How it feels to be a Duck

It is the morning after Oregon’s worst home loss since the beginning of the Carter administration…and I couldn’t be more nostalgic.

By Andrew Pridgen

I first came to know the University of Oregon in the fall of 1993. I was a freshman in Eugene and those first 90 days between drop-off and Thanksgiving were as eventful and defining as any in my life.

I got a group of guys lost on campus looking for a party and a few of them ended up becoming friends for life. I took a drama course with the girl from Always Sunny and never said a word to her outside of class. I got my first incomplete. It was in comparative literature. The professor wrote on my midterm, “Please proof. None of what you wrote makes sense.” During her office hours, I argued it was all lesbian literature and I couldn’t relate—and that sealed…