Colossus Defined (and refined)




El Coloso


This week Sports Illustrated doubled down on their cover jinx by putting Marcus Mariota on the front with the title "The Colossus", and the lines, "Oregon redefined West Coat football, now it's time to conquer America (They're coming for you, SEC)."

Thanks S.I. Way to put that target on Oregon's back with indelible oil base paint; and with Stanford up next, no less.

So OK. Let's just go with it. Stick our chins out, and as Crash Davis said in Bull Durham, "Be cocky and arrogant."  But what exactly is this "Colossus" they speak of?

I climbed the 21st century Mt. Olympus of information (Google) to get to The Oracle of modern knowledge (Wikipedia) and found two primary definitions of "The Colossus." The first was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, "The Colossus of Rhodes", a 100-foot tall statue of a strong dude holding a lamp near Greece circa 260 BC. But that didn't seem to fit this narrative.

The second reference was the painting shown at the top. And as soon as I saw it, I got it. From the famous Spanish painter Francisco De Goya, The Colossus, or El Coloso, and also called El Panico (The Panic) and El Tormenta (The Storm), is an image of a giant seen beyond the hills who looks to be in a bad mood. In the valley below, we see the little people, the rabble and their livestock all panicking and fleeing in hopes of getting away before El Coloso turns his attention toward them.

Let me take this moment and say that it's been years since I had an SI subscription, let alone read it regularly. I grew tired of the East Coast bias and sloppiness with local detail. This is indeed an interesting SI story about the shift of power from USC and UCLA to Oregon and Stanford. Nevertheless it had one line in it saying for all of Phil Knight's philanthropy to Oregon, he has "kept his name off the architecture" in Eugene. 

That suggests to me that even if writer Austin Murphy visited Autzen and surrounding facilities, he never ventured onto campus where he would've walked past the Matt Knight Basketball Arena, past the Knight Library, and over to the Knight Law Center where he could have found a cozy quiet spot to write his story. And then if he caught a connecting flight out of Portland, he could have looked up on a hill and spied the Knight Cancer Institute at OHSU. It's just another typical case of poor, lazy journalism intermixed with otherwise good writing.

But back to the painting and the cover, what SI is suggesting is that Oregon's style -- both the play on the field and the successful marketing off the field -- is taking the country by storm (El Tormenta). As you look again, you can see how this image can apply to what may appear before our eyes starting tonight and through the winter.

Looking in the distance (Let's say westward.), we see the giant looming beyond a mountain range (Let's say the Rockies). His attention is presently turned in another direction (Perhaps maybe let's say . . . . southward, towards Palo Alto.) where he has some unfinished business to, uhhh. . . . FINISH.

The folks in the valleys and plains below fear what is about to happen to The Farm, as El Coloso Pato (The Giant Duck) will turn the Cardinal into a sea of red. (???)  And they can only hope that this will buy them time to run and hide.

If you were to look closer at the scurrying figures at the bottom of the image (But don't bother looking too close because I just didn't have time to Photoshop some stuff down there like I wanted, although it would've made the refinement of this masterpiece even more awesome.), you could definitely see some Sooner schooners speeding and Longhorns stampeding. With a little imagination (again, because I just didn't have the time...) you can perhaps see amongst the panicking horde at least three tigers, a wolverine, a large chestnut, some guys husking corn, a drunken feisty Irishman, a gator, at least one American Native who, for the purposes of not offending them, shall not be specifically identified, unless they don't mind at all, which in that case would be the Seminoles; a gator, an aggie, a red raider, at least one bear, maybe even a turtle. . . . and in the center of it all, one big obnoxious red elephant.

If it all turns out well, El Coloso Pato will be completed, enlarged and hung over my fireplace. Perhaps yours too? Place your orders.

WHY OREGON WILL BEAT STANFORD
I was expecting Oregon to be favored, perhaps by 3. I was surprised to see the spread at 10-1/2. But I think everyone is looking at one glaring fact.

Stanford is injured. Oregon is not.

According to this Oregonian story, Stanford's powerful defense took a huge hit when they lost their starting Defensive End Ben Gardner to a torn muscle against Oregon State. They are hoping to get back another starting DE, Henry Anderson, after he missed six weeks with a knee injury.

That right there reveals a problem. It's one thing to be back from injury able to play. But it's a whole 'nother matter to come back from six weeks of rehab and be healthy and conditioned enough to play against the rapid, powerful, and unrelenting wave that is the Oregon offense.

Stanford receiver Devon Cajuste is also injured. And while their much heralded receiver Ty Montgomery will play, is he at full strength? Reports were he was fighting pain in his lower body as late as last week. Against Oregon State he only had 3 catches for 55 yards and no TD's. Stanford is also down one kicker.

Don't get me wrong, the Cardinal are still potent. But while they're dealing with those issues, DeAnthony Thomas is healthy, eager to go, and promising 40 points. He only played the first half against UCLA before his ankle got sore again. I'm just wondering what if he plays one half again, this time the second?

Another factor in Oregon's favor: The most valuable person on Oregon's sideline that Stanford didn't face last year, Passing Coach Matt Lubick. Rated the best offensive coordinator of the year last year when Helfrich picked him up, Lubick has helped to stretch the field and give Mariota some spot-on downfield targets this year.

Last year, Stanford was successful in forcing Oregon into third and long. This year, third and long -- hell, even fourth and long -- are just other downs.

When Ken Goe asked San Jose Merc writer Jon Wilner "How is this Stanford team different from last year's team (that beat Oregon 17-14)?", Wilner started his answer, "Actually it's fairly similar." And he's right. After their loss to Utah, Stanford has worked to become about as good as they were last year.

But the bottom line is this. Oregon this year is flat out better than Oregon of last year. Mariota is better. DAT is better. Marshall is better. All the receivers are better. The defense is better. The kickers are . . . . . The defense is better!  And along with the addition of Coach Lubick, the Ducks have enjoyed the new talents of RB Thomas Tyner and Tight Ends Pharoah Brown and Johnny "The Mundster" Mundt.

Furthermore, the day after their loss to Stanford last year, Mariota led the team in studying, analyzing and learning what they did wrong in that game. They have been chomping at the bit ever since that day to make things right.

DAT's 40-point comment wasn't just loud mouth blathering. It was confidence. It was eagerness. He is picturing in his mind what he and his teammates are ready to do. And we know exactly how the Ducks will conquer the Cardinal because we have already seen them do it.

First down. "Oh you stopped the Ducks? Congratula-- ah oh, here comes second down. . . Incomplete! Hold that high-five, they just snapped the ball for third down . . . Gain of nine. HA, a yard short! Head for the Gatorade, they're done. WHAT? They're going for it!. . . . TOUCHDOWN!!!"

That's one series. Cram a bunch of those in one quarter. Then the second quarter. Still holding them? Good job. Here comes the third quarter. The game is still winnable. And look they're bringing in their third string bench warmer Thomas Tyner. . . .  

It is relentless.  Stanford can feel as good as they want about what they got away with last year. But all they did was kick a giant in the shin. Now he's coming. His shadow looms over the valley. And he doesn't stop. Doesn't hesitate. No mercy. No rest.

He pursues. He overwhelms. He suffocates. Finally, he crushes. And the lone tall tree, the Palo Alto, snaps in his fingers and digs in his molar to clear out whatever memory of last year's small Stanford victory was left.

In the end, that victory bore not a reward, but a terrible price. The wrath of

THE COLOSSUS.

Now crank it and stomp around your office like a big green, fire breathing monster!

Game time: Thursday, 6 pm Pacific on ESPN
--KB