After an early morning flight and 2-hour drive down through the grey, fog morning, I pulled into Corvallis four hours before kickoff of the 120th Civil War and was greeted with nothing but a consistent drizzle and “Lot Full” signs at every turn. Luckily, out of the corner of my eye I caught a small wooden sign on the side of the road that had been spray painted orange with a handwritten, black scrawl of “Parking” and an arrow. I instinctively turned up the narrow sidestreet and at the end of the cul de sac was met by a smiling middle-aged couple decked out in orange and black.

Not seeing any space to park a car on the plot of land next to the house, I rolled down my window to ask if they had any space left. “Sure, you can park in my driveway if you like,” the man responded more as an offer of neighborly assistance than a business transaction, “but it’s not a good choice if you’re leaving early, everyone gets blocked in.” I assured him I wouldn’t be leaving early as I pulled in to park for the last regular season stop of this Pac-12 tour.

“You do this every year?” I asked.

“Yup, money goes straight to Santa’s workshop, the kids think their gifts are determined by whether they were bad or good, but truth is that it’s all dependent on the Beavs.”

While thinking about how badly Mike Riley would feel if he knew the impact some of his questionable playcalls have had on these kids’ Christmas presents, I asked the man if he charged the same amount for every game.

“$10 for the regular season. $20 for the Civil War. A few years back when the Beavs went to the Alamo Bowl, we were able to charge $20 for the regular season and $40 for the Civil War and still had a full driveway each game. Stockings were really overflowing that year.”

When I asked him where the best tailgates were before the game, he pointed me towards the main OSU parking lot, but as I began to walk away, he informed me, “But today, where are the best tailgates? Everywhere. People around here live for this game. And you picked the right year to come, I think we might even have a shot this year.”

At this point, I told him I felt the Beavs had more than just a shot, I was confident they were going to pull through and break the streak of 8 losses to their bitter rival. My confidence had nothing to do with Gary Anderson’s coaching or the sudden emergence of Ryan Nall as Toby Gerheart 2.0, but I explained how I had been to every other school in the Pac-12 this season and every school I visited had brought home the W. There was no possible way this streak was being broken on the last game of the regular season. (Yes, I know UCLA lost, but I said every school I “visited,” I’m a UCLA season ticket holder, I sat in my own seats, that wasn’t a visit, but a weekend “at home.”) He wasn’t quite so convinced by my reasoning. “Yeah, like I said, I think we actually have a shot this year.”

The Best College Town in The Pac-12

Corvallis bills itself as the “Best College Town in the Pac-12,” which in complete honesty isn’t saying all that much. The Pac-12 is much more of a conference of cities than towns. The only places that can probably qualify as college towns are Pullman and Corvallis. So Corvallis claiming it’s the best college town in the Pac-12 is kind of like Kylie claiming she’s the smartest Jenner on Keeping up with the Kardashians. Sure, it's probably true, but it’s not like there are a whole lot of options. Taglines aside, there’s nothing like a college town on gameday and as I made the walk past the single story houses and their frontyards filled with teenagers selling handwarmers and knitted beanies from behind fold-up tables, it dawned on me that even the trees lining the path to the stadium, with their black barren branches and lingering orange leaves, seemed to understand the importance of this game to Corvallis.

Is it really Civil?

Saturday marked the 120th playing of the Civil War, and after about 20 minutes in the parking lot, I did absolutely zero second-guessing when a fan pointed out that “this is the state’s biggest sporting event of the year, every year.”

It also doesn't take long to recognize there is a reason this is called the Civil War. There is not a single monochromatic tailgate in the place, every sea of orange is speckled with some green and yellow (yes on rivalry week, the Ducks rightfully keep their colors simple) and every pond of green has a few of those funny looking Beaver caps floating around. The wagers on this game aren’t for sums of money, but for who will have to do the dishes on Christmas when the whole family is back together.

