Bleacher Report - Articles by Nick Lilja

Did You Ever Notice That...

Nick Lilja — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 02:04:20 -0400

Taking a step back from any situation is an interesting thing, really. An objective look at a scenario can be eye-opening at the very least. Oftentimes it shows that the most obvious or mundane details tend to have a little bit of irony, humor, or befuddlement. Andy Rooney may have perfected it, but there are a lot of writers how there that have yet to exploit it. Until now.

Have you ever noticed that...

Commentators calling a game in which Brett Favre is playing can't just say his first or last name. It's always, “Look at Brett Favre out there having fun” or “That's a Brett Favre play, right there.” Even Favre can't even identify himself without using his first and last name. In press conferences, in movies, everywhere. Recall his first coming-out-of-retirement press conference when he said, “Well, we'll just have to see how many Brett Favre fans are truly Brett Favre fans.” Well, in the immortal words of Jon Gruden, “That's just vintage Brett Favre.”

And, heck it's the exact opposite for Peyton Manning. Commentators call him by his first name only. I know he is a likable guy. His Sprint commercials are great. The Oreo ads with his brother, may be even better. But I fail to recall when everyone in the media became best friends with this him.

Umpires are always scowling. Then again if the fans were always riding me I might not want to be smiling either. I know it's a tough job guys but damn, don't take it too seriously. You could have a heart attack and die, fellas. Remember the late John McSherry?

Fans always call Kobe Bryant a “team killer” because he always wants to take the shot. It's almost like they choose to forget that he is the best player on the team. Of course he is going to take the most shots. Who do you want shooting the ball more: Michael Jordan or Scottie Pippen? Brandon Roy or Rudi Fernandez? King James or Daniel Gibson? Yes, he may take 50 shots a game but 25 will count. Compare that to Sasha Vujacic who may hit 15.

Finding a sports writer who isn't fat—or at least carrying a little bit of extra weight—is surprising. Here's a group of people who eat sodium-filled, fat-injected, nutrient deprived food on a regular basis so that (a smaller and smaller percentage of) Americans can open up the morning sports page. It's no wonder these guys are all biter by the age of 40. After 20 years of eating Top-Ramen, I'd hate my life too.

If a Mountain West school doesn't have an identity on the football field they are “finding themselves” and if an SEC team has the same problem they are simply “good at everything.” A lot of people point to the coaches—as if they are just better in the SEC. Or those same people say the players are just better, faster, stronger. Too bad Urban Meyer coached at Utah before he went to Florida and the level of athleticism isn't that much higher in Florida. I'm sure Utah linebacker Mike Wright can bench just as much as Florida's Ryan Stamper. He's probably just as much game-speed. And Wright has two interceptions to boot.

Guys who like bowling enough to buy their own ball and shoes are usually the same guys who get bent out of shape in a game of Scrabble or Monopoly.

People that post on message boards and fan forums are always the most emotionally unstable fans. They are the guys who claim national champs after a three-game winning streak and that the season is tanked after a bad loss. These also tend to be the same people that chant the same phrase all game long—regardless of game situation.

They are also known as Oregon Duck Fans.

Sitting Down With Sportswriter and Everyday Champ1on Nick Lilja

Nick Lilja — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 02:52:51 -0400

Nick Lilja is an experienced columnist. He has written for The Daily Barometer, Touchdown Illustrated, The Forest Grove News-Times, as well as been featured on CBSsportsline.com, ESPN.com and countless other non-reputable sites that used his columns and likeness to make money.

While strapped to a keyboard, he continually excels at writing. Outside of writing, he balances his time between his job, and his job, and his other job. He took time out of his busy schedule to answer a few questions about life in and out of the newspaper.

Nick Lilja: It's been awhile, how are things? How does it feel to be a repeat Everyday Champ1on?

Nick Lilja: Pretty good. I'm currently working two jobs and writing for another job on the side. Carpel tunnel has never felt so good. As for being a repeat winner? I could care less. It seems like everyone gets this thing now. If this award were actually special they wouldn't have given it to Oregon State golfer Alex Williams (just kiddin' buddy).

NL: So you finally landed a real job as a real newspaper reporter, how does that feel to stick it to all of the people who said you wouldn't make it?

NL: Great, I actually wrote a letter to every person who ever doubted me. Personal and hand written—the whole nine yards. I put it in an envelope. I licked the stamp. I walked it to my mail box. And tore them all to shreds. It was liberating.

NL: So you still don't like the haters?

NL: No, I love the haters. In fact, I sent a fruit basket to the guys at www.pure-orange.net. They are the only reason why I am where I am at today. I mean I would probably still be writing about how awesome Cole Gillespie was if I hadn't gotten the idea to piss them off.

It was great because I met one of them face-to-face a few weeks after a particular article and the guy took a swing at me! And missed! That had to be the funniest trip to 7-11 in my life.

NL: Are you referring to lambasting then-Oregon State Beaver quartetrback Matt Moore?

NL: No, that was way later. I'm talking about proclaiming Jonah Nickerson the best pitcher on the Oregon State baseball staff in 2006. Man people were furious. I remember the final line was something like: “Dallas Buck may be the big man on campus but the best man is Jonah Nickerson.”

Who knew talking someone up was so horrible? It turned out the guy who took a swing at me was actually Dallas Buck.

NL: So that's what made you want to be a writer? A bunch of people on a fanboi forum?

NL: Totally. I checked that website like five times a day just to see who I could piss off. And because I didn't do any real journalism. I just check for topics on that site and go straight to the newspaper. I'm pretty lazy.

NL: I'm sensing sarcasm...

NL: Me? Never. If there is one thing I never do, it is write with a sense of humor. Go google my name, I've never written anything funny.

NL: So do you like your new job?

NL: To be honest, it's great. I get paid to go to high school football games and watch kids make plays they can gloat about for the rest of their lives. I watched some kid take a screen pass 96 yards for a touchdown last week. You know he will never forget that. And he won't let his friends forget it either. Even when he's 40. Eating a pizza at Shakey's.

NL: So you have to be hating on someone these days, who is it?

NL: Bloggers who try to cross over to reporting. Man these guys piss me off.

NL: Any reason?

NL: Because I know they won't read this. Look, there is nothing worse than someone with no journalistic training trying to write a coherent article or column. There are two types of guys like this: Either they end up using a bunch of similes and metaphors and never get to the point. And by the time they do get to the point, their point sucks.

Or, they think they have the answer that no one has thought of yet. Guys post “THIS IS HOW YOU BEAT TOM BRADY!!!” and its 300 words about using the Sam Blitz. Great. I'm sure Chuck Cecil, Titans defensive coordinator, never thought of that.

Besides a column that is 300 only words is still 300 words short of making a real point.

NL: Didn't you start out without a journalistic background and wasn't your first column full of metaphors, similes and only 349 words?

NL: Next question.

NL: What do you do besides writing?

NL: I work at a stereo hifi shop. There are some good deals, but sometimes I sell stereo equipment that no one in their right mind should be buying. I sold a system to a guy the other day for $40,000. That is twice my salary. I understand spending an even grand on a good stereo but 40? I almost fell over when he said what he wanted.

NL: Last interview we asked what it was like to be a small town celebrity, has that answer changed?

