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.

I love them, I love him not

The psychology of a sports fan is unnatural considering how much torment one goes through for how seldom they are rewarded. It is also, admittedly, a topic that has been exhausted to the point that you knowing what this is about is enough to make you want to gouge my face so that yours will remain intact allowing you to read something that isn’t as agonizing as a quasi-athletic-yet-never-good-enough-to-even-fathom-playing-pro-anything guy rant about people superiorly talented in comparison. And yet, you wont. Hopefully that is, because a face gouging just seems like one of the last things I could deal with right now, especially considering that I’ve been absorbing the excessive stomach punches that come as port of being a fan of the Portland Trail Blazers. My body needs a break from the pounding.

Last week John Canzano – whom I despise at a local level the same way I despise Jim Rome at a national level because there seems to be little attempt at fostering conversation and more emphasis on stirring the shit – had a really nice article in reaction to Blazers team president Larry Miller stepping down. His plea to the organization was to “get back to the business of  basketball.” This is hardly a new sentiment amongst Portland fans, but it was articulate and well-timed, and he is right. For too long now the focus has been off the court, which with the frequency of the stories that are revealed seems to be exactly what own Paul Allen wants because it makes him the focal point and the star. Basketball has taken a back seat for so long that now, even if it seems like new GM Neil Olshey is trying to do the right thing and go after young talent that allows the team to simultaneously compete and build, I don’t get why anyone would want to come here with the circus they’ve created. Money is money, yes, and our fans are great, but everyone’s had a job they liked with a manager they hated. Eventually, that manager becomes a reason not to enjoy your job.

Olshey, to his credit, has tried to be basketball-first and been at least outwardly active and aggressive. But even now the ongoing contract negotiations with Nic Batum have become so convoluted and nasty that no one cares. And worse, no one is surprised that it’s gotten to this point. The amount of unwarranted hubris that this organization (Allen) carries around does nothing more than make you wonder why someone would put grapefruits in their pants and call them testicles?

I want to see a championship in my lifetime, but I highly doubt it’ll ever happen as long as this is the status-quo: a me-first office that thinks it’s the star and, despite the facts proving otherwise, thinks also that it knows best.

Between 1988, the year Allen took over the team, and 1992, the Portland Trail Blazers went to the NBA finals twice; since then, the have had only two Western Conference Finals appearances, period. After that, it’s one round and out. (Or, more recently, not at all.)

My passion for the team will never waver, but the consistency with which I have to clarify my adoration for the team juxtaposed by my level of disgust of the management is unnecessary.

And yet, my willingness to make the distinction is what makes me a fan.