For college baseball in Oregon, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
When I moved to Eugene in 2013, the state’s two major college baseball programs were in very different places.
The Oregon State University Beavers had recently won the national championship in 2006 and 2007. Inching their way toward blueblood status in the college baseball world, they were helmed by legendary Coach Pat Casey, regularly played in the College World Series tournament, and recruited top players up and down the West Coast. They had stellar pitching, could pick it at every position around the diamond, and smashed balls over the fence on a regular basis.
At the other end of the spectrum were the Oregon Ducks. Coached by George Horton, who had previously won a championship while serving as the skipper at Cal State Fullerton, the Ducks had not fielded a team at all between 1981 and 2008. The baseball program returned to the University of Oregon in 2009 and the team played at beautiful PK Park in Eugene, a first-rate stadium courtesy, naturally, of Nike money.
The Ducks played small ball, bunted a lot, and always seemed to score two or three runs per game. Granted, they did have some winning seasons after I moved to town, but they played the most boring brand of baseball I had ever seen. As somewhat of a baseball purist, I am definitely not against small ball or a situational bunt, but the Ducks seemed to have an aversion to excitement. Legging out a triple and just beating the tag? Nah. Dramatic 9th inning homeruns? Never. Dominant pitchers who mowed down batters? Nope.
But, aside from the style of ball each team played and the different levels of excitement they generated with their on-field performances, there was an even bigger difference I discovered the first time I made the trip up Highway 99 to Corvallis to take in a Beavers home game.
In my experience, there are two types of people—or two types of crowds—that attend baseball games.
The first iteration are folks who mildly understand how baseball operates as a game, but they are not there to dissect pitch choices on full counts or see how the outfield is positioned against a powerful left-handed hitter in a key moment. These people are at the game to enjoy a day at the ballpark as a recreational pursuit akin to strolling aimlessly at the weekend farmer’s market. It represents a chance to breathe some fresh air, soak up a little sun (well, in western Oregon that’s a hit or miss proposition), drink a beer or two, munch on some ballpark treats, chat with friends and family, and occasionally look up from their phones when they spy runners speeding around the basepaths out of the corner of their eye.
I am not saying that nobody at PK Park watching the Ducks is deeply invested in the game itself, but from my experience the crowd in Eugene seems to be of the IPA and nachos and leave in the 7th inning ilk.
After a couple of years of yawning at Ducks games, I said what the hell and bought a ticket to attend a Beavers home game.
The second type of people who go to the ballyard are the type of people that fill the stands in Corvallis. Beavers fans are into it—I mean, into it! Come on blue! Atta boy #6! Let’s go, Nick—base hit right here buddy! Did you see them turn that 6-4-3?! Let’s goooo!
These are my kind of baseball fans!
Sure, the crowd in Corvallis still swigs beer and eats hot dogs and looks at their phones. But Beavers fans are there to watch the game itself. They moan when the Oregon State hurler does not get the strike call on the low outside pitch. They know the players’ names and are not shy about shouting encouragement as a batter strides to the plate. They relentlessly harass the home plate umpire. They nod in approval and grumble “nice play” when the opposition’s third baseman makes a diving catch on a ball in the hole. In short, they are there to watch baseball. They are there to be engaged in every pitch.
I was hooked. Sure, I lived in Eugene and cheered for the Ducks, but how could I not become a Beavers baseball fan? Chatting with strangers in the stands about Andy Armstrong’s hitting streak? Check. Standing ovations for 1-2-3 shutdown innings? Yep. Watching guys smack the ball all over the yard instead of drag bunting for base hits? Yes, please!
At first it happened slowly, but then all at once. I bought a Beavers ballcap. I stopped going to Ducks games and started logging in to StubHub on Tuesdays to find good seats for the upcoming weekend series at Goss Stadium in Corvallis. And then the defining moment came—I attended a Ducks versus Beavers game and cheered for the guys wearing black and orange. It was official, I had divorced the Ducks and married into the Beavers baseball family.
I got hitched at just the right time. In 2016 I became a regular at the ballpark in Corvallis, tuned in via radio to hear Mike Parker’s call on the games I did not attend, and checked box scores on the contests I missed. The team had so many exciting players and major league prospects: Nick Madrigal (now with the Cubs), Steven Kwan (now with the Guardians), Trevor Larnach (now with the Twins), Adley Rutschman (now with the Orioles), and so many more.
Then, in 2018, it happened.
The Beavers, at the pinnacle of their strength, made a run in the College World Series in Omaha, Nebraska. Rutschman smacked double after double, Larnach launched bomb after bomb, and shortstop Cadyn Grenier got clutch hit after clutch hit. There was a blowout victory versus the Huskies. There was a solid win against North Carolina. Then the Beavers dominated Mississippi State to advance. They found themselves in the three-game championship series facing the formidable Arkansas Razorbacks.
After dropping the first game, Oregon State mounted a dramatic comeback to win game two thanks to timely hitting and a late-inning foul ball that Arkansas should have caught to seal the victory, but instead fell to the ground with three confused Razorbacks surrounding it. The stage was set for a winner-take-all game three.
The rubber match was over the moment it started. In one of the all-time greatest pitching performances I have ever witnessed, the Beavers’ freshman phenom Kevin Abel threw a gem of a game. His curveball was buckling batters’ knees. The bottom was dropping out of his changeup as Arkansas players flailed over the top of it. He backed up his breaking pitches with a deceptive fastball that caught Razorback hitters by surprise as they were punched out by the umpire one after the other. In the end, Abel hurled a masterful two-hit, complete game shutout. The Beavers managed to put a few runs on the board and a dogpile on the mound ensued after the last out was recorded on the field in Omaha. Oregon State had done it—they were the 2018 national champions of college baseball!
When the team arrived home they toured the streets of Portland atop Hummers hoisting the championship trophy over their heads. They held a rally downtown at Pioneer Courthouse Square, before traveling the final leg of the trek home to Corvallis. Upon their arrival, Goss Stadium hosted a championship ceremony as the Beavers’ hometown fans filled the stands, stood and cheered, and honored the best college baseball team in the nation.
The journey was complete. In the world of sports fandom, nothing is more satisfying than religiously following a team throughout a season that ends in a championship. Winning it all takes so much dedication, so much commitment, so much focus. It takes individual star performances and unbreakable team unity. It takes strategic, savvy coaching. And, to be honest, it takes a little bit of luck.
Naturally, the Beavers cannot be the final team on top in Omaha every year. But each spring presents a new opportunity, a new beginning. Right now, in mid-April 2022, the Beavers are ranked in the top five of every college baseball national poll. They have a true pitching staff ace in the form of Cooper Hjerpe and a lineup chocked full of fearsome hitters. While the illustrious Coach Pat Casey retired a couple of years ago, the Beavers are now led by the very capable Mitch Canham. The regular season still has a way to go, but the postseason is on the horizon and the team’s prospects appear very promising. While nothing is guaranteed, another parade down the streets of Portland in June is certainly a possibility. Fingers crossed.