NL: No. But it's nicer in the real world. Because while a lot of people think you are a piece of crap they know that you have the power to talk bad about them in the paper so they give you a little more respect.

Like just the other day I was walking out of the grocery store and someone didn't slam the door in my face. It was stupendous.

Myles Brand Left His Mark

Nick Lilja — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 02:08:17 -0400

Most people look at a university and see students. And athletes. Myles Brand saw both. To him, student athlete didn't need quotations, it needed a hyphen.

When Brand passed away of pancreatic cancer, the NCAA lost a leader. It's Superman. A man who sought to right the wrongs. Fix the system. He didn't worry about probability. Mutually exclusive wasn't in his vocabulary.

His vision had no limits. In January of 2001, he gave a speech at the National Press Club in Washington and criticized what he called an “arms race” in college sports. Brand mentioned that universities faced tough times as the weight of winning was beginning to “endanger the real mission of universities,” he said.

And he made that his mission.

When Brand took over in 2002 the NCAA was a mess. There was a lack of academic accountability, really. Every time fans turned around, another school was fighting allegations of unfair play.

From 1997 to 2000, Texas A&M Kingsville was allowed players to compete while taking a part-time class load. In the summer of 1999, Purdue was found to have “violated rules regarding recruiting, extra benefits and ethical conduct in the men's basketball program, in addition to several secondary violations in the women's basketball program,” said The Daily Pennsylvanian.

In April of 2000, a federal grand jury in Missouri handed down an 11-count indictment, which detailed payments to Corey Maggette—by NCAA rule the payments compromise Maggette's amateur status.

For Brand, he took over the Titanic right before the iceberg. Met Napolean and Michel Ney at Waterloo—before noon. Or showed up on a blind date, only to meet his sister.

But if anyone was going to succeed, it was Myles Brand.

His resume was longer than a country mile. Brand was president at Indiana—he fired Bob Knight, you know. He was the President of the University of Oregon from 1989 to 1994.

He worked as the Vice President for academic affairs at Ohio State University from 1986 to 1989, spent time at Arizona from 1981 to 1986 and was at the University of Illinois at Chicago before that. He began his career in the department of philosophy at the University of Pittsburgh in 1967. Myles Brand had been around the block.

He was just like the guy in the corner cubicle, he had worked in middle management long enough to see where the bleeding was occurring and knew how to fix it. Now he had his shot.

He didn't see the NCAA as a business, overrun at the time with corruption and greed, as a sinking ship, or a lost cause. He saw an opportunity for growth. An opportunity to teach. Just like his career began, he was going to begin with a change in philosophy.

Athletes would graduate—with a respectable GPA—and universities would be held accountable. He challenged universities and students to become scholar-athletes. He helped the NCAA adopt the Academic Progress Report and the Graduation Success Rate – to follow those statistics.

“Academics comes first,” is what he declared.

Almost a decade later, the system isn't perfect, but it is much improved. While some student-athletes are still given preferential treatment, it's not a free ride. And it's not without work.

Schools are challenged to meet higher scholastic standards. Teams now compete on the field and in the classroom, working toward a higher collaborative GPA.

Often times fans claim that Brand stopped the NCAA from establishing a playoff system for football. Or he ruined March Madness. He was a tyrant. He was arrogant.

He was the right choice.

Now that Myles Brand is gone, the NCAA is at a crossroads. Bone Thugs-n-Harmony come to mind. The committee in charge of finding his replacement will have to decide what is more important in the future—winning games or education.

Tom Brady Is Not Comeback Player of the Year Material

Nick Lilja — Thu, 21 May 2009 02:57:34 -0400

It's about that time, Ms. Amber, to take a note:

"Dear Associated Press,

"I know what you are thinking. I've been one of you before. You love 'The Man.' You love the champions, the undefeated, you love helping the rich get richer, as they say.

"You love the New England Patriots.

"I can understand why, too. The New England Patriots are an oddity, really. Here is a team in the Northeast, surrounded by limelight. Every team bigger than the last. In egos, that is. The Yankees, the Red Sox. The Jets, the Giants. The Celtics and Knicks.

"Sure, they have their humble moments, but when people think of these teams, they think of stars. Broadway Joe, The Babe, Clemens, Kevin Garnett—the list goes on forever.

"Then there are the Patriots—a living cliché, where winning isn't everything, but the only thing. And the only thing that slays the ego is a W.

"It's a place where egos go to die. Just look at Randy Moss. A team that has turned 'me' guys into 'we' guys.

"Really, Tom Brady as comeback player of the year is a misnomer; you have to see that.

"Sure, he is technically eligible, but you have to see why he can't get it, right? He is the product of a great system. A great team, really.

"I don't know how much you dabble in the sciences but in physics they say that a product cannot be greater than the sum of its parts. Two plus two cannot equal seven. But in New England, 11 plus 11 equals 97. That also happens to be the number of wins they have had since 2001.

"The Patriots are an anomaly in the world of sports. Perhaps an anomaly in the world.

"A throwback to the Yankees of the '40s and '50s. You wouldn't give Yogi Berra the comeback award in '46, would you? Maybe a Purple Heart, but not a comeback award.

"Really, A.P., there are a few credentials one must carry to be dubbed fully eligible to carry the moniker 'Comeback Player of the Year.' Your team has to suffer with you on the sidelines.

"Think about it. When Carson Palmer went down in the playoffs, his team suffered immediately and couldn't win a game—or even a quarter against the Steelers. They lost the game 31-17.

"When Shawne Merriman was sidelined for an entire season, the Chargers defense struggled mightily. The team dropped to 25th in overall team defense—down 11 spots from the year before. The team went from guarantee to question mark.

"When Tom Brady went down last year, the Patriots went from an undefeated team to an 11-and-5 team. From guarantee to promise. They were still as dependable as tomorrow. When other teams lose star players they are out of the playoff race just as fast. When the Patriots lost Tom Brady they didn't even flinch.

"Matt Cassel is a good quarterback. He wasn't a diamond in the rough. The kid can play, but there is a reason every quarterback since Drew Bledsoe looks good in a Patriots uniform.

"It's the system. It's Bill Belichick. It's the team. It breeds success, A.P.

"I know it's going to be tempting to give the award to Brady after he returns and throws 30 touchdowns and completes over 60 percent of his passes.

"But try and see the big picture. It's not about the good player that comes back to the best team. It's about the best player that transforms a group of men back into a good team.

"That's the real definition of 'The Man.'"

Objectivity—It's for the Birds

Nick Lilja — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 01:22:43 -0400

The ethical police are going to find me, cuff me, and Rodney King me. Lindsay Schnell will be on my doorstep later today ready to kick me in shin. Or slap me in the face. It’s a tough life being me. Deja Vu, you say?

Then again, staying 100-percent professionally objective isn’t that much fun, either.

If I’m lucky enough to have anything in common with Oregon State play-by-play man, Mike Parker, it’s that I too think professional objectivity isn’t as much fun.

Who came up with that phrase anyway? Professional objectivity. And who decided it was so important for college sports?

I’ve been told anything but professional objectivity isn’t ethical in the media. To be fair, it's true to an extent. A reporter shouldn't be in the press box cheering and clapping but root-root-rooting for the home team is as American as pumpkin pie and whipped cream. Or a ferris wheel with cotton candy and a cute blonde.

