He has no reason to be on the Oregon football practice field, let alone standing smack dab in the middle of the team’s stretching circle.
Right?
Really though, why is Seth Ford, all of five-foot-six and maybe 150 pounds, leading all 115-plus Oregon players in a cheer?
Here’s the better question: Could anybody imagine him anywhere else?
Ford is a 1999 Sheldon High School graduate who has worked as a manager for the team since 2000. When the Sheldon boys’ basketball team finished sixth at the state tournament in 1998, Ford was on the bench as a manager. Mike Bellotti heard about Ford through his connections at Sheldon (his two oldest children graduated from the Eugene school), and offered him a job.
Realize, he’s been a diehard Duck since well before many of the current players even considered Oregon. His favorite player of all time is Joey Harrington, but he says Terence Scott and Justin Roper are his current favorites. His family has season tickets, allowing him to watch every home game. When he’s not on the practice field, he works for the Student Recreation Center in Gerlinger Hall doing laundry.
Also to be taken into consideration: The 27-year-old has Down syndrome, the chromosomal disorder that can result in a range of developmental disabilities.
He has a unique side-to-side gait that lopes across the field, walking between the players who are often a foot taller than him. He’s quick to answer a question, but the question might have to be repeated a few times.
But for about three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, you’d be hard pressed to find any trace of these disabilities.
When the players arrange to stretch, it’s Ford who stands in the middle. When they’re finished, every player claps in unison, with Ford’s voice cutting through the noise with chants of, “Offense!” and “Defense!” to which each unit responds with a respective grunt. Like he’s signaling a first down, he points his arms at each unit during his yell.
Granted, the words can get a little hard to understand from time to time, but they’re not really the important part, are they? Just the fact that he’s been out here for eight years doing the little things – like signaling if practice field goals are good or not, holding up signs with the offensive play and packing the travel truck with gear – should show everyone how much he wants, no, needs, the Ducks to win.
Of course, there’s one other thing, too.
Since 2006, Ford has given a speech at the team dinner on the Thursday before a game. Nathan Woods, a student manager for the past five years, echoed the consensus that Ford’s first few speeches were rocky and rattled with nerves. (Quick poll: How would you do in that environment?) Now it’s a Thursday night staple, with the veterans, used to the talks, following his lead and getting fired up.
Woods might know him the best of anyone besides the coaches, having given Ford a ride home nearly every night when he started as a manager. More responsibilities mean less time to drive him back; their drives are now limited to about once a week.
But their conversations haven’t changed much.
“We always talk about the next coming week’s game,” Woods said. “And we always get into what he’s having for dinner and what TV he’s watching.”
He has at least two years left on his original handshake contract, which said he would work for 10 years. That’s assuming both he and the Oregon football family can find a way to operate without the other. Since the speeches began, they’ve become a ritual that never ceases to cheer Oregon on to a win.
Deep down, they’re about convincing the players to believe in themselves, no matter how they look and no matter what anyone else thinks.
And if you think about it, nobody knows that message better than he does.
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