How Willie Taggart saved Oregon football
On the eve of Signing Day, things couldn't be more different than they were in late November.
The recruiting class was a wreck. Morale was a broken sewer main. Fans, players and staff mucked through a stench of uncertainty and lame explanations. Two years removed from the pinnacle of college football, Oregon had become an embarrassment, a wasteland, a mess.
Reports surfaced about a lack of commitment and effort in the weight room and locker room. There were divisions and finger-pointing. Losing does that.
The Ducks were 4-8, with little reason to think the future offered anything more than scrapping with the Beavers for .500 seasons and Belk Bowls.
Mark Helfrich had a way of suppressing enthusiasm. Willie Taggart incites it.
Helfrich couldn't help himself. That nervous manner and self-deprecating humor just lent an air of mockery to everything he said. There were those constant asides, the little chuckles about fan expectations and perceptions, the tendency to to deflect, dismiss, and underplay. It became a little maddening when things went south. In the midst of a miserable season, it made you doubt his conviction and fitness for the job. Maybe the room was just too big for him.
In less than two months, Taggart has made it fun to be an Oregon fan again. He's brought enthusiasm and commitment. From the beginning it's been evident that "doing something" wasn't just a mantra but a way of living and leading.
The coach makes things happen. He oozes charisma and energy. He hired a crack staff of achievers and innovators and ace recruiters. Offers went out at a furious pace. A recruiting class with little to no momentum went from waning prospects and interest to a full sizzle, a crackle, a buzz. Three and four offers went out a day, and suddenly the Ducks were in play for kids with juice, dynamic athletes with speed to burn, big fellas who could stonewall a run game, linebackers who walked on the field in attack mode and had the agility to chase down plays, cornerbacks who could lock down one side of the field.
Twitter became a jailbreak blitz of Duck momentum. "Floregon" and "QuackAttack17" took shape. With the help of the committed players and the athletic staff and coaches, Taggart's orchestrated a buzz around Signing Day, announcements and events designed to boost the profile and create momentum. There's a feeling that something's happening, that a culture is taking full flight.
Instead of being deflated or undermined by chilling, faintly hostile sarcasm, there's an open invitation to participate. Oregon is Oregon again. It's cool to believe in the Ducks, to have confidence in the direction of the program.
Don't call them Dawgs. These kids are Ducks. They're determined and willing to grind. They expect big things from themselves and want to be champions. They like the flash and facilities but they came to play football, to work and make no excuses.
These are Ducks like Charles Nelson and Troy Dye, like Marcus Mariota and LaMichael James. They want to be special. They're proud to wear the uniform. They want to be challenged and coached.
Hearing their stories, and celebrating their great day, becoming part of the 2500 athletes who will earn new college scholarships this year, it's an invitation to be optimistic and believe in great dreams. It's just a game, but the people and the effort make it special.
Cynical people always look for a reason to be pessimistic and unhappy. They embrace cynical statements and dire analysis and never challenge its underlying assumptions. Have a good day if you want to, and go Ducks.