Besides, skirting that line of professional objectivity has landed Parker one hell of a career. I don’t see people complaining, I see people applauding. Parker has managed create his own sort of alchemy. He has turned a radio broadcast into a spectacle that people now keep on their computers and mp3 players—even I’m guilty of that.

Since he first began in 1999, Mike Parker has been a blessing to the Oregon State Beavers.

“My first football season was ’99, which also coincided with Erickson’s arrival, so after 28 straight losing seasons in football I head the shear joy of being able to call the night against Cal when the 28 years of losing were put to rout.” Parker said in a March 13th interview on The NickelBlock.

Alchemy might be his middle name. Since his arrival the Beavers have went to numerous bowl games in football, won the CBI in men’s basketball and won back-to-back national championships in baseball.

He is finishing up his ninth year calling games for the Beavers and has managed to win the Oregon Sportscaster of the Year award five times. Parker has won in ’99, ’02, back-to-back years in ’05 and ‘06 and again in '08. Because, who likes Brian Wheeler, anyway?

And he has won over the fans, too.

He is loved by everyone in Beaver Nation—even has his own Facebook fan club. Can the U of O play-by-play announcer say that? And regardless of what he thinks, people love his passion and excitement.

“I go a little too crazy I think, when I listen back sometimes, I think, man there’s a guy that’s going absolutely nuts.” Parker said

He doesn't summarize events, he uses the airwaves as a canvas. With vocabulary as his brush, rhetoric his paint and mastery of nomenclature his colors – he creates. Each phrase, each stroke, giving way to an eventual masterpiece. Shaded a bit orange.

“It’s difficult to maintain any focus or professional objectivity in moments like that, I throw it all out the window and go nuts, now it may not be the best thing as a professional, but it’s a lot of fun to cut loose like that” Parker said.

Sure, the professionally objective thing to do is sit back, collect himself, then say the breaking ball pitch fell off the outside half and it was a questionable call or the converted two-point attempt gave the Beavers the lead. But, that’s not Mike Parker.

“When Van Orsow knocked down the pass against USC…At that moment I was on top of the press box in Reser up on the table in front of me high-fiving Jim Wilson.”

Some people in the Pac-10 media might not agree with his philosophy. Some might think he is unethical, not objective enough or just plain crazy. Others, like Beaver fans all over know that professional objectivity isn’t significant because it’s just the American side of Parker coming out. Root-root-rooting for his home team.

“Those games have just been awesome to be apart of, I still get chills thinking about them.”

So do we, Mike.

John Madden's Success Starts New Chapter

Nick Lilja — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 23:43:02 -0400

They say success breeds success. The more you do well, the better you do. Olympic volleyball coach Taras Liskevych once told me that.

I think he was talking about John Madden.

See, to John, football wasn't a weekend job, it wasn't a career, it was a way of life—and as cliché as it sounds—a great life. A life that allowed him to become the winningest coach of all time. It's a life that gave him the opportunity to change the way people understood football.

Because, when you think NFL, you think John Madden. People who can't differentiate Brett Favre from Michael Vick, know Madden's voice. He broke down the game so that the average fan walking by a TV set could understand.

John wasn't a man, he was a wish: Pete Rozelle's wish.

He got his degree in education and it was most evident when he turned late draft picks into stars or couch potatoes into experts. But that all came to an end today.

What I'm trying to say is, John Madden is retiring.

As a coach, John Madden often credits Don Coryell for his success. See, Madden coached along side Coryell prior to the “Air Coryell” days. It was 1963—the same year the NFL Hall of Fame opened it's doors.

It was before Coryell recorded three undefeated seasons with San Diego State in 1966, '68 and '69. But John learned a lot from Coryell. Mainly how to win—a lot.

When Madden broke in the AFL in 1967 it was with the Oakland Raiders and Al Davis (yes, the same Al Davis) couldn't fathom the gold he had discovered. Two years later, Madden was the head coach. While he was criticized as being a coach who couldn't win the big game, as he only brought home one Lombardi Trophy, he did win.

Madden's overall winning percentage—including the playoffs is first in NFL history. He never had a losing season as a head coach and became the youngest coach win 100 regular season game. He did that in 10 years when the seasons were 14 games long.

Madden couldn't lose.

When he made the transition to the broadcast booth his winning streak continued. He could do no wrong. After two years of working with CBS he was asked to work with Pat Summerall. It was like watching Gene Kelly and Donald O'Conner. They were the perfect pair. Sumemrall had the voice and Madden the charisma.

Before John Madden the guys in the booth had no pizazz. No charisma. Madden brought new life to the booth and engaged the audience. He changed the landscape of football on television. Without him there would be no replays, no telestrator.

He has 14 Sports Emmy Awards, has given commentary during 10 Super Bowls, and even held a streak of 476 consecutive weekends having been in a booth. He is the Cal Ripken of sports commentary.

And now, he is moving on. It's a sad day for football fans. Truly, a Sunday with no Madden is like a sunrise with no birds or a picnic with no blanket. It can happen, but it isn't too pleasant.

Of course, he will live on inside every Play Station and Xbox. Because during that same time Madden was building his television resume he created, quite possibly, the biggest and most successful digital franchise in the world—his video game.

John Madden Football, later changed to just Madden is the staple of any video game system and has given birth to a cult following that view the second weekend in August as the “New Year.”

Well, it's a “New Life” for Madden. One he has earned after 60-plus years changing the way football players play football. If it is anything like the last, he will be equally as successful. Only, they say, a successful retirement is a relaxing one.

And it is well deserved for John.

Green and Bold: A Few Duck Fans Have Their Own Story

Nick Lilja — Sun, 30 Nov 2008 15:00:37 -0500

Most Oregon Ducks fans aren't speaking up.

Most Oregon Ducks fans spent the pregame walking around the parking lot of Reser Stadium in groups. No one traveled alone. Most Oregon Ducks fans kept a low profile.

It's funny. The Oregon–Oregon State rivalry is about the friendliest in the country—yet, even though friends and family share drinks and stories before the game, the visiting fans still seem to walk around looking over their shoulders.

“No comment,” was about as far as most would go when asked about the game. About a dozen attempted interviews later, one group of Duck fans didn't mind making a statement.

In more than one way.

One Beaver fan pointed them out, “Did you see that one van, with the huge duck?”

That one van was home to a couple of Duck fans that were happy to be at another game.

“We've been coming to Civil War games for about 15 years,” Steve Cartales said. “Right, Eddie?”

Eddie nodded.

“I'd say our favorite game was three years ago,” Cartales said. “[During the game] the fog came in and Jonathan Stewart had a huge game. And of course, the Ducks won.”

The group had a van that was parked on the Southwest side of Reser Stadium. In a parking lot full of Oregon State students, alumni, and fans, they stood out like a sore thumb. They wouldn't reveal how they got such a great space, but they were getting some looks.

For good reason—the van was dark green with a yellow interior, and featured a giant blowup Duck replica set on the top. With flags flying, to boot.

They were a brave group. They were a green oasis in a sea of Orange. It wasn't a tailgater it was like a throwback to the flaggers of the Conforsols. They weren't fans—they were targets.

It's a dangerous job, but someone has to do it.

