Things don’t seem as gloomy this morning. It’s funny what a good night sleep and a little sunlight can do (ah, thank you Santa Barbara).

Just a few thoughts the morning after:

1. The better team won–I know some of my comments sounded like sour grapes. I really strive to be objective in this blog, and the bottom line is that the Beavers were close but not good enough. We saw this same pattern against USC and Cincy, the other two elite teams the Beavers played.

2. I wish Duck fans were more classy and gracious in victory. I’m on the record as admiring the image and program they’ve created. On a personal level, I don’t act or dress flamboyantly and such, but it’s an ingenious idea/image that demands a lot of attention. It’s brilliant marketing; that’s the bottom line. I want to pat them on their feathers, but they make it difficult. I’ll take the high road, though. Gotta set an example, right? Congrats Ducks.

3.  Under the circumstances, the Beavers played the best game you could have expected. Not so much on this blog, but on other forums I hear fans talking about refs, injuries, etc. First of all, the refs had an outstanding game. We get on them when they’re terrible, which is 99% of the time, but last night they were spot on. I don’t have a problem with a single call. In fact, I think they missed a few Beaver blocks in the back (on kick returns) if anything. As far as injuries…yes, Clark went out, but I’m not sure that had any effect. He’s not exactly good in run support and nobody got beat deep after he left the game. The middle linebacker, Bubba III (can’t spell his name), was playing well and the Ducks run game seemed to pick up when he left the game. Thing is, and this was me simply being unobservant, I have no idea if he came back in the game or who took his spot (assume Kristick moved to MLB and Pankey/Roberson were outside?). Just didn’t really look for that. Bottom line is that you recruit good backups for this exact reason.

4. The play of the game was in the 4th quarter. The defense had the Ducks 4th and 16 and gave up 14 on a straight ahead handoff to James. Remember in an earlier post when I said the Beavers would likely have to stop the Ducks not only on 3rd down but on 4th downs as well since Chip Kelly is an uber-aggressive mad scientist? Well, the game was decided on one of those 4th downs.

5. I didn’t really care about the Rose Bowl. Honestly, last night was my Rose Bowl. Sure it would have been nice to get to the game, but mostly because it would symbolize arrival as a program and validate last year’s demons. But as far as beating Ohio State, I couldn’t really give a shit.

6. This team grew on me. After the losses to Cincy and Arizona, I was positive the Beavers would miss a bowl game. With so many graduations and young players across the board, this ride was all gravy. Right? Can you really say you expected a Rose Bowl run? The downside is that it became a drug. With each win the stakes were raised, the high stronger, and last night when the drug ran out it was essentially withdrawal.

7. Recruiting. I don’t care what people say, having highly regarded/desirable athletes does matter. You can debate the level that they matter, but they matter. Good guys who play well as a team can get you this far. But the Beavers seem to be taking two steps up and one back on an infiniately long staircase. To make headway you have to do it on the recruiting trail.

8. Beaver fans have no ammo. Ducks will be all over us for years. That’s the worst thing about this. Personally, I don’t read forums where Ducks hang out, but every once and a while I bump into them on a Beaver forum. Everyone says those Duck fans are the exceptions, even hated by fellow Ducks. Who knows. All I know is that there’s no ammo. Not that I care about talking trash, but it would be nice to have at least a couple bullets in the gun if needed.

That’s about all I have to say today.

Let’s get the negatives out of the way in one sentence: there weren’t any, really. The missed tackles, the big plays–those are a product of playing strong and fast opponents. The Ducks gave up big plays to us as well and they missed tackles.

For the record: Riley going on 4th and 15 was the right call. You have to be up by 2 scores at the end of the game to beat the Ducks, because you know they’ll drive it down for at least one. It’s not Mark Banker or Keaton Kristick who can’t stop the spread, it’s every team and player in the Pac-10 (and most likely the nation). Let’s admit and accept this.

