Oregon and Oregon State: Chronicling the start of a new era for the Ducks and Beavers
Our travel log of a historic day in Corvallis.
Location: Monroe
6:08 p.m.
I don’t think Dan Lanning is coming.
It’s about two hours after the end of his Ducks’ best game to date: a 49-14 win over rival Oregon State, where Oregon put up 546 yards of total offense, shut out the Beavers in the second half, and, after two games of not looking like that team, very much played the part of a contender in its nonconference finale.
But, of course, it wasn’t just the nonconference finale.
Today was the 128th meeting between Oregon and Oregon State, and the first since college football hit the fan. The Ducks are in the Big Ten. The Beavers are busy patching together the Pac-12. It’s September. It’s been a weird day. But there were moments where, if you squinted hard and cranked up the AC, one could be momentarily transported to late November.
There was a lot of orange. There was a lot of booing. There were kids begging players for autographs, police escorts, cars with Ducks and Beavers flags and a pretty sweet flyover. It felt like a rivalry game, enough so that I had to ask Lanning if there were any traditions he felt necessary to either continue or, possibly, resurrect.
Maybe, for instance, the coach and his staff would take the long way home to Eugene and stop by the Long Branch. The tavern is 18 miles from Corvallis, 23 miles from Eugene and, for 30 years stretching from Rich Brooks to Chip Kelly, served as the postgame watering hole for Oregon coaches following the game with the team up north.
So, Dan, what are you going to be doing later?
“We’re going to be breaking down our film. But I’m going to be honest, on our drive up, I was thinking about that,” Lanning said. “Coach Brooks has told me about that in the past, about the opportunity to stop and have a cold frosty, right? I imagine somewhere tonight I’ll probably have one, but I’ll be watching film and it probably won’t be there.”
Probably.
“Probably won’t” is not “no.” And if I’ve learned anything about Dan Lanning the last three years, it’s that the coach doesn’t shy away from saying no when given the opportunity. So while I don’t think Lanning and the staff will be showing up to this bar packed with Ducks and Beavers fans at the moment, I thought it would be worth it to make the trip down just in case.
Worst case scenario: I have a warm seat to transcribe some interviews. And, maybe I’ll have the opportunity to tell someone about this historic day for both programs.
Pull up a chair.
Location: Portland
6:01 a.m.
Alarm sounds.
6:08 a.m.
Alarm sounds, again. That came early. Eight hours ago I was in the Providence Park press box strategizing with the AP’s Anne Peterson about how to attack this morning’s traffic. She advised to leave early — the first two games of the season saw brutal bumper-to-bumper traffic along the Corridor. And while today is just a nonconference game between opponents, it’s, oddly enough, the Ducks and Beavers on the schedule today.
The game has never been played this early in the season.
I better hit the road. I hope the weather holds — that appointment for new tires for the rainy season isn’t until Monday.
7:01 a.m.
The Mazda 3 starts. My tank is three-quarters full. The radio spins on and suddenly Dave Grohl’s voice fills the cabin.
“It’s times like these we learn to love again.”
This isn’t the week for that, Dave.
Location: Wilsonville
7:24 a.m.
I forgot my sunglasses. That’s never been an issue before. Of the 10 times I’ve covered this game, maybe once the drive hasn’t featured dark skies, wind, rain and a whole lot of traffic. Did you know it’s actually possible for a vehicle to travel the speed limit as it passes through Wilsonville? I do now. And I really wish I brought my shades as the sun begins to peak through the thin layer of morning clouds to illuminate the dewy Willamette Valley.
This surely isn’t rivalry weather. It does feel like football, though.
Location: Albany
8:18 a.m.
There are hot air balloons in the sky. A red, yellow and blue one is gassing up just outside the municipal airport, while another checkered with blue, green and purple hangs in the sky a few miles down the freeway, just above the Corvallis exit.
It’s getting warmer now. I think this sweatshirt might be too much. That’s a first.
Location: Corvallis
8:38 a.m.