They huddled around a green van covered in Duck paraphernalia, every inch dressed in green and yellow. From duck magnets on the hood to bright yellow seat covers—for all of the seats in the 12-passenger van.

“Our company owns the van,” Cartales said. “We use it to shuttle workers from job site to job site during the week. But in the fall, we decided, 'Well it's the right colors, we're all Duck fans, why not turn it into something that we could use on Saturdays?'”

The van isn’t a fixed vehicle, though. It gets upgrades every year.

“We add new stuff every year,” Cartales said. “The grill, the sound system, the flagpoles—every year it's something new.”

They aren't done, though. They're almost a mirror image of the team they love, flashy and proud.

“Next year we're talking about new artwork on the back, and some AstroTurf.”

And everyone is invited.

“I have friends on both sides. We're a friendly group. We don't discriminate,” Cartales said. “Before the game and after the game.”

Although they are in un-friendly territory, there isn’t any bad blood. Sure, the occasional “Ducks Suck” will be shouted, but it’s all in good fun.

As Cartales said, “At the end of the day, it’s just a game. We’re here to have fun and enjoy each other’s company.”

Oregon-Oregon State: The Civil War Recap

Nick Lilja — Sun, 30 Nov 2008 14:45:18 -0500

It was a warm November day to remember.

It was a game that the Oregon State Beavers neded to win in order to advance to the Rose Bowl.

It was a game that was the end to an amazing and historic year.

On the balmy 62-degree night, history was made, again, in the Civil War series between Oregon and Oregon State. It was the highest scoring game in the 112-game history.

It wasn't all roses for the Beavers, as the Oregon Ducks snapped the Oregon State's six-game win streak and won, 65-38. It was the second year in a row the visiting team has won the match-up.

“It hurts,” Oregon State quarterback, Lyle Moevao said. “To be able to play through the games that we've been through, and come through a long stretch like this and not top it off, it hurts.”

It was Senior Night for Oregon State at Reser Stadium. Beaver fan favorite Sammie Stroughter came out to hugs from teammates, coaches, and a roar from the crowd. He came out jumping and waving his arms around. The floor in the press box was shaking.

But the other story was of the missing Oregon State freshman phenom, Jacquizz Rodgers, who was out with a shoulder injury.

The lack of Rodgers hurt the Beavers running attack. When asked what it would have meant to have Jacquizz in the lineup Head Coach Mike Riley's response was: “I don't even want to guess what that means.”

Without Jacquizz, the Beaver running attack was hushed and Oregon State relied on the passing attack.

“They did a pretty good job containing our running game,” Moevao said.

Moevao ended the game 27-for-51 for 374 yards and five touchdowns—a career high. He also had two interceptions.

It wasn't the lack of offense that foiled the Beavers' Rose Bowl aspirations, but the big plays the Ducks gained.

“They made a lot of huge plays,” Riley said. “Everybody knows that the biggest factor in the game was the number of big plays.” And the Oregon offense found ways to make big plays, repeatedly.

“To go out and ruin somebody's dream like that, it feels real good,” Oregon wide receiver Jaison Williams said.

Williams finished the game with one catch for 35 yards.

The Oregon running game had a solid evening. The Ducks managed to gain over 300 yards on the ground and had two running backs in triple digits.

“Coming in we had a good game plan,” Oregon State defensive end said. “Our coaches did a great job preparing us. The responsibility goes to the players, we didn't make the plays we needed to make.”

The scoring started early when Oregon tight end Jeff Maehl caught a 17-yard touchdown reception. The Ducks followed that with a 38-yard field goal.

The Beavers answered with a touchdown on a Jeremy Francias screen. He broke a pair of tackles and fell into the endzone. However, Oregon came right back with a LaGarrette Blount 9-yard touchdown scamper.

Two possession later, after another Duck field goal, Jeremiah Johnson broke away for an 83-yard run for a touchdown. The Ducks never looked back.

“We knew Oregon was a great team,” Norris said. “We didn't play the game we wanted to play.”

Oregon Sate safety Greg Laybourn had another reason: “Tackling.”

“We knew coming in, the times that they have been successful they had gotten people out in space,” Laybourn said. “And they make you miss.”

The Beavers' season isn't lost, though. The team will still have a chance to play in the Sun Bowl in El Paso.

“It's terribly disappointing, but I'm proud of our team,” Mike Riley said. “We'll live to play another game.”

“Which is good.”

Nobody Asked Me But...

Nick Lilja — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 19:28:15 -0500

The late Jim Murray once paid homage to Jimmy Cannon by writing his own version of Cannon’s “Nobody asked me but…” column back in 1992. Murray claimed he was no Jimmy Cannon, but wanted to pay his respects. I won't scream that I’m even in the same universe as Jim Murray, but I too think that this must live on, somewhere.

Accordingly, I’m going to resurrect this great gimmick, in honor of both Cannon and Murray. Murray, today, is better than anyone I’ve ever read.

So, nobody asked me, really, but…

Columnists that copy other columnist idea’s are lazy.
Giving Mike Parker a mic is like giving Monet a brush. Or Einstein a calculator.
Women’s sports are underrated in general. They work twice as hard and reap half the benefits.
Rap is no longer a genre of music. With all of the stupid dances, now it’s simply a collection of beats and one-liners that football players copy in the end zone.
Meanwhile, hip hop is alive and Lupe Fiasco is the best lyricists in the game.
On that note, “Hip Hop Saved my Life.” As did Lindsay Schnell.
Daylight Savings Time is ridiculous. As is driving home from work in the dark.
I might owe my future career to Former Olympic volleyball coach Taras Liskevych.
Sports are beautiful. People who don’t “like” sports should quit—at life.
Girls that wear Ugg boots, jeans, and huge sunglasses at any sporting event look ridiculous. I don’t care if it’s trendy.
Girls in jerseys are always attractive, regardless of time or place.
To the guy who was wearing the shirt that read: “Gay people are retarded.” Wow. And not in a good way.
When I said Oregon State quarterback Lyle Moevao was the better choice under center, people should have listened.
Women like watching sports for the same reason men like driving sports cars. It attracts the opposite sex.
Everyone should touch the Heisman Trophy at least once.
The Titanic is a great metaphor for the original blackout event. You fill in the blanks.
Eventually—If he sticks to his guns—Casey Grogan is going to be the best baseball writer in the country. Write that down.
Fans in jumpsuits look awkward. The only time it is okay to wear a jumpsuit is in prison or to a Raider game—which is pretty much the same thing.
Mascots were way better five years ago.
Real, old-school, sports journalism is dead. In 15 years, all of the old-school sports journalists will be, too. People who aren’t worried about that, worry me.
The Civil War football game with no fog and rain is like Malibu without sunshine and attractive women or the Packers without Brett Favre.
I think that Oregon State women’s basketball coach LaVonda Wagner could beat the hell out of me. And you. And our friends. All at once.
Athletes that try and rap rarely succeed.
To that note, if someone would have told me four years ago that “O-State Ballers” would be playing on ESPN, I would have laughed in his face. Of course, I probably did and don’t remember it.
Tailgating before football games should be mandatory. People who just show up to games don’t know how to cheer correctly.
The idea for “Title Defended” is the worst slogan anyone could have come up with for the Beaver baseball back-to-back national championships.
When players complain about having it rough I wish I could give them Orel Hershiser’s number.
College golf teams go unrecognized. Literally, no one knows who they are. Name one college golfer.
Sending a columnist threatening letters only gives him ammunition, an M.O., and a reason to not quit. So keep them coming.
I’d better get out of here before I make everybody mad.