The Beavers played their A game tonight. It just wasn’t enough. The most upsetting thing about this game is a theme I see not only in sports, but across this nation: the bad guys always win. Why does the bad guy always win? I asked my lady Beav this philosophical question during the game. She said, “the good teams have integrity and honor. the bad teams don’t have that but they have a will to get what they want anyway they can.” Astute point, and it reminds me why I adore the girl. I feel bad for Yankee fans, Duck fans, Florida fans, Red Sox fans, and everyone who buys their glory. Just as bad are those who weasel their way to glory with dirty recruiting, reinstating LeGarrette Blount, etc. Sour grapes? More like a budding frustration with moral infrastructure in this country.

This might be the only time in my life I witness a game with these stakes, a sad reality, but I’d rather “suffer” through these near misses done the right way than the alternative. I just wouldn’t be able to enjoy the latter. But that’s me. It seems most people can. Whom I feel worse for in all this is Mike Riley. The guy is the hometown, homegrown hero who’s been on the brink of the Rose Bowl twice now. It’s ironic, isn’t it, how success can augment failure? There was a time when Riley would be ecstatic with consolation prizes, but tonight we saw, through his countenance and near-tears, how much (emotion) he has invested in this.  Another interesting point is that my girlfriend feels terrible for me, I feel terrible for Mike Riley, Mike Riley feels most terrible for his players. The hurt is deflected off self and put onto others whom you admire. Care becomes circular like that when people do things the right way.

The Beavers played a fantastic game tonight. If that team is representing your school you raise your head high. You take solace in winning the intangible battles tonight. On the field, you try to get better. This is a sad night, but one that demands reflection, at least from those on the right side of the fight but the wrong side of the ball.

Now that we’ve covered the numbers, let’s discuss reality: the unexpected happens.

I remember growing up a New York Met fan. It was 1988. The Mets had won 15 straight against the Dodgers during the regular season. Then came the NL playoffs. Needless to reminisce (it still hurts), the Dodgers handled the Mets easily and eliminated them from the playoffs. How? Orel Hershiser. One man took over the game, the series, and the season.What’s the point of this anecdote? Fans and media alike enjoy predictions. If the prediction is right, it makes the prognosticator feel special, superior, important. I do it sometimes to arrouse discussion. Predictions are based on numbers, “what if” scenarios, and what “should” happen, but what should happen rarely does. Not just in sports. Look around.

• My gut tells me the Oregon Ducks should win 38-17.
• My gut tells me Chip Kelly is another in a lineage of alpha-male-uber-aggressive-coach-on-steroids that seems to be riddling the pac-10, which means the Beavers won’t have to stop the Ducks for 3 downs, but many times for 4.
• My gut tells me Canfield isn’t ready for this stage and will throw at least one heart-breaking interception.
• My gut thinks the Duck’s confidence is founded in talent, and the belief that their scheme can’t be stopped is a belief that makes them doubly dangerous.

The funny thing is my gut told me the same things about the New York Mets in 1988.

And for the life of me I can’t shake this clandestine yet burgeoning feeling that a magical, historical script is in the process of being written, and the penultimate (the Civil War) in this particular story is more important than the prize (Rose Bowl). That’s what makes this story fascinating. It simply can’t be a blowout; legendary scripts don’t end that way.

Now, let me relay another anecdote: one of my best friends, let’s call him “Brady”, has practically never lost at basketball despite being a mere 5’8. If you had never seen him play, you’d pick him last to join your squad, and even if you witnessed his game, you’d see his short, stocky frame and simply assume he was losing until the bell tolled and he was left smiling. Brady had some talent–he was a deadly outside shooter-but mostly he won with heart. He simply wanted it more than you did; he took advantage of every opportunity presented to him; and in the end, the sum of those parts raised him above his natural ability. How? By refining every part of his game, from the mental to the physical to intangibles like his competitive desire.

As far as Thursday night, I don’t know what’s going to happen. My gut says 38-17, Ducks. But my heart says this Beaver team has a little bit of Brady in them. As fans, we can only hope to have a fair shot and let our players decide the outcome. We cross our collective fingers that there are no injuries, good officiating, fair bounces, and good sportsmanship. And in the end we can only hope that on this aforementioned (somewhat utopian) level playing field, the team that combines talent with heart wins the game. If that happens, something will smell rotten in the state of Pewgene.

The pick: pick ’em.