I pass cyclists in yellow jerseys as Highway 34 twists its way toward Corvallis. A round at Trysting Tree golf course looks like it was hard to come by this morning, yet there’s still little traffic as I take the exit to campus. Roads are clear and stadium staff are still in their pre-game meetings as the car lumbers into the campus parking garage.
I’m way too early, but so is my photographer JJ Anderson. I give him his credential as we begin our walk to the stadium.
9:54 a.m.
The bands are warming up on the field in t-shirts and shorts. The OSU band outnumbers the Oregon band. Drum rolls and squeals from saxophones and trumpets fill the air. A private jet makes a low approach over the stadium and one member of the OSU band notices.
“Flyover! Flyover!” she yells. “You’re early!”
Across the field, a family of seven gathers on the OSU sideline and asks a passerby to take their photo. It’s going to be their Christmas card this year, they say.
Over the PA system, an announcement is made that Oregon State has left its hotel and the Beaver Walk is imminent.
10:13 a.m.
An argument breaks out amongst the security crew. They just finished their final preparations before the gates open, and in their last seconds of peace, one guard poses a question.
“Did you know,” he begins, “that Phil Knight paid $23 million for this team?”
Whooooaaaa. Whaaaatt? No way!!!!
He tells the crew that this rivalry was better when the teams played twice every year, which apparently stopped, he says, when the liberals “canceled” the Civil War back in 2020.
The Beaver Walk has concluded and a group of fans at the gates break out into a rousing chant of “Fuck the Ducks! Fuck the Ducks!”
11:35 a.m.
The press box is packed. It’s loud. It really echoes in here. Hey, at least they have food this time — our boxed lunches include potato chips, a chocolate chip cookie, mac salad and a turkey sandwich.
“Just like Thanksgiving,” Oregonian reporter Ryan Clarke tells me.
I spot Anne Peterson.
“Long time no see!” she says.
11:45 a.m.
Scott Barnes has drawn a crowd. The Oregon State athletic director is holding a victory lap of a press conference up here in the box, talking with us media a day after the university announced that Fresno State, San Diego State, Boise State and Colorado State would be joining Oregon State and Washington State in a new-look Pac-12 Conference.
He says the group will be looking to add two to four more teams in the future and uses the word “bunches” when asked if they’ve been approached by schools since the announcement. He also says that Oregon State needs to get out of its comfort zone and start doing a better job “of letting the world know how great this university is.”
11:52 a.m.
As Barnes speaks, Phil Knight and his entourage enter the press box. Knight walks behind Barnes’ presser, shakes the hand of one reporter participating, then walks out as Barnes continues.
12:36 p.m.
Oregon State announced this as a sellout about an hour ago and it looks like they haven’t stretched the number. The two bands are playing the anthem, and I see a few fans beneath the press box pointing to the sky.
Two fighter jets fly over right as the band hits their final notes. Hell yeah.
12:42 p.m.
Coin toss. All the Ducks captains are from Oregon. This is usually a color rush game, but the Ducks are wearing white and the Beavers are in black.
12:45 p.m.
And we’re underway.
12:55 p.m.
Oregon State’s first drive comes up scoreless. Grant Starck, the son of former Oregon lineman Justin Starck, false started on fourth-and-1, pushing the Beavers into a field goal attempt that’ll end up being blocked. The Ducks move down the field easily on their first drive, punching it in with a 4-yard Jordan James run that’s followed by the entire stadium booing Oregon kicker Atticus Sappington during the extra point.
Sappington transferred to Oregon last winter after the Portland native played three seasons at OSU. His extra point is good.
“Being booed — for his traitorous ways, I suppose,” OSU broadcaster Mike Parker says over the radio.
1:20 p.m.
With one second to go in the first quarter, Oregon State ties the game at 7-7 with a six-yard Anthony Hackerson touchdown run. The home fans erupt, then as we go into break the PA announces this is the largest crowd — 38,416 — in Reser’s post-renovation history.
1:52 p.m.