The 'Quizz Named Rodgers

Nick Lilja — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 15:13:28 -0500

If you see Oregon State running back Jacquizz Rodgers on the streets, take a picture. Chances are you won’t get the opportunity to see him stand still for very much longer.

He is shiftier than the eyes of a thief. He’s got faster moves than the guys at Delta Chi.

It’s the adage: “Catch me if you can.”

And no one can. Analysts talk about player having a second gear—that’s where ‘Quizz starts.

He gained 8,246 rushing yards in his high school career and scored 135 touchdowns in only three years as a varsity player—a Texas state record. In his senior season, he led his team to the state championship.

He was as good as a date with the Prom queen.

His transition to the college game was as easy as summer breeze. Three days into fall camp his play had done the talking—it was his job.

In his first game against Stanford, he ran for 54 yards on 14 carries. Since then, he has averaged 131 yards per game on about 27 carries.

Teams have been left cross-eyed and queasy, pondering the jingle to the Pepto Bismol commercial. Nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, Jacquizz Rodgers! And defensive linemen were leading the entire defense in the goofy dance that accompanies it.

Linebackers all over the Pac-10 have spent the season yelling, trying to figure out if he had cut left or right. They look over both shoulders at once.

That’s when Rodgers piles right over the top of one of them and pushes to the end zone. He’s been there 11 times this season.

The kid has strength. He’s pushed piles four and five yards after two-stepping defenders for a 15-yard scamper.

The TV analysts show that ‘Quizz has grown two inches and gained 30 pounds since fall camp, but I’m not buying it.

He is still 5’6” and 170 pounds. His low center of gravity helps, but really, he is just that good. If he were in the XFL, his jersey would read, “Can’t Catch He.”

When defenses face Rodgers, they can’t do anything fast enough. Read the offensive line, gauge the pulling guard—they fail at both. The player's IQ drops at the snap of the ball. Ask them to read a limerick and they’d faint. Tell them to divide by one and they’d go comatose.

It would take them an hour to cook minute rice. Or two hours to watch "60 Minutes."

By the look of it, they call plays by use of Mad Libs. “Okay guys ‘2-deep, rover blitz, (Noun) under’”

“Tree.”

“Toothbrush.”

“Volkswagen.”

The Beaver offensive linemen don’t mind. The strongest players on the team have spent all season knocking the opposition off its heels—and onto its back.

If offensive line coach Mike Cavanaugh ever stopped working long enough to accept awards—he’d have them all.

The guys in the trenches have opened up holes wide enough to fit the entire Oregon State Band through. Let alone one guy about the same size as a trumpet player.

In other words, the linemen ate their “Wheaties” that morning. Or “Huskies” if you’re Lou Gerhig. Google that.

The offensive line has helped Rodgers to 1233 yards on 255 carries. That’s a balmy 4.8 yards per carry. He's projected to finish with 1480 yards—120 better than Yvenson Bernard's best season. About the same as Michigan's Mike Hart in his Freshman season.

When ‘Quizz runs for over 100 yards, the Beavers are 6-1. Maybe that's why the fans smell roses. The only loss was on a last second field goal to Utah.

There have been times this season when quarterbacks Lyle Moevao and Sean Canfield have handed the ball off and turned around just to see how big the hole was opened. That and to watch how fast Rodgers would make it to the second and third level of the defense.

The third level—that’s where ‘Quizz belongs. He stands one step above the second tier, for sure. That is, if he ever still long enough to stay there.

NCAA Athletics: We Need a Catalyst to Spark Another Power Shift

Nick Lilja — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 19:08:46 -0500

Median said it best.

“We need a catalyst to spark another power shift.”

It used to be that school was about an education. Have money? Pay some now for schooling and make more after you get a degree. You get in, get out and get on with life. Want to play a sport? Great. That’s a perfect way to live a healthy lifestyle.

Then slowly it turned from strictly the rich and privileged getting an education to people who were perhaps more gifted on the field of play. Great. Another win-win. Use your skills on the field to get an education and better yourself for the rest of your life.

In the last 15 or 20 years it has changed to, what EPMD would call, Strictly Business. And much like the rest of America that business is stricken with slime balls. Have skills? Want to get paid? Here’s a quick solution: Go to school and hone your skills, and get a chance to play professional sports. Oh, and get a degree as well.

“Is it the puppet or the puppeteer?”

If someone dangled the opportunity for cash in front of my face I’d take it. And get an education, they say? Shoot, sign me up. I don’t blame the athletes, it’s not their fault. The greed and corruption of America as a whole has led us to this. Shady boosters, slick-haired agents, maybe even a sideways recruiter or two are all responsible. It’s the greed that kills, though. It breeds delusions of grandeur.

Recently, I read an interview with Shane Battier in a Maxim Magazine from 1999—don’t ask. Battier, a former NCAA athlete, who went pro, brought up an interesting point about paying student athletes. He didn’t complain about practice at 5:30 AM, he didn’t say it was impossible to be an athlete and have a steady job and he didn’t whine and complain about the situation like a lot of the “arguments” that are brought forward.

His problem was with revenue. The NCAA makes so much money, most of the money from March Madness, why couldn’t the players get involved in revenue sharing? They play the games that bring the fans and those fans pay the money. Why don’t they get a cut? And he is right, for the wrong reason.

Getting an education isn’t a business. School, for everyone, is business move. Like the old saying goes, you must spend money to make money.

That doesn’t mean paying athletes is out of the question. But, it’s a slippery slope in the NCAA. The athletics department at every NCAA school is a business, no doubt. The only one I know where the product they supply is the only portion of the company that doesn’t cost anything.

Their product is free to produce. But the product, the end result, what fans exchange their money for is the players on the court who do not cost the athletic department money.

It’s changed the game because without the players the coaches couldn’t function in this. And it’s true. Without The Tarver Brothers there is no Jay John or Kevin Mouton or whoever they hire in April. Without Mario Chalmers there are no sold out games at Kansas. Without the long line of failed quarterback in the NFL there would be no Jeff Tedford.

Coaches, recruiters, facilities, and scholarships are now apart of the equation. The athletics department pays for tuition. Pays for books. Pays for transportation to and from away games and the per diem. Hope you can eat lunch on eight bucks.

But all of that doesn’t equate to money in their pockets. That doesn’t help pay the bills. Unless they are on a full ride in which case they get a check every month, from what I’ve been told, up to 900 dollars at certain Division-I schools.

So, really, they do get a cut. They get a cheaper education, heck, maybe even a free one. But student athletes that are not on scholarship have to pay for the same bills, the same tuition and the same books. Chances are that they are not the ones that will be going pro. Chances are they are the ones that are here for an education. Only they have to pay, not the school, not the NCAA, and most certainly not Myles Brand.

This is where a solution should be born. If the NCAA isn’t the flowers and sunshine it used to be. It’s a cold hearted business. The truth is there are two types of student athletes. The one’s whose priority falls on getting an education first and “going pro” second and the reverse.

