The Runny Pen

Developed from English rugby, a primitive hybrid was played by the young men of Harvard on the Boston Common every Monday (known as “Bloody Monday”) gaining popularity within the college system by 1860. After the Civil War, colleges across the nation created teams with Princeton establishing a crude version of rules. In 1867 the football was patented. Afterwards, Walter Camp, the coach at Yale invented the 110-yard field length, the eleven man team size and a series of three downs to move the ball five yards. By 1912 four downs were allowed to move the ball ten yards.

After struggle and spirited debate the National Football League arose in 1921. Professional teams! Imagine the shock of the first college player who bypassed his accounting degree only to accept a higher paycheck playing his beloved ‘football’ for half the year. That must’ve been the most elated cashing of five hundred dollars.

Last weekend I became a University of Oregon “Ducks” fan when my friend Ryan drove me down to Eugene to witness their stomping of the Utah State “Utes” (what exactly is a Ute? Ok, I just read it was a tribe of Indians in the Arizona/Utah region. Makes sense. But if you think it lame to be labelled an Oregon ‘Duck’ how about claiming ‘Ute’? Also, I cannot help but point out that the Utes are from Utah the state that invented Mormonism. Within this religion was a clause called “The Mark Of Cain” that was enforced until 1978. This “mark” was attributed to skin color, i.e. anyone with African descent was somehow linked to the biblical story of Cain and Abel; Cain supposedly being the world’s first murderer. The result: black people were denied priesthood within the LDS church because of their “Mark Of Cain” until the 70’s when the US government started knocking on the door and they suddenly heard a new voice from God telling them to reverse their position before court proceedings against the church began. The current quarterback for Utah State is an African-American man by the name of Terrance Cain).

There is no excitement in sports like the live football game. A running team is often less exciting than a passing team but the thunder within Autzen stadium, the band, the cheerleaders, the jumbo-tron screen, and the contagious passion of the green and yellow fans reduce the sport of badminton to the essence of what it is. Fucking ridiculous.

Ryan asked if I’d like to wear a Ducks poncho but I wanted to wear neutral black and decide how I felt about the team. I’d always liked Notre Dame because they (”The Fighting Irish”) spawned Joe Montana and “Rudy” is one of my favorite movies. But I hadn’t followed the team much beyond the Lou Holtz era and stopped watching football altogether the past few seasons for no reason I can identify.

I was high-fiving the stranger next to me within ten minutes of entering the Nike-funded stadium. By the third quarter my throat was hoarse screaming support for the Ducks. Rain poured down as their back-to-back turnovers broke my heart and their ten point victory had me hugging Ryan and searching for a Ducks cap to purchase. The sport may have caught on after the American Civil War but now I anticipate Oregon’s Civil War game between the University of Oregon Ducks and the Oregon State Beavers.

The following day I completed my Sunday chores early so I could watch my San Francisco 49ers play the Seattle Seahawks at 1 pm. I sat with chips and a soda recalling Niners’ memories from my life. “The Throw” from Joe Montana and “The Catch” received by Dwight Clark at the buzzer of the 1981 NFC Championship game watched with Scott Schirle and his parents in their family room. The last drive of the ‘89 Superbowl victory over Cincinnati watched within a room full of Bengals fans where Super Joe (49ers down by 3) started a 92 yard drive with 3:20 seconds on the clock only to deliver the winning pass to John Taylor with 34 seconds remaining (an almost mystically calm Montana, before calling that first play of the winning drive, from the huddle casually pointed out to his teammates that John Candy was standing on the sidelines).

But most of all it is the weather change that reminds me of football. I am tired of the sun by Autumn and appreciate the crisp air and dry brown leaves. I anticipate my first bite of Round Table pizza as rain assaults the window and the announcer screams from the television. I remember throwing a football in the street at half-time with my father. I recall a muddy Doyle Park field where my friends and I spent our teenage Sundays playing back-to-back games for hours as grey skies slowly changed afternoon to night and we walked home drenched, absorbing the bummer of school on Monday.