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"A singular example of mental perversion, an absurd and immoral custom tenaciously held fast in mob-mind, has its genesis in the partisan zeal of athletic spectator-crowds. "Through the operation of the psychological laws of identification and catharsis, the thorough-going fan is distinctly benefited mentally, physically, and morally by spectator-participation in his favorite sport. . . . I conclude that the national habit of watching rather than playing games, despite all of the head-shaking of physical culturists and economists, sociologists, and intellectuals, is a salutary habit." "BUY ONE WHOPPER GET ONE FREE GO DUCKS" As I finished my business at Eugene's River Road post office, I stuffed a stack of forwarded mail into my backpack, gathered up my just-purchased stamps, and thanked the clerk for his help as he handed me my change. I figured he'd officially end the transaction with one of the standard replies: "Have a nice day," or maybe its make-me-gag variant, "Have a good one." To my surprise, he said: "Go Ducks." Go Ducks? I knew I wasn't in Manhattan any more. I'd been in Eugene for only a few days at that point, but it doesn't take much more time in this town to become acquainted with the UO mascot (or, for that matter, "duck spirit.")  That the duck was Donald seemed strange enough to me. That people here were actually proud of it was stranger still. Shouldn't the reportedly left-leaning Oregon student body be embarrassed, if not outraged, to have a licensed corporate character as its school's symbol? This town, after all, is known for its hippies and anarchists and vegans and pagans, not its sports fanatics. Certainly not its college football fans. Could it be that Eugene had a rah-rah side we never heard about Back East? Who knew? Well, now I knew. And having had my eyes opened to Go Ducks Fever, I couldn't help but see evidence of its hold on the citizenry everywhere I turned. It was on signs at gas stations. 7-Elevens. Subway sandwich shops. 
On buses. On (and often inside) people's cars. Pasted onto the window of wireless-phone stores. Even covering the windows (all eleven of them) of a physical-therapy center. 
Go Ducks. Go Ducks! GO DUCKS!!!! * * * To a transplanted northeasterner, this was all new. My Connecticut hometown's a mere 30 miles from Yale, but I have no childhood memories of "Go Bulldogs" signs, Bulldog victory stories on page 1 of the Bridgeport Post, or bulldog-shaped cookies on sale at the Stop & Shop. (Did I mention that South Eugene's Price Chopper bakes its own green-and-gold-frosted duck-shaped cookies? They're easy to find -- just look for the green-and-gold balloons floating above aisle 1.) 
 In the upstate New York town that's home to my undergrad alma mater, you might occasionally see "Go Red" on a marquee or in the window of a record shop. But it's usually limited to Cornell's homecoming weekend or the day before a big hockey (not football) game, and even then only in the student neighborhood right off campus. And I'd swear that during my 17 post-college years in New York City -- nine of those years living a mile from Columbia and the other eight just blocks from NYU -- I never saw a "Go Lions" banner or "Go Bobcats" t-shirt. This isn't to say that northeasterners aren't interested in sports. (Anyone who tuned in to a Yankees home game in this year's Series could see they are.) It's just that where I come from, people aren't as, shall we say, concerned, about college athletics -- and don't identify quite so personally with local college teams. And they're nowhere near as supportive (obsessive?) as they are here in Eugene.  What's interesting is that it hasn't been like this for all that long. The University may be celebrating its 125th anniversary this year, but Go Ducks Culture isn't anywhere near as long-lived. Yes, there's been a UO football team almost as long as there's been a UO. And yes, like newspapers in college town, Eugene's have always prominently covered the Ducks in their sports pages. Even back before the Ducks were the Ducks, the Oregon Webfoots (sometimes Webfooters; neither variant was ever made official) generated a lot of local press.  But "Go Webfoots" (or "Go Webfooters") doesn't seem to have been a standard local greeting, advertising tag line, or post-office-transaction closer.(1) Oregon's student body ratified "Ducks" as the school's nickname in the early 1930s. Likenesses of suspiciously Donald-like creatures started appearing in student publications and yearbooks shortly afterward...  ...although other duck styles were popular as well... 
...that is, until the Humane Society stepped in.)
(2) In 1947, the Walt Disney Company granted the University (by handshake deal) the right to use Donald as its mascot. But even Walt's blessing didn't infuse "Go Ducks" into the Eugene vernacular. Ducks were everywhere during UO's post-WWII period, to be sure, just as they had been before and during the war.  But it would take many years more before they'd be preceded by that all-important "Go." In 1973 -- the same year, coincidentally, that UO and Disney executed their first written contract regarding Donald's likeness -- the Oregon Daily Emerald put out a decade-by-decade history of the university's athletic programs, teams and heroes. The comprehensive issue included pages and pages of articles, team photos, team stats, and, of course, ads for local businesses. Surely here, in these hundreds of pages of Ducks content, one would expect to spot a "Go Ducks." But there's not a single one to be found. The closest anything in that 1973 Emerald came was "Go Big Green," a line at the bottom of an advertisement for the now defunct Holiday Inn on Coburg Road. The Gay Blade, though, made a contribution to the duck-in-advertising genre:  If the annual Emerald and Register-Guard football-season previews can be taken as material evidence, it appears that the now-ubiquitous Go mantra made its first appearance only as recently as -- drum roll, please -- 1990.(3) Go figure. And in the 11 years since, Eugene's students, citizens, and businesses have certainly been making up for lost time in exhorting their beloved Ducks to Go. And here's a reluctant confession: it's working. Yes, Go Ducks Fever can be contagious, striking even the most bemused and critical of new Eugene residents. (Translation: I've been to 3 Ducks games since moving here and am looking forward to this year's Civil War, assuming I can snag a ticket; I own a UO t-shirt with a discreet Donald; and my hat-rack even sports a green-and-gold ball cap with a certain rallying cry above the brim.) Still, to this ex-northeasterner, it will always be a little jarring to read "Thank You. Please Come Again! GO DUCKS!" on a United States Postal Service receipt. To get an e-mail solicitation for a community charity fund drive that ends with "Thank you and GO DUCKS!!" Or to fill my gas tank at this place...  |
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