If the NCAA interested in being beneficial to all student athletes then, just like in the real world, there should be a choice. Do you want to get paid, have your school paid for or get nothing?

For the student athletes that want the degree and are in school for an education first, keep the same program that is currently standing and tweak it. For every athlete that competes in at least one contest/meet/game/match during a season allow the NCAA and the schools athletic departments pay for full tuition for that year. Pay for tutors. Pay for books.

Pay for everything that is involved with the education of the student for up to four years. Include travel expenses and per diem on road trips like currently offered. Have it work like FAFSA, if they don’t compete in one contest by the end of the year, they have to start to pay that money back.

For those student athletes more worried about bills and less about an education they would be paid a different way. They get paid a stipend percentage of some revenue sharing pot decided by the NCAA and the schools athletics department. The pot would be made up of the money made by the NCAA from television contracts as well as individual ticket sales from the individual universities and the money saved from changing the current system.

The stipend would be less than a scholarship, won’t pay directly for school, and won’t pay directly for any school related materials but will cater to those athletes not worried about their education. They have bills and rent. If they are truly going to “go pro” then paying back the student loans they obtain for two or three years will be no issue.

As for the last group, the athletes who choose to receive “nothing,” Provide a bonus every time they compete. Much like a normal job offers overtime. This bonus could come from the stipend fund and have a finite amount of money available to each team.

The NCAA is a business and should look at itself as such.

“This is a catalyst to spark another power shift.”

It would give the power back to the student athletes that make the money. The NCAA needs to be fair to the people that earn it so much money. Giving them a small portion of the NCAA’s $564 million won’t hurt.

But it might tingle a bit, and that’s a good thing.

I've Got My Christmas List Ready

Nick Lilja — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 06:09:29 -0500

Christmas lists are always tricky. What to ask for? I tend to ask for nothing but a smile and a “Merry Christmas” from friends and family. I’ve never been one to need anything material. Love and respect are my favorite gifts. Top them off with a sincere “how’s your day?” and it’ll be a good day.

But there are a few things I have been inkling for during the past few years and I just want to let them out and give everyone a while to get them ready for me.

I want to watch an athlete who makes a big play to not point at the sky, kiss his Cross or make any kind of religious motion. I believe religion should be private, call me old fashioned if you must. But I hope that your God was busy with war, disease and famine and not helping you sack a quarterback in a preseason game.

I want to have a baseball brawl in early May between two .500 teams. Then later that year have one win the pennant and point to that brawl as the solidifying moment of the season. I also want a pitcher to be ejected for fighting dirty.

I want Oregon State basketball to win 20 games three years in a row again. I also want to see all of those players stay all four years and graduate with a degree in something other than speech communication and basket weaving. I know that’s asking for a lot from coach Craig Robinson but I bet I’m not alone—and I bet he can do it.

I want to call play-by-play for a college baseball game from a college baseball stadium. Trust me, it’s a lot to ask for.

I want LaVonda Wagner to teach me how to intimidate the opposition without saying a word. She can walk into a room, command attention and incite panic. She is a very pleasant woman but I couldn’t name one person on campus that would want to meet her in an alley.

I want Goss Stadium to stay the same as it is, right now, regardless of how many championships the Beavers win, or fans they have at games. It’s the perfect size for Corvallis.

I want there to be equal attention in the media for male and female athletes, everywhere, regardless of sport. Glorifying a guy for hitting a grand slam is easy. But when a female athlete from Oregon State that makes it to the Olympics, that story writes itself.

I want the college baseball season to be shorter. Giving ball players degrees from accredited universities is ludicrous with the amount of time they spend in a class room from January to June. Giving each team a 40-game season cap won’t hurt anyone—except the athletic departments.

I want to same rule to apply to softball.

I want CBS to cover the NCAA March Madness Tournament without cutting to commercial every timeout. And if not, do away with commentators. It’s useless to have commentators if there is no commentary.

I want everyone to read an old book about sports. Something from the 30s and 40s. It would give everyone a bit of perspective.

Good luck fulfilling my wish list. You have about seven weeks to get the wheels in motion.

Andre Johnson Is a Quark, Strangely

Nick Lilja — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 21:46:40 -0500

Andre Johnson is an anomaly. A singular quark, really. Scientists don’t know what to make of him. Is he real? What flavor is he?

They think he’s Strange.

For Johnson, slowing down isn’t an option. He rarely slows down enough for the quarterback to find him—let alone defenders. He moves through zone defenses as easy as Jerry Rice. Or a German army.

At 6’3” and 223 pounds, Andre Johnson is the prototypical wide receiver. He has size, strength, and speed. He has soft hands and the most body control this side of Marvin Harrison. He’s a possession receiver trapped in a track-star’s body. Truly, his skills are as unstoppable as tomorrow.

He wasn’t born, he was wished.

To watch him play is to watch a painter transform a canvas into a masterpiece. He takes the dull and plain and makes it spectacular. A quick-slant is a 25-yard gain. A five-yard out is a 50-yard touchdown.

He’s a solar eclipse; you can’t look directly at him. Your parents tell you he’ll burn your eyes out. Maybe that’s why defenders can’t see him.

At Miami, he was MVP of the 2001 National Championship game. He caught 92 passes for 1,831 yards and 20 touchdowns in his career—good for fifth on the University of Miami's all-time career list.

But he also ran track. In 2002, he won the Big East Indoor Championship 60-meter dash in 6.83 seconds. Most people can’t yawn that fast. He also won the Big East Outdoor Championships 100-meter dash in 10.29 seconds. He won three track championships and in 2003 was the fastest man in Division-I track and field.

As Jim Murray once wrote, he could get open in a swamp.

Without Johnson, The Texans are a no-horse wagon on offense. Matt Schaub isn’t going to find Andre Davis in the corner of the end zone—he’d be covered. Even running back Steve Slaton would be ineffective on the inside without Johnson on the outside grabbing the safety’s attention.

Johnson is a star. He pulls at safeties. They can’t help but gravitate to his side of the field.

Then, on the snap of the ball, he is gone. He disappears into the wind only to materialize under the pass. The quarterback doesn’t even look for Johnson when he throws. He just guesses where Johnson might be. Not that it matters, he can catch up to any overthrow.

Johnson has wound up under the ball 60 times this season, good enough for second in the NFL. His 834 yards receiving has the Packers’ Greg Jennings beat by 80 yards. He leads the NFL with 104 reception yards per game and first downs achieved with 44.

He’s a one-man aerial assault.

He has more first-downs than Reggie Wayne has receptions. He was one catch away from being the first receiver in NFL history to catch more than 10 passes in four consecutive games.

Between the 20s, he’s such a threat that the Surgeon General should put a sticker on his helmet. He’s caught 40 balls from 655 yards. An average of five receptions for 80-yards per game. He’s like second-hand smoke. Defenders simply hold their breath and pray.

Of the 10 balls he’s caught inside the opposition’s 20, three have went for scores, six others for first downs.

Johnson can’t be single covered. Defenses should change the term man-coverage to men-coverage. Two players on Johnson—at least. A third for good measure. As it is, they run around looking over both shoulders at once with eyes like dinner plates. It can’t be healthy.