“I’m sick of doing the dishes,” Albert tells me. Albert is one of those kids who learned to cheer against the green and yellow before he learned to read and write. He grew up coming to see the Beavers at the originally-named Parker Stadium and is still in disbelief at how cool it is that his brother is now the the Oregon State equipment manager. Despite living over 2 hours away, Albert hasn’t missed a game this decade. By all accounts, Albert seems like a standup guy, but that doesn’t mean his father-in-law is going to forgive him for “poisoning the grandkids.” Once upon a time, his father-in-law dawned the Ducks uniform on Saturdays in the fall, but now that Duck veteran has grandsons who bleed black and orange, and grandpa has absolutely no pity that his grandsons have been stuck helping their father clean off the Christmas dinner dishes for the past 8 years. They sometimes call it Hate Week, but make no mistake, rivalry games are much more about how deeply fans love being able to stick out their chest and remind their loved ones of the outcome for the next 365 days.

Before I set out on this journey I stated “Not everyone around here learns good vs. evil and right vs. wrong through lessons about the correct colors to root for on Saturdays in the fall. But there's a whole of us who do.” The tailgaters filling Reser Stadium parking lot on this damp fall morning are the people I was talking about and days like the Civil War are when those lessons are most apparent. What non-college sports fans can’t understand about a game like this is that you don’t pick a team to support in the Civil War. There’s no choice involved in a battle like this, it’s a matter of destiny. Rivalry games aren’t about the team you like, they’re about the team you are. You don’t root for the Ducks or the Beavs, you identify as a Duck or a Beaver. Win or lose, its an immutable characteristic.

Good "Clean" Fun

Given that the Oregon schools are separated by less than an hour and the fact that Corvallis is a closer trip for the many fans coming from Portland, it's no surprise that there is no shortage of Ducks’ fans who have made the trip down to Corvallis, and to listen to them talk, you can quickly understand why Beavers fans can't stand being treated like a little brother. “We hope they get good. We’d love for this game to be the biggest game of the year, again,” one group of Ducks tells me.

Offended as the Beavs might be, there’s no debating that they’ve been the underdog for the past decade. Heading into today's game, Oregon is on an 8-year winning streak, tied for the longest such streak in the history of this series that dates back to the 1800s. However, even the long odds haven't stopped the Beaver fans from making the Civil War a special event each time it occurs in Corvallis. Even Ducks fans have good things to say about the trips to Reser Stadium, “Love the atmosphere here, always a packed house and good, clean fun.”

As unlikely as it may be, one place you can witness firsthand that good "clean" fun is during a trip to the restroom. In a time-honored tradition, some extremely dedicated fans spend the morning before the biggest game of the season dropping a rubber duck in all the stadium’s urinals and some diehards have even expanded it out to the port-o-pottys in recent years so that not a single fan can go to use the restroom without the friendly face of a rubber duck staring back at them from the depository.

Another classic tale of creative trash-talk came from the 2008 Civil War, the year Oregon's current winning streak started. Oregon State came into the game ranked #17 in the country, with the Ducks were right behind them at #19. The only thing that was separating the Beavers from their first trip to the Rose Bowl since 1964 was their arch-rival. In what I’m sure was an electric atmosphere, the Beavers fell behind 37-17 at halftime and never recovered.

Traditionally (back before the added mess of the CFP and before that, the BCS), when a team clinched the Pac-12 title and punched their ticket to the Rose Bowl, the players and fans would celebrate on the field after the game with roses raised high in the air or clenched in their teeth. As a result, business was booming for Corvallis area florists on the Friday before the game. While most of those purchases were left to rot in the Reser Stadium parking lot after the game, one clever, confident Duck fan who had spent the entire day before calling florists all over the state raced to his car in the waning moments of the U of O victory so that he could be standing at the gates of the stadium as Beavs fans headed home. As the OSU fans made their way out to their cars, this Ducks fan was there with an outstretched arm offering his parting gift: black roses.

Spending time and effort to fill every urinal with a rubber duck and scouring the state to find black roses in hopes of being able to send a rival off with one last burn. Yup. That’s what the Civil War is all about.

