In the military, the “Section 8” discharge refers to the relief of duty of a soldier deemed mentally unfit for service. How appropriate, then, that Section 8 in Autzen Stadium encompasses part of the Oregon student section.
When USC takes the field against Oregon at 5 p.m. Saturday, the mainstays of Section 8, the brazen and passionate student fans of the Ducks, fully costumed and sufficiently incensed, will release their own special brand of crazy upon the Trojans.
“It is gonna be anarchy,” said Ben Hollander, a senior fan. “It is gonna be mayhem. It is gonna be a giant riot. It is gonna be complete hell for any fan of theirs. It’s gonna be a victory for them if they can get all their fans and players on the plane that night or the next morning.”
We hereby introduce you to a small cadre of Oregon’s most passionate student fans, a group determined to give USC the fright of its life.
Max Siemers
Max Siemers’ sister, Ceanna, first introduced him to Duck games when she was a student. Siemers recalls his first time through Alton Baker Park and through the horde of tailgaters with fond memories.
“I fell in love with Autzen at first sight,” he said.
Part of Siemers’ game-day dress — he wears a jersey, basketball shorts, armbands and a hat coordinated to the Ducks’ color scheme — are his Nike-ID shoes, which read “Autzen” on the left heel and “127.2” on the right. The 127.2 refers to the decibel reading recorded at Oregon’s 2007 win in Autzen over Arizona State.
Cameron Mertens
Cameron Mertens’ father, Dave, bought an Oregon season ticket package for his family for the 1999 college football season. The then-11-year-old Cameron made it to every single game that season.
And every single game the next season. And every one since.
“I think it’s close to 70 consecutive games,” said Mertens, a senior sociology major, about his attendance streak at Autzen.
The Salem native is hard to miss in the student section for his traditional outfit — an Oregon jersey (he owns 23, 17 from football), sweats, a green wig and a straw hat — let alone his various props. Mertens has added a green light saber and an Oregon medal from the 2008 