The old adage is, “You can’t catch what you can’t see.” And it explains a lot. Strange quark or not, Johnson can catch and defenders can’t see.

The Incredible Shrinking Football Field

Nick Lilja — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 19:07:57 -0500

In football, every inch matters.

Coaches know it, players know it, fans know it. Ever watched a center move the football up a few centimeters before the snap? Okay, maybe you've never noticed, but I bet you have. Ever watched a running back dig deep and battle two linebackers for an extra few blades of grass? I guarantee it.

Between the lines and between the whistles, everything is under the microscope. Every inch looks bigger. Every foot seems like a mile.

Outside the stadium, an inch is an inch. Go ahead, find a tape measure. Grab any ruler. They’ll match. An inch on a desk is as big as an inch on the floor. No change.

On the football field, however, an inch may as well be a mile when a wide receiver is stretching to keep two feet down. An inch could be a parsec on the goal line. Ever try to cross a parsec in one shot? Heck, even with four tries?

Architects, though, may have missed that memo. They were too busy with significant figures. Athletic directors may have stopped paying attention. They’re trying to manage millions of dollars.

Two instances this past weekend could cost a few people a lot of money. Two instances of players ending up out of bounds on a routine play ended up with one boy in tears and a player on a stretcher. Perhaps even ending his career.

Inches mean a lot to those two.

Patrick Edwards, a Houston wide receiver, ended up with a compound leg fracture after a routine “streak” pattern ran him out of the back of the end zone and into a cart parked no more than five yards away from the field of play.

Play over. Season over. Career over, perhaps.

He needed a rod inserted into his lower right leg during surgery, Houston associate athletic director Chris Burkhalter told the Associated Press. Edwards, a redshirt freshman, was the team's leading receiver with 634 yards on 46 catches.

The carts were a part of the band's halftime performance and were left on the sidelines. Bob Marcum told the AP, “The carts, used by Marshall's band, will be relocated at future games.”

Good. Now figure out who was responsible—and fire them. There is no room for ignorance on a football field. There is barely any room in general anymore.

In the Cincinnati game, a receiver attempting to make a diving grab in the end zone ended up in the stands and mowed over a few crowd members, including a young boy. The player attempted to console the boy before returning to the huddle, but it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

ESPN's Erin Andrews interviewed the kid and he didn’t look like a deer in the headlights—but, then again, the truck had already hit him. The boy was shaken up a bit, but it could have been worse.

Both cases are examples of the epidemic of shrinking sidelines.

Call the two plays “freak accidents” but, in light of the past few games, the NCAA should take a close look at football stadiums around the country and investigate different ways to keep the players safe outside the lines and the fans safe in the stands.

It seems every year the playing field is getting smaller. Sure, the field is still 160 feet wide and 360 feet long, but the space available to players isn’t the same. Just look at University of Oregon’s Autzen Stadium. The stands come so close to the field of play the walls are padded for the players' safety.

I’ve walked the sidelines of Autzen during a game—you get to know your neighbor.

Add to that more live media coverage and, as FSN’s Todd Mansfield would say, “all of the sudden,” players have less room than a real plot in an episode of Family Guy.

Meanwhile, they need every inch.

Hardly Difficult: I Should Have Been a Golfer

Nick Lilja — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 18:17:17 -0400

This is an oldie, but given the change of season, needed to be brought out of retirement because I knew it was going to rain today. My ankle told me. My knees agreed.

Athletics will do that to a person. Athletes with reconstructed knees, ankles, wrists and elbows know. They felt it too. The aches and pains don’t go away, people just eventually learn how to manipulate them. Achey back? It’s going to rain tomorrow. Sore elbow? Rainy weather is on its way.

That’s why I should been a golfer. It’s not that golfing isn’t difficult, but with golf you don’t end up with joints that think they are meteorologists.

Golf is easy on the body and hard on the mind. I wish my parents had bought me a set a clubs, not a pair of running shoes or a basketball. Golf is a game played at a walk. Not even at a light jog for these guys. Speed up? Good luck. Your partner is looking at a downhill lie on the edge of the green. You shouldn’t even be moving. Let alone, breathing heavily.

In baseball players earn the right to walk by working the count. Basketball players walk but only at the end of the game when they have the lead. Football players rarely walk. Water break? Jog is out. Hit the showers? Jog it out. They even jog to the line of scrimmage before every play.

Runners hate walking. Walking is criminal. Walking to a runner is like running to a golfer. Tell any golfer to run on a course and they will look at you like a cow looks at an oncoming train. Ask any runner to walk and they will leave you in the dust.

Golf is a game for gentlemen often played by guys who get too caught up in perfection. Gymnasts without the muscle. A guy who had a “terrible day” ended five or six over. And they’ll blame the wind. If any run-of-the-mill golfer went out and shot six over on 18, they’d buy a round in the clubhouse.

“Rough” doesn’t describe scabs or the nickname of an opponent but grass that’s mowed down like a front yard instead of Astroturf. While football players hate flags, golfers aim for them.

There is no bleeding in golf unless you pop a blister or get stung by a bee. Golfers don’t need medical attention between holes. Broken wrists and torn ACL’s aren’t common or even rare. No golfer has ever been carried off the course on a stretcher because he didn’t see an opponent coming or changed direction to quick. There are no Willis McGahee’s in Golf.

Golf has no defense except for a lake and a beach with a tree. Some people call that vacation. The entire campus wouldn’t mind spending an afternoon there – especially with this weather. But golfers spend their time avoiding them, deeming them “hazards,” how good are their lives? If you asked a random passer-by on the street if they try to avoid a lake and a beach, they’d look at you like you were crazy.

But golf is taxing on the mind. You’ve never met a more confused individual than a golfer at 300 yards from the pin facing a stiff breeze with a water hazard. You might as well ask them to prove Bernoulli’s principle. Or divide by pi.

As Robin Williams once said, they call it stroke for a reason, “Because every time you miss, you feel like you’re going to f—ing die”

Most people feel like they are going to die after a long day at work or a long night on Broadway. Golfers do this for fun, every week. And they don’t do it just once, but for an entire weekend.

Most people get tired of golfing after nine holes. They’ve had enough. If their 3-wood isn’t slicing like a pizza place, it’s hooking. Their 7-iron has spent the last two hours scalping the ball of its dots. And their putter – they don’t want to talk about it. If they knew that no one was looking on the 7th green, they would have picked the ball up and thrown it into the hole.

But, golfers just take it all in stride.

So, even though the last time a golfer collapsed on the field of competition it was John Daly from eating too many ribs, don’t get it twisted. They aren’t Vince Young, but that doesn’t mean they don’t take a beating.

Besides, could you go into the wind, at a dog-leg, 280 yards from a green that slopes away without losing two balls and decapitating a grove of bushes? Don’t forget that beach to the left and a lake to the right. They’re hazardous.

Oregon State's Dick Foxal Retires

Nick Lilja — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 17:40:14 -0400

Foxal is having his retirement ceremony after 38 years of coaching and probably won't raise a toast. His gymnasts, past and present, will be too busy doing it for him. See, Dick is a man facing the sunset of his career—and he doesn’t fit into his own silhouette.

Oregon State gymnasts will tell you stories you may not believe, because they aren’t sure they do either. He’s worked for Boeing and has taught in the Southeast. But he was always pulled back into the gym.

