Nearly every movie about sports or soldiers features a training montage set to magisterial music, images and crescendos that celebrate the idea of the individual pushed beyond their presumed limits, repeatedly falling face down in the dirt at the base of the wall or thrown for a loss on 37 Blast. There is sweat and exhaustion and despair. The individuals fail until they are forged into a corps.
There are hundreds of examples. American Sniper. Remember the Titans. Full Metal Jacket. Chariots of Fire. 300. The Rocky films. A Few Good Men. Friday Night Lights. Any movie about Marines or the Navy Seals. The Junction Boys. The Sands of Iwo Jima. Kid Galahad.
The ritual retelling even seeps into low comedy. Hot Shots, Blades of Glory and Happy Gilmore all have the requisite homage to collapse and overcoming adversity.
It's not an empty exercise. Every culture needs this walkabout, this way to remember, remember. Myths transfer cherished values, like excellence, discipline, dedication and sacrifice. Sports are a little war, fought over friendlier and more humane terrain.
In the movie versions, some bug out. The weak are eliminated one by one. They ring the bell, catch a midnight bus, surrender their uniform, say a tearful good-bye in civilian clothes, urging the survivors to press on and conquer their fears.
In real life, three players went to the hospital.
It's fortunate that the training incident at Oregon ended in embarrassment rather than tragedy. Dennis Dodd of cbs.com pointed out the other day that since 2000, 21 NCAA football players have died in training related incidents.
One of these, California Bears defensive end Ted Agu suffered heart failure and died after a strenuous workout in 2014. The school admitted negligence and settled a lawsuit for $4.75 million. The strength and conditioning coach, Damon Harrington, drew heavy fire for his drills and methods, but he was still employed at Cal through the 2016 season.
Every FBS school has a winter conditioning program, and they are all intended to be grueling and intense. They have to be. Two years after Agu's death, Harrington's featured the following drills:
Thunderdome *
Death Crawl *
Tug of War *
Terrible Towel *
Tire of Terror
Tire Tap Out
Grave digger
In the last week DSA analyst Scott Reed, a former marine and world class power lifter, has offered compelling testimony about the principle that athletes must be tested and pushed. Reed relates that some of his own workouts were so intense that afterward he had to ice his chest the way a starting pitcher might ice his arm after 8 innings of throwing 95+ miles an hour.
In December reports came out that confirmed what had been talked about in the DSA forums for two years. The Ducks had grown soft in the Helfrich years, deplorably undisciplined about practice and workouts. Training sessions were skipped. Players breezed through weightlifting sessions, cheating on repetitions, or doing far less than the required intensity. They were late to meetings and dogged it at practice.
The results were predictable. Helfrich's 2016 team slumped to 4-8 with audible grumbling about commitment and double standards. They visibly quit during games. Streaks ended. Old rivals blew them out by embarrassing scores.
In the 120th Civil War Oregon State ran the football 22 straight times to overcome a 10-point deficit in the 4th quarter, and the Ducks didn't have the will to stop them once.
Clearly the culture had to change. Clearly pushing too hard is way better than not pushing at all.
Enter Willie Taggart and Irele Oderinde. From the beginning, Taggart pledged that the culture of entitlement and compromised effort was going to change at Oregon, that the Ducks would get bigger, faster and stronger and make no excuses.
The players wanted to be challenged. To a man they've come out in support of the new coaching staff and the new standards of work. Dozens have tweeted about how being pushed, being required to grind, gives them new pride and an opportunity to win at a high level and reach their goals. "Free Coach O," they wrote.
Training has to be rigorous and seemingly inhuman. Limits have to be tested. But rest, ice, hydration and recovery are crucial parts of training, and peer pressure can't be used to the point someone winds up in the hospital or dead.
Bad things happen. The Oregon athletic department handled this in the right way and took immediate measures to correct the situation. They didn't cover it up or gloss it over. Willie Taggart took responsibility and apologized, and Oderinde is serving a 30-day suspension.
New safeguards have been put it place, and the chain of command has been reordered so that a training and sports performance professional has ultimate oversight of the football strength and conditioning program.
It's clear the Ducks are fully committed to both player safety and reaching their potential.
And that is a refreshing change.