Monday Morning Tail Slap: OSU's Heartbreaking Home Finale
The curtain closes on the Pac 12 at Reser Stadium, author cries at Buffalo Wild Wings
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It couldn’t have been a more picturesque scene at Reser Stadium on Saturday night. Mother Nature was dumping gallons and gallons of the Pacific Northwest’s finest rain on thousands and thousands of screaming fans. JP, please play five seconds of ‘Come Clean’ by Hilary Duff. I wanna feel the thunder I wanna scream!
When the curtain finally rose, No. 11 Oregon State and No. 5 Washington took center stage in the final performance ever at Reser Stadium for the Pac 12 as we know it. The unrelenting rain made for a poetic, almost Shakespearian, setting for the occasion. The eventual heartbreak of the day matched the tragic conditions as the Beavs fell to the Dawgs 22-20.
I don’t want to dive too much into the X’s and the O’s of the game here. Plenty of folks have done a wonderful job of doing that already. The win punched U-Dub’s ticket to Las Vegas for the Pac 12 Championship Game on December 1, and the loss eliminated Oregon State from any hope of sneaking into the final championship game in conference history. The Beavs can still earn a bid to a high-tier Bowl Game, and can knock Oregon out of College Football Playoff contention with a win on Friday. If you don’t think that would be the sweetest possible early Christmas gift to Beaver Nation then you haven’t been around here very long.
Most of the heartbreak associated with this season has been entirely out of Oregon State’s control, which of course doesn’t make it any easier pill for any Beaver fan to swallow. The Pac 12, an institution once billed as “The Conference of Champions” is crumbling due to overwhelming corporate greed and inept conference leadership. In total, 10 partners have chosen mutiny and money over heritage and tradition, leaving OSU and Beaver Nation to stand in a long line outside the club to wonder what it’s going to be like when and if they ever get inside. If you think Oregon State had any cards to play to stand in the way of their soon-to-be former partners and help preserve the conference that once was then I have a bridge I want to sell ya.
As U-Dub’s Heisman hopeful quarterback Michael Penix Jr took the game’s final kneel down, melting the clock of its remaining seconds and handing the Beavers their first loss at Reser Stadium in 420 days, it was hard to feel anything but miserable. It was freezing. It was still raining. Every part of me and every piece of clothing on me was cold and wet. Every friend around me had started eying the exits, visions of a cold beer in a warm bar no doubt dancing in their heads. I wanted the cold beer and warm bar too, just thinking about it sent a shockwave of warmth through my bloodstream, but I had a hard time moving towards the exits or even taking my gaze away from the field. Doing either of those things made the end of the Pac 12 at my alma mater feel way too real.
Longtime New York Times sports writer Malcolm Moran probably said it best. Moran covered the iconic Duke vs. Kentucky East Regional Final in the 1992 NCAA Tournament at the Spectrum in Philadelphia (the Christian Laettner buzzer beater game). The game, which still holds up as the greatest game ever played, ended when Laettner, who didn’t miss once, hit the game-winning shot at the buzzer in overtime. A shot that put the exclamation point on not only the game, but also the thousands of compelling storylines that swirled around it.
“That’s the feeling everybody (in the media) had,” Moran said in ESPN’s ‘SportsCentury’ documentary of the game. “Bang! A horn goes off, a ball goes in, and now it’s time to leave? I mean we have to leave now?! Isn’t there another encore? If we light a match will Bruce come out and do ‘Born to Run’?”
I would have loved it if Bruce had been available to do ‘Born to Run’ on the soaked Reser Stadium turf. Not a lot could have cheered me up at that moment, but the late great Clarence Clemons coming down from the heavens and unleashing one of the most iconic saxophone solos of all time would have been a nice start. The game was over and the Beavs lost. The curtain officially closed on the Pac 12 as we know it at Reser Stadium and not a single page in the Play Bill could be found to suggest otherwise. The finality of walking out of Reser at the end of such an occasion was just too much for me to handle.
My co-host on the Belligerent Beavs Podcast Benny Wehage grabbed my arm and pulled me into a tight hug. My dear friend Iskindir did the same. Both friends of mine who have been Beavs long before Oregon State University and a magical place called Corvallis were even a glint in my eye.
The gravity of the moment was overpowering, but that same gravity has been present this entire season for everyone across Beaver Nation. Something we’ve loved for 10 years, 20 years, 30 years, our entire lives, whatever it is, something we love doesn’t get to exist the way it should anymore because a few nameless suits decided we weren’t valuable enough. This is what occurred to me as I looked over Iskindir’s shoulder at the Reser Stadium turf, soaked all the way through and now speckled with family and fans waiting for their loved ones in orange and black, and I just lost it.
Those tears clung to my face like the multiple pounds of rain water clung to every inch of fabric weighing me down to this cruel world. The rain finally, mercifully, relented and we walked as far as our spent legs could carry us—back to our hotel on 9th st, and conveniently located feet away from a Buffalo Wild Wings.
‘Born to Run’ would have been a perfect soundtrack for our hike, both literally and figuratively.
Together, Wendy, we can live with the sadness
I'll love you with all the madness in my soul
Oh, someday, girl, I don't know when
We're gonna get to that place
Where we really wanna go and we'll walk in the sun
But 'til then, tramps like us
Baby, we were born to run
We eventually got our well-deserved cold beer and well-needed warm bar. Sweet relief in more ways than one, but none of them changed the fact that the Pac 12 as we know it just played its final game at Reser Stadium. It’s never been on my bucket list to ugly cry inside of a Buffalo Wild Wings, but reader, if it was, I could cross it the fuck off now because that’s exactly what I did and no amount of spicy garlic sauce, cheesy potato wedges, or extra tall pours of Bud Light could make it any better.
Part of me felt guilty for losing it like that in front of two friends who have been Beavs far longer than my 17 years in the family. I gathered myself quickly and didn’t need to try too hard to remind myself that the Beaver Fam is one of the luckiest families to be a part of.
When the wings and second round were delivered, so too was another jolt of optimism. ‘We still match up well with Oregon,’ I said. ‘Yeah, we’re gonna fucking beat those assholes!’ Benny said. ‘Chop Em!’ Iskindir added.
Chop Em. A rallying cry you can’t spell without ‘hope.’ The tears were naturally replaced with sweat as I inhaled the spicy garlic wings and slowly got over the loss, each minute passing with another reasonable reason why we could ruin Oregon’s season on Black Friday.
On top of that, hopeful possibilities on hopeful possibilities passed through my brain that maybe, when all this dust settles, the future for Oregon State will be brighter than anyone thinks it could be. Maybe the silver lining on this black cloud day could be the real riches we’re all looking for. Maybe, just maybe, we’re not supposed to stay in the same place for so long.
Tramps like us, baby, we were born to run.