The Beaver Bus

Now, throughout this journey, from the Holy War to the Civil War, we've seen some impressive tailgating, but nowhere have team-themed vehicles been as plentiful as in Corvallis. And while Reser Stadium parking lot on gameday is undoubtedly the largest gathering of orange and black bus owners on the planet, everyone kept telling me to head to the corner to meet the original Beaver Bus owner, Jerry Weis.

The Beaver Bus was put together by Weis back when his son was playing for the Beavs in the early 2000s. While the Weis’ have been Beavs fans "forever," they realized when their son started playing for the Beavs that they would need more tailgating space. They wanted a place they could share with all the other players’ families. So Mr. Weis went out and got a bus. A bus that would become the traditional meeting place for Beavers players past and present, and their families. Before each game, all the players' families would meet at the bus after watching their sons walk into the stadium and thanks to the great orange and black bus in the corner of the lot, all the players knew where to find their families after the game.

The Beaver Bus has now become an essential element of gameday at Reser Stadium. The roof of the bus is covered from end to end with signatures of players and coaches past, and when those players are back in town, they'll always stop by to check in on the bus and ensure their signature is still prominently displayed.

Most of the regulars at the Beaver Bus have been coming to games since it was $6 per season to park on the gravel lot and they couldn't help their voices from reaching 4th quarter decibels as they listed off Civil War memory after Civil War memory such as the game that created Joey 5 Picks (for Oregon QB great Joey Harrington who threw 5 interceptions in the 2000 edition of the Civil War and ruined the Ducks chances at a trip to the Rose Bowl) or the Civil War party that went so late some spent the night in the parking lot after Pat Chaffey helped the Beavs end a 14-year winless streak in 1988.

Many great signs at the Civil War, including “Herbert Eats Quinoa”, “7,164 Uniform Combos, 0 National Championships” & “Say No to Quack”, but nothing beats this guy who made me "pinky promise" not to share this photo until after the game.  … — Many great signs at the Civil War, including “Herbert Eats Quinoa”, “7,164 Uniform Combos, 0 National Championships” & “Say No to Quack”, but nothing beats this guy who made me "pinky promise" not to share this photo until after the game. Yup, "pinky promise," that's what rivalries do to otherwise well-adjusted adults.

Quick Hits:

Knowing When to Cut the Cord - As kickoff creeped closer and the buzz in the air grew stronger and stronger, there was a good portion of fans who kept glancing from the tailgate TV to their watches. The game between #2 Ohio State and #3 Michigan had served as an exceptional backdrop to tailgating all morning long, but as the minutes to kickoff drew closer, fans were starting to question how close they could cut it. Finally, when Ohio State kicked the field goal to tie it up at the end of regulation, the tailgate I happened to be visiting cut the cord and headed in. Yes, they were rejecting overtime in a rivalry battle between 2 of the best teams in the country to make it in time for kickoff between two teams who each had all of 2 conference wins, but when it’s your team and your rivalry, it’s really not much of a decision at all.

The First Down Chop - Every time the Beavers get a first down, the whole crowd at Reser engages in a chop (I’m assuming symbolic of a Beaver chopping a tree down, although I've never heard of Beavers using their arms for that). Anyway, the OSU first down chop is actually tremendous, without a doubt, the best first down tradition in the Pac-12. As soon as the officials start moving the chains the band starts it off with a slow methodic beat and then the whole stadium joins in with the slow coordinated chopping motion (which obviously doubles as a first down signal) and on the last beat, everyone gives out a big grunting hrragh! As a pretty committed Pac-12 fan, I am astonished that I never knew about the chop's existence. Now the easy route here is to make a joke about the lack of first downs the Beavs have gotten over the past few years, but I’m just going to chalk this up to the incredible effect the chop has when the place is filled to the brim for the Civil War.

