weaknesses, and this helps me not to get too incredulous when things go wrong because it helps me keep in perspective what I thought the outcome should be, what are the circumstances that are changing it, and what needs to happen in order for the correct end result.

Not that I’ve ever had my rational senses tested by being in a sinking ship or a burning building, but I have sat in traffic one time for over four hours and hardly complained at all. (Hashtag, not the same thing.)

Last week Oregon was properly placed in the rankings at #3 behind Alabama and Florida (much to the chagrin of the Autzen faithful); and yes, the Ducks quacked down on ASU, but Kansas State, who jumped them in this week’s poll, deserves the #3 ranking after giving #13 West Virginia a thumping in West Virginia. Honestly, I don’t know how anyone can argue on this one? Kansas State killed (K-I-L-T) a ranked opponent at home while the Ducks beat (demoralized?) an unranked ASU team that had very little going for it.

This isn’t to say Oregon isn’t better than Kansas State, but it does make sense at this point in the season that they’re ranked lower.

Now for the bright side: as it stands Kansas State only has one more ranked opponent to play this season (Texas Tech this upcoming weekend), while #2 Florida has two ranked opponents left. Oregon has three of their next five games against ranked opponents. If the Ducks continue to win the day, it’ll all work out.

And if it doesn’t, Oregon fans will once again be reminded that you can’t spell BCS without B-S.

From 0 to 43 in two quarters

The Oregon Ducks ran on all cylinders Thursday night against the Arizona State Sun Devils. A finely tuned machine capable of running at high-octane speed, yet also, as anyone who follows the Ducks blend of offensive ingenuity and defensive prowess knows, it was once again a sustainable hybrid. All this to say after putting so much tread on the tires, it was appropriate the score was a blow out.

(Stereotypically, gender roles being abided by, I should know more about cars to further the metaphor, but unfortunately I’m running on empty…)

In actuality, it’s wrong to make a car metaphor since the Ducks offense doesn’t show any signs of breaking down.

Days after being slapped in the face with a #3 ranking from the all-powerful BCS computers, the Ducks were able to withstand an early fumble and Sun Devil touchdown and respond with 43 unanswered points in front of the Arizona State crowd in Tempe, and on national TV. Their resolve in the face of adversity proved that computers truly lack the ability to think critically beyond pure numbers. (Although, obviously that’s a good thing since once they gain that, we’re surely moments away from actually living The Matrix.)

The story on Thursday night—as it’s been since coach Chip Kelly took over at Oregon—was the offense and how it continually and nonchalantly suffocates opposing defenses with its quick, efficient pace. Sun Devil fans celebrated a “black out” theme as they packed the stadium in anticipation of a nationally televised upset win; unfortunately for them, their t-shirt colors matched their mood by the end of the first quarter and, like the Ducks offense, never looked back.

Though ASU shouldn’t feel too bad since they were merely the latest opponent to be run over by the Ducks en route to victory.

The Ducks have been on “pinot” as of late

Normally when I watch Oregon Duck football, I couple it with a Ninkasi IPA since the brewery is also from Eugene, Oregon. A sense of solidarity, as it were. However, I changed the tides of my football consumption and switched over to wine during the Oregon’s annihilation of the Washington Huskies this past Saturday. As I watched Chip Kelly’s Ducks systematically dissect and wrangle the Huskies through fourth quarters, I realized that the reason it felt right to make the change was because the corollary between breaking down the nodes and tastes dancing about my taste buds were the same as watching and exhuming Oregon’s intentional manipulation of a supposedly ranked team in Autzen Stadium. If I were an Auburn fan, beer makes sense while watching a team smash, pound and grind out games and wins. But beer didn’t make sense when dealing the majesty of the Spread Offense, or the grace that goes into delaying a blitz before lowering the proverbial hammer.

It was unconventional to say the least, but that’s why it made so much sense. As the Ducks offense dissected Washington piece by piece, I just continued to stir, sip and aerate. Dissecting my own defenses at will.

While I am in no means an expert on either wine or football, I do know that I am an expert fan that understands enough of what it is to create a winning product—whether that be $2 Chuck, a much more complex bottle of wine, or a preeminent powerhouse making the country pay attention to how they play football. I know that the Ducks offense relies on pace and reading defenses in order to run effectively, and I know what that looks like when I’m watching. Just like I know that personally I enjoy red wines over whites due to the sharper bites of flavor and taste that roll around on my tongue. My knowledge is all based on preference and experience at this point, which I admit may not be the most credible, but sports, like wine, all comes down to taste anyway.

Watching the Ducks squash the Huskies also made me realize something I wasn’t sure was going to be true this season considering they lost super-duper-duper-star running back LaMichael James and are starting an unproven rookie quarterback: I am extremely confident in this year’s Oregon Ducks football team. This is a big deal for me. I am a lifelong Ducks and Portland Trail Blazers fan, so my ability to cheer for good things is normally tempered by the reality of always being pretty good, but never great. (See also: Jake Gyllenhaal.) Even Oregon’s win in last year’s Rose Bowl meant little since two years ago they lost in the National Championship; reconciling the devastation I felt after that with a second place bowl victory meant nothing.

However, this year feels different for some reason. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still terrified of USC, Stanford and Oregon State, but I’m always terrified of them because they consistently pose the largest threat to unraveling an otherwise stellar season. I’m afraid of that trio the same way others are afraid of spiders—I know in my heart that the likelihood of being affected by them is low, but their presence is enough to make me scream uncontrollably as I (somehow) run away from it while also never breaking eye-contact so that I know where it is so that I can tell someone else to kill it.

And still, watching Oregon take turns demolishing the Huskies on Offense and Defense made me finally able to appreciate what I was witnessing as opposed to constantly worrying about all the extra nodes I’m not picking up on. That is to say I’ve fermented my fandom to the point where I think it’s OK to expect great things from my team. Since they’ve been so good for this long, I’ve finally accepted that this might just be the way things are.

The Oregon Ducks have changed the landscape of college football over the past four years, and in doing so have made every other team look at how their team runs and why. They’ve made their fans expect greatness. And they’ve made me realize that it’s OK that I enjoy them unconditionally, at my own pace and with an air of sophistication.

I just hope they don’t make me spit it out.