Well, there are at least 30-plus thousand Oregon State fans who know something that Oregon fans didn’t know a week ago: Dillon Gabriel is a pretty good quarterback. After struggling behind a porous offensive line the last two weeks, the Ducks have been giving the Oklahoma transfer plenty of cover.
The one-time Heisman front-runner has taken advantage.
On Oregon’s second drive, Gabriel rattled off a 51-yard touchdown run along the left side for the 15-7 lead. And here on Oregon’s third drive, Gabriel just connected with Traeshon Holden in the end zone for a 20-yard touchdown. He’s yet to throw an incomplete pass.
2:15 p.m.
It’s halftime, the Ducks lead 22-14, and I’m not sure what to think. On one hand, Oregon’s offense looks…like Oregon. With Iapani Laloulu playing center, Nishad Strother at left guard and Marcus Harper on the right side, the Ducks have yet to allow a sack — notable after the four Gabriel took in the first half last week against Boise State. And it turns out, when given time, the Ducks can move the ball through the air and on the ground.
Yet, they still just lead by one possession over an Oregon State team that has played two quarterbacks and is torching the Ducks on the ground — especially along the outside, where the Beavers have been getting players out into space where the Ducks have been terrible at wrapping up.
2:38 p.m.
Halftime ends with players from the Portland Trail Blazers lobbing shirts into the stands. On a day where the crowd has been lively, where both teams are playing with energy, it doesn’t seem like Scoot Henderson and Co. want to be in Corvallis on one of their last weekends of the offseason.
2:43 p.m.
Gabriel just had his first incomplete pass — a throw just behind Tez Johnson that likely would have gone for six. I do not see any action warming up on the Oregon sidelines. Looks like Dan Lanning will stick with his quarterback despite this glaring error.
3:15 p.m.
A loud “Let’s go Ducks” has erupted inside of Reser, with good reason. Oregon outgained Oregon State 198 to 13 in the third quarter. And on the first play of the fourth, Noah Whittington ran it in from 28 yards out.
He held onto the ball well into the end zone this time.
Oregon leads 39-14 and the Oregon State student section is beginning to thin out.
3:25 p.m.
Gary Horowitz, formerly of the Statesman Journal, stops by my seat to say hello. Gary is one of many media members who I usually only see at this game. I’ll never get Gary’s voice out of my head from my early days on the beat, when he used to call up the Statesman’s desk on deadline to make sure “Mr. Marrrrrtinnnniii,” had everything he needed.
I miss Pete. I wonder where he’d have the Ducks ranked after this one.
Jayden Limar takes a short Gabriel pass for a 46-yard touchdown. Always nice when that works out. Gabriel is 20 of 24 for 291 yards two passing touchdowns and that rushing score.
I would hope he’s done.
3:38 p.m.
Dante Moore is in making his Oregon debut. And while this once highly-touted five-star may very well be the future of Oregon football, today he serves as the human victory cigar. It’s time to head down to the field.
3:56 p.m.
Oregon wins 49-14. There’s no fans rushing the field this time. There’s no sea of orange cascading down the aisles. Lanning hugs Oregon State’s coach Trent Bray at midfield, then slaps UO defensive coordinator Tosh Lupoi on the back.
“Nice work,” Lanning tells him of a game that saw the Ducks limit the Beavers to just 4.6 yards per play.
A handful of Oregon State players give Sappington hugs as he departs the field.
4:14 p.m.
The media room is packed. Usually, we do the visiting team postgame over in Gill Coliseum, but that’s since moved to the bowels of Reser. Lanning enters first. He’s in a good mood.
“I’d love to keep this rivalry alive,” he says. “Personally I think it’s great for the state of Oregon, I think it’s great for both schools. That’s not something we want to see go away.”
I ask him about Monroe.
4:40 p.m.
After linebacker Bryce Boetcher, Laloulu and outside linebacker Teitum Tuioti speak, Gabriel strolls into the press conference. A few minutes earlier he was taking selfies with fans, signing autographs and hugging his family in the front row of the stands behind Oregon’s bench.