I referenced how amazing the student sections have been this season in my immediate end of season shoutouts, so I won’t harp on it here, but keep in mind, this was a game between losing teams directly after Thanksgiving!!! Beanies off to Beaver Dam!

In-and-Out Privileges - About half the Pac-12 stadiums provide fans “in-and-out” which unfortunately doesn’t mean the capability to purchase a Double-Double at halftime, but rather the ability to leave the stadium at halftime to quickly down a couple cold ones to fuel you up for the second half. As a large believer in the motto “If the team is giving 100% on the field, fans better give 100% in the stands,” I’m all for fans doing whatever they need to do to get juiced for the second half, but the fact is that most of those fans don’t make it back in until the end of the third quarter, which might be acceptable some days, but not for the Civil War. Reser Stadium was absolutely electric all day, except for the first half of the third quarter when the place was ⅓ empty as fans struggled to make their way back to their seats. I don’t think there is any coincidence that in the period of time, the Beavs went 3 and out twice and gave up 10 points to dig themselves a 24-14 hole midway through the 3rd quarter. I’ve been back and forth on these privileges all season, but this was the final straw. I’m leading the charge now - no “In-and-Out” privileges during Rivalry Week.

And the Reign Starts to Fall

Serendipitously, it was right around the time that Oregon kicked through the Field Goal to go up 10 that Reser once again seemed to be filled to the brim once again. With the crowd back to chopping at full throat after each Ryan Nall first down run, the Beavs quickly powered through the Oregon run defense to punch in a TD to cut it to 24-21 as the PNW heavens opened up and rain began to pour on Reser Stadium. Simultaneous to the goblets of rain coming down, the wind picked up and began roaring through the stadium. While under any other circumstances this freezing rain coming down sideways is considered hideous weather, based on the number of times I heard people mention "Oregon Football Weather, baby!" and the noticeable lift in energy in the stadium, I'm pretty certain 99% of the Civil War fans couldn't have been happier with this change in weather. As for myself, let's just say my decision to wear the same boat shoes I had worn to all 11 previous stops was at the very least a questionable call.

While the section I was in was on their feet the entire game, the rainstorm essentially forced fans to scream at the top of their lungs and feverishly throw their fists into the air after every play. With a rejuvenated crowd, the Beavers rolled through the Ducks again to take the lead on another Ryan Nall touchdown with just under 10 minutes to play. As they setup for the enusing kickoff, a fan in the row directly behind me kept repeating to himself “The Beavers are winning in the 4th quarter of the Civil War. The Beavers are winning in the 4th quarter of the Civil War." as if it could only be true if stated aloud.

While the Beavers haven't had the greatest recent run, the past 8 years haven't been terrible (when compared to Wazzu or Colorado, for example), there's been 3 bowl games and a 9-win season sprinkled in there, but it's the drought against the Ducks that has left the Beaver faithful feeling terrible all offseason. A bowl win is nice, but that high last for a day or two, maybe a week. A Civil War victory lasts all year, and you could feel this tension ratchet onto the fans as soon as Oregon State took the 4th quarter lead.

But as that tension settled in, the rain continued to fall, and the Beavs continued to roll. Another 3-and-out and Ryan Nall TD run later, the Beavs were well on their way to 365 days of bragging rights. When the last dagger was finally struck when Oregon's tight end dropped the ball in the end zone with under a minute to play, the 9 year, 900 pound Duck that had been on the back of Beavs fans was thrown to the turf and surely more than one grown man dressed in black and orange was glad the rain was still falling to cover up the other mositure coming from their eyes.

After taking a nice, long while to soak in the pure jubilation down on the field, I figured I should probably start the trek back to my car that was surely blocking others in. But when I reached the end of that narrow, rainsoaked street, it happened that I wasn't blocking anyone in at all. All the other vehicle owners were still at the stadium celebrating. Just as I reached the driveway, the neighbor who had let me park in his driveway came out from behind his truck with both arms raised to the air, "You did it, man, you did it! You brought us the luck we needed!" You're welcome Beaver fans, you're welcome.