He was a coach.

He was bigger than life. Part coach, part mentor. Always entertaining and always teaching.

“He will be missed in the gym,” senior D’Anna Piro said. “He was a very influential person. He gave us a lot of a purpose when we worked out. What you learn from Dick goes further than just gymnastics—you learn a life lesson almost everyday."

There had been whispers about his retirement for quite some time now. He has been coaching for 38 years, people weren’t sure if he knew how to stop. It’s still so surreal to the gymnasts.

“Nobody wants him to go,” 2008 graduate Keegan Fitzgerald said. “He is the most patient man; he is so knowledgeable about gymnastics.”

Foxal has been a key component to the successes for Oregon State. In his 21 seasons with the Beavers, he has helped guide the team to 13 NCAA Championships—including the last three seasons. He is also responsible for 10 top 10 finishes since he walked into Corvallis and helped the team finish fourth in 1996.

“It was nice to have someone who has been around gymnastics for a while,” junior gymnast Laura-Ann Chong said. “He knows a lot of different techniques.”

He is regarded by the gymnasts as an amazing man, and they are fortunate to have known him.

“He’s been a wonderful coach and he has been very inspiring,” senior Kera Bolen said. “He was one of the best bar coaches I’ve ever worked with.”

Foxal feels the exact same way toward the women he coached. He told osubeavers.com that he has had a great career.

“I’m a lucky man to have been involved in gymnastics for so many years. This has been a very rich experience,” Foxal said. “I’m very fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with such amazing young women during the course of my career at Oregon State.

"A lot has changed at OSU over the last two decades in the sport of gymnastics and at this university. I am very proud to have been part of such an enormous transformation with the gymnastics program as well as for the athletic department.”

The Beaver gymnasts know it won’t be the same in the gym. Foxal was known as a bit of a prankster at times.

“He’d play this game, where he would hide your water bottle,” Chong said. “You’d turn around to take a drink and it would be gone. Dick would be over somewhere chuckling and smiling”

“I’ll miss his stories,” Bolen said. “Sometimes you don’t know if he is telling the truth. You think, they are probably true, but they are so far out there. Ones where he almost dies. But you can never tell.”

“He has this pet mouse named Charlie,” Piro said. “Which is really a stuffed mouse—that he keeps in his pocket—to surprise the freshman.”

Since his first day in 1987, he has been sharing wild stories and building some as well. Oregon State gymnasts have won four individual titles and earned 59 All-America honors—including 11 on the uneven bars, his primary area of coaching.

“He has this flip book,” Piro said. “He’ll show it to you as a freshman. It’s full of routines and skills that he wants you to do. Some of them are crazy and you’ll be like ‘are you serious?’”

Starting Sept. 1, Foxal will be out of the gym, but not out of the program. He will continue to be associated with Oregon State gymnastics outside of the gym. His new position, Gymnastics Project Coordinator, includes administering camps, clinics, and event set-up.

Bolen will miss Foxal, but says, she will be okay.

“It will be different without him,” she said. “But I can still hear the corrections he would make.”

He has coached four gymnasts who have scored a total of eight 10.0’s on bars, with the most recent coming in 2003 when Elizabeth Jillson was perfect in winning the Pac-10 Conference bars title. Jillson’s conference title marked the fifth gymnast and seventh total Pac-10 title on the event under his guidance.

“Dick has been a wonderful asset to OSU gymnastics for a long time,” Head Coach Tanya Chaplin said. “The student-athletes love working for and working with him, and his presence in the gym will be greatly missed.”

Foxal has earned West Regional Assistant Coach of the Year honors five times, including this past season when he helped freshman Jen Kesler to become a second team All-American in her first season of collegiate gymnastics.

“Watching him move on is hard,” Piro said. “And it might be hard for him, gymnastics was his life. But its time.”

Prior to his arrival in Corvallis, Foxal was the head coach at Montana State from 1984 until the program was discontinued in 1987. He was selected as the Mountain West Athletic Conference Coach of the Year in 1985. He was also the men’s head coach at Central Washington and the University of Washington.

“He’s the greatest,” Fitzgerald said. “He cares about us as people, not just gymnasts.”

The 25 Rumors I Wish I Could Start

Nick Lilja — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 10:41:43 -0400

While I cross formats into the online realm, I feel the need to bring something with me. Horrid grammar aside, I hate lists. Well I should be a little more specific, I hate that I write lists. People love lists. People need to compartmentalize. I don’t stop them, in fact, I encourage them—and it pains me.

But I started this list about two years ago and have kept it going in memory of my close and personal friend, Colt Murray.

So, the 25 rumors, I wish I could start are…

Carolina Panther quarterback, Matt Moore, once offered to buy me a beer saying, “it’s all water under the bridge.”
Presidential hopefuls John McCain and Barack Obama are both die-hard Cincinnati Bengals fans.
Bob Knight has signed a contract to return to coaching. He will be the new head coach of the Newburgh Owls—a D-III school in northeastern Montana. The school currently has a 73-game losing streak and has only won three of the last 157.
The “hit” show, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” is being sued by MLB Commissioner, Bud Selig, for false advertising.
Speaking of Selig, Chiefs Herm Edwards called Selig after the 2002 MLB All-Star game outraged with the commissioner’s decision to end the game with no winner. He was later quoted as saying, “You play to win the game.”
Portland center, Greg Oden, is made of Balsa wood.
Meanwhile, Penn State’s Joe Paterno is made of steel.
A few decades ago, a failing divorce lawyer in New York created a program called fantasy football to boost his business. His name is Donald Trump.
Nascar is a sport.
Rev. Jesse Jackson has started to petition the NFL. Jackson believes Charger defensive coordinator Ted Cottrell was fired because Head Coach Norv Turner is a bigot. Jackson says Turner is prejudice against people with a better resume.
I usually agree with Rev. Jesse Jackson.
Fox Sports reporter Danyelle Sargent is related to Mike Tyson. That explains why every time America stops talking about her, she does something else phenomenally stupid.
Fred Glass was hired as the Athletic Director of Indiana. Oh, wait.
North Carolina star, Tyler Hansbrough is a level 37 mage in World of Warcraft, a wind-up bartending robot in Second Life and hates Dungeons and Dragons.
Tiger Woods drives a 1991 Buick LeSabre.
When President Bush was recently asked about the use of A.I. for life-saving surgeries the President replied, “Well, he did go to Georgetown.”
Sarah Palin thinks the NHL is just as fun to watch today as it was 10 years ago.
The not-devil Rays players call manager, Joe Maddon “turducken” for short.
Cleveland’s LeBron James and Portland’s Greg Oden hang out during the off-season. They don’t play video games or one-on-one, though. They try to see how old they can look.
Jets quarterback, Brett Favre is not comfortable in Wrangler.
Lil’ Jon is going to make a new album that is strictly audio cuts of post-game press conferences from the MLB, NBA, and NFL. He is going to put it over an 808 kick drum and a crazy synthesizer.
If a woodchuck could chuck wood, it would chuck five pieces of wood.
MMA is a sport.
The NCAA is moving March madness back a week and will now be referred to as Mostly March Madness or simply, mmm....
PETA recently sued Gatorade for the use of “gator” on their bottles.