And now, he’s feeling it.
On his touchdown run: “A lot of people want to see me switch to running back.”
On his offensive line: “I don’t think I was really touched.”
On what he’ll remember from the third different rivalry of his collegiate career: “Gosh, it was just fun. I had a blast. I've just appreciated playing in a bunch of new places from the Southeast all the way up to the Northwest. I think you just appreciate different environments. Sometimes it's fun to hear fans chirp at you. I'll appreciate everything that came with it and of course getting the W.”
5 p.m.
I get back up to the press box and the Long Branch is on my mind. There’s still plenty of daylight and this game feels like it needs something different than an Xs and Os gamer. Traffic appears light.
Looks like we’re doing this.
I gather my things, give Bill Oram a fist bump and, for the first time in a decade, head south after Corvallis.
Location: Monroe
6:30 p.m.
Well, this place cleared out. It was shoulder to shoulder when I walked in, but over the last 30 minutes we’ve gone from party central to a small sports bar in a town of 672. There’s only people at two other tables as I sit at the counter and order a patty melt. The sound from the TVs dies and is replaced by country on the jukebox. Amy, the bartender, looks relieved.
“It was a disaster today,” she says, then laughs. “It was a lot busier than usual. It was good. I think. Yeah.”
6:45 p.m.
Dan’s definitely not coming. The team is likely back in Eugene by now, plus, it’s too bright in here these days. Part of the appeal for Oregon coaches back in the day was dim lighting that let them celebrate or stew in relative peace. Shoot, that’s why they stopped coming here in the first place after the 2008 season: it was too easy for everyone to spot when the Oregon coaches dropped in. So, with Kelly at the helm in 2010, the Ducks beat the Beavers to clinch their spot in the national championship game, then passed on through.
That night, the staff partied at Prairie Schooner Tavern out by the Eugene Airport. They haven’t been in Monroe back since.
7 p.m.
An Oregon coach appears as I’m paying my tab. It’s on the television. It’s Mark Helfrich. And, for some reason in his role as a Fox analyst doing the UCF/TCU game, they’re feeding him?
I wish they had the sound on. Then again, today has already been weird enough.
Location: Portland
9:37 p.m.
There’s that traffic. Brake lights brighten the sky and it starts to drizzle as I come to a stop near the Terwilliger exit. Hey, this is the same spot I spent nearly 10 hours that one time. Oh god.
9:52 p.m.
I pull into home and I still don’t know what to think. From a football perspective: I think it’s OK to stop worrying about the Ducks. They looked the part on Saturday, and if that statistics weren’t clear enough to show that, maybe some of the OSU message board fodder proves the point:
And, looking back at Bray’s press conference, it seems like OSU’s coach wasn’t feeling nostalgic when asked about future dates of this rivalry.
“I haven’t even thought about that, to be honest with you,” he said. “That’s a ways down the road, that I’m not concerned with right now.”
Nor should he be. Remember, it’s September. The Beavers host another Big Ten opponent, Purdue, next week. Part of the charm to this rivalry in its original form was the finality to it. The game was a climax, as opposed to whatever launching pad this may be.
And after a really long day going up and down the Corridor, I can confidently say that the rivalry is not in a better place. But I also don’t believe it’s been left for dead. It’s weird now. And yes, many of the traditions that all of you grew up with are either gone or in an adjustment stage.
And that’s OK. You’ll make new ones to create out of the memories that come from whatever this game turns into. Maybe it’s a round of golf. Maybe it’s a balloon flight. Maybe it’s being the first fans in 130 years to pick up a sunburn watching the Ducks play the Beavers.
Or, maybe it’s taking a little detour on the ride home to enjoy a really good patty melt.
Goodnight.
— Tyson Alger, The I-5 Corridor
This is some damn good writing. I should've subscribed sooner.
Great article! The "This isn’t the week for that, Dave." might've been my favorite part.