Rivals have one common trait: mutual animosity
We live in a red state/blue state political landscape. But each year, for one week, the only colors that matter to the state's residents are orange and green, as Oregon divides itself into two hostile camps: Corvallis versus Eugene, Beavers versus Ducks.
The bad blood and animosity between the Civil War schools are pronounced and longstanding.
This week in particular, the rivalry more closely mirrors the country's divided political landscape than a mere football contest. Examined in a political context, it's intriguing to ponder the similarities and differences between the teams.
The Ducks, for example, have changed uniform combinations this season about as frequently as John Kerry changed positions on Iraq. If you're in the OSU camp, by contrast, you always know where the Beavers stand: white jerseys for away games, black jerseys for home games; no flip-flopping here.
In any event, the Beavers hardly have the time for careful wardrobe selection when, like Tom DeLay and Lewis "Scooter" Libby, they are kept busy in the courtroom answering indictments.
The Oregonian, which some Beavers fans hold in roughly the same regard as George Bush holds The New York Times, dutifully reports every morsel of Beavers misbehavior. Anyone who is looking for an anti-Riley tirade after a tough loss or an off-the-field incident involving Beavers players can find plenty of satisfaction in John Canzano's column.
In its favor, The Oregonian does attempt a fair and balanced approach toward reporting Ducks and Beavers news.
In the run-up to last season's Civil War, Ducks cornerback Justin Phinisee confidently proclaimed, "We don't plan on losing. We plan on beating (the Beavers) by as many points as we can."
In sports, as in politics, an unfulfilled promise or boast can do serious damage to one's credibility. Note to Justin: See Al "I invented the Internet" Gore about telling big whoppers. (It was a 50-21 Beavers win, by the way.)
Putting aside these red state/blue state differences, these teams might have more in common than most fans imagine; take the 2000 Civil War, for example.
The confident 9-1 Ducks invaded Reser Stadium led by Central Catholic graduate Joey Harrington. Over the course of the afternoon, the renegade Beavers defense intercepted five of Harrington's passes en route to a 23-13 victory, a share of the Pacific-10 Conference title and a Fiesta Bowl berth.
The chest bumps and celebration dances after sacks that came to symbolize the unrestrained Beavers defense appeared in stark contrast to the choir-boy image of quarterback Harrington and the slick Times Square-billboard Ducks.
Yet despite these style differences, both teams were chasing a Pac-10 championship, Bowl Championship Series game and a 10-win season. And most important, the teams harbored an intense hatred for each other.
Although the stakes for state bragging rights might be different this year, one constant remains: The Beavers hate the Ducks, and the Ducks hate the Beavers. So are we really that different after all?
The answer is a qualified maybe. But perhaps this year, all fans and political parties can put aside our differences and find common ground in one truth:
We really can't stand each other.
The bad blood and animosity between the Civil War schools are pronounced and longstanding.
This week in particular, the rivalry more closely mirrors the country's divided political landscape than a mere football contest. Examined in a political context, it's intriguing to ponder the similarities and differences between the teams.
The Ducks, for example, have changed uniform combinations this season about as frequently as John Kerry changed positions on Iraq. If you're in the OSU camp, by contrast, you always know where the Beavers stand: white jerseys for away games, black jerseys for home games; no flip-flopping here.
In any event, the Beavers hardly have the time for careful wardrobe selection when, like Tom DeLay and Lewis "Scooter" Libby, they are kept busy in the courtroom answering indictments.
The Oregonian, which some Beavers fans hold in roughly the same regard as George Bush holds The New York Times, dutifully reports every morsel of Beavers misbehavior. Anyone who is looking for an anti-Riley tirade after a tough loss or an off-the-field incident involving Beavers players can find plenty of satisfaction in John Canzano's column.
In its favor, The Oregonian does attempt a fair and balanced approach toward reporting Ducks and Beavers news.
In the run-up to last season's Civil War, Ducks cornerback Justin Phinisee confidently proclaimed, "We don't plan on losing. We plan on beating (the Beavers) by as many points as we can."
In sports, as in politics, an unfulfilled promise or boast can do serious damage to one's credibility. Note to Justin: See Al "I invented the Internet" Gore about telling big whoppers. (It was a 50-21 Beavers win, by the way.)
Putting aside these red state/blue state differences, these teams might have more in common than most fans imagine; take the 2000 Civil War, for example.
The confident 9-1 Ducks invaded Reser Stadium led by Central Catholic graduate Joey Harrington. Over the course of the afternoon, the renegade Beavers defense intercepted five of Harrington's passes en route to a 23-13 victory, a share of the Pacific-10 Conference title and a Fiesta Bowl berth.
The chest bumps and celebration dances after sacks that came to symbolize the unrestrained Beavers defense appeared in stark contrast to the choir-boy image of quarterback Harrington and the slick Times Square-billboard Ducks.
Yet despite these style differences, both teams were chasing a Pac-10 championship, Bowl Championship Series game and a 10-win season. And most important, the teams harbored an intense hatred for each other.
Although the stakes for state bragging rights might be different this year, one constant remains: The Beavers hate the Ducks, and the Ducks hate the Beavers. So are we really that different after all?
The answer is a qualified maybe. But perhaps this year, all fans and political parties can put aside our differences and find common ground in one truth:
We really can't stand each other.
