A Smashing Debut and A Suprise Appearance

The Oregon Ducks opened their 2008 football season before a raucous capacity crowd of 58,778, mauling an undermanned Washington Husky squad 44-10 in Autzen Stadium. Jake Locker performed like Morgan Freeman in a slasher film, delivering a solid and credible performance, but the cast, script and direction around him were all inadequate.

I watched the game from the nose bleed seats with my brothers Mike and Roger and we had a great time. Mike is a charming and sociable man and made friends with all of our neighbors in spite of being the only Husky fan in our section, a sea of Nike clad green and yellow crazies standing and screaming at the top of their lungs on every defensive play. The home crowd sits silent for the offense until the play is over. Mike made good-natured bets and jokes with our neighbors and won them over the same way he wins over small children and old ladies and women of every age--he's just that outgoing and good humored, quite a contrast to his two grumpy and introverted brothers.

Between plays we talked pleasantly about the game and the strategy, updating Mike of what we knew of the news of the teams, injured players and position battles. He lives in San Diego and doesn't get enough Northwest football news. We had time to retell a few stories about our absent brother, Frank, the handsome and successful one, who always had a scheme or an angle growing up, how he conned his two younger brothers into working on his paper route for free with Tom Sawyer-like depictions of its glories, the story he made up when his friend fell through the ceiling while my parents were away, tanning on the roof to get ready for outings on his ski boat (he had a ski boat and a big flashy truck by the time he was 19--even then the boy was going places and knew his way around a buck.) There were other stories when didn't get to, how he used to sneak girls into his room through the window, stories we'll tell the next time we get together and he fails to show up. It's dangerous to be absent in a large family with a long collective memory. Invariably you will be the topic of conversation and good-natured character assassination.

There are certain foods that just go with certain settings. I had a plump sausage dog and a bag of kettlekorn for dinner, shared the kettlekorn with Roger, munching nervously as the game progressed. The second quarter was tense and anxious. Locker got going and the Ducks couldn't stop him; he ran and passed at will, aided by ticky-tack penalties and key scrambles on third and long. The Oregon offense sputtered, starting quarterback Justin Roper mysteriously absent. The murmurs in the crowd were that it was another of Coach Belotti's aggravating rotations, until the news filtered through that Roper was hurt. This time the experiment with the third and fourth-string quarterbacks was born of necessity, and worked to perfection in the second half, when the Ducks rose up with 34 unanswered points.

I wish my smart, funny and beautiful daughter Stephanie could have been there to witness this dominating performance, especially after her Beavers fell flat on their face with bonehead mistakes on Thursday. Maybe she would come over to the green side and leave the clutches of the evil Beaver Nation. That's probably too much to hope for, but a father always hopes for the best for his children, in spite of how far they stray from the true path.

In other football news, the highly successful cheaters from USC ran roughshod over Virginia 52-7, the Trojans getting a star-quality performance from new quarterback Mark Sanchez, a part-time starter in '07, handed the keys to the Trojan Porsche after the graduation of John David Booty. The Trojans look loaded again, and why shouldn't they be, with 200 Division One athletes to recruit each year within 50 miles of campus, a movie-star handsome head coach with a full head of tousled grey hair, and a phalanx of illegal agents and overzealous boosters armed with cash to refuel that finely-tuned Trojan war machine, season after season. But I'm not bitter, except about the full head of hair. Come October, we'll lace it up and take our chances in the Coliseum. I hope our young quarterbacks are veterans by then, because on that day we'll be the outmanned team facing the raucous home crowd. Sports are funny that way.

The surprise appearance came on Friday. I was working out at the Mall 205 Bally's, feeling blue and depressed over Marie's last terse email and the apparent complete collapse of our marriage, drowning my sorrows in sweat, when she walked in looking better than anybody has a right to be in the black stretch workout pants I bought her a week or two before, looking twice as good as women half her age in her workout gear, her hair up and gym bag in her hand. Just this week Vice Presidential candidate Joe Biden got some flack for introducing his wife as "drop dead gorgeous" but I think every man should feel that way about the woman he loves.

I still feel that longing and desire for her, but standing there in front of the water fountain we had a tense moment. What was she doing here? I asked. Why hadn't I returned her text messages or her calls? she said. I left my phone at home this morning, forgot it on the desk. She accepted the explanation, knowing how absent-minded I am. After some bickering we decided to work out, and gradually warmed to each other, me half-aroused just watching her doing situps. Afterward we went to Boss Hawg's for ribeyes, mashed potatoes and broccoli, and talked more seriously and constructively about reconciling than we have in months. In the message I missed she explained that she was more hurt than angry. I was stunned to see her. She's a fiery and difficult woman, but what incredible heart and courage she has. I need to make some money. I want my wife back, and she wants me. How's that for a fourth-quarter comeback?