Be careful what you wish for. If you are lucky and fully alive, the heart and mind will pursue it like an arrow, defining you as a person. Watching this unfold, the desires of mind and body devoted to one purpose, is at the heart of why sports are so compelling.
That, and pretty cheerleaders, the gathering of friends, and beer.
Photo left: it’s Kenjon’s team now. He’s the leader and the focal point, but the biggest question is who is going to be handing him the ball (zimbio.com photo).
In a couple of short weeks the Ducks formally begin the quest for a fourth straight conference championship. Roll that sentence around in your mind for a few moments. Remember the bad old days. Remember when USC dominated West coast football and the nation, their coach mouthing “fuck you” from the sidelines when a single call went the other way. They were elite, and the Ducks were the flashy team that folded under pressure, imploding when a star became a lockerroom cancer or stood plaintively on the sidelines wearing crutches, the team couldn’t get lined up for a field goal or a spike in the last precious seconds against their hated rivals from up highway 99.
Now, Oregon is the glamor brand of college football, as cool as a liquid metal helmet, a team so deep and talented and well-organized that they can lose the best tailback in school history and a two-year starter at quarterback who’d thrown more touchdowns than Bill Musgrave, Joey Harrington or Danny O’Neil, and the national writers still pick them as one of the top five teams in the country, still one of the leading contenders for an elusive national championship. The Trojans loom again, a distant November 3rd showdown in the storied Los Angeles Coliseum, but the Ducks are relevant, resurgent and man, are they fun to watch.
Chip Kelly stayed. John Boyett is back. Kenjon and De’Anthony will take the ball, and how far they soar depends largely on two young quarterbacks, each supremely talented, bright and quietly confident, each poised and mature enough to know how to handle a day-to-day, win-the-day competition with a good friend. Brian Bennett and Marcus Mariota will take their place in drills and live snaps, wearing red jerseys under watchful, practiced eyes. For five months they’ll duel and drill, most of it in closed session, until the Oregon Athletic Office quietly sends out an announcement that one or the other is the heir apparent, the man, the operator of the most consistently explosive and exciting offense in college football.
A lot goes in to the molding of a football team. In college football, every new season is a fresh beginning, with new leaders, new stars and new hopes. Stalwarts like Kenny Rowe and Josh Kaddu are gone. Mark Asper, with his beaming face and rock solid maturity, isn’t around any longer to pave the huge holes LMJ used to scamper to 58 touchdowns and incredible glory. New players have to take center stage. Michael Clay has to be the rock in the center of the defense. A defensive line has to gel, and among several fast, hard-hitting candidates, someone has to prove they’re ready to be John Boyett’s wingman at safety.
Most importantly, a new group has to identify their leaders and their goals, and prove their willingness to sacrifice and stay on target in five long months for a season that will only happen once in their lives.
We watch, and our heart soars with them, pursuing hope like an arrow to the target of excellence. It’s spring football, and despite March Madness and Opening Day and the blooming of the azaleas, it might be the most compelling sports story west of the Rockies. To watch and participate in the unfolding of their dreams is a tremendous gift, being mindful it ought not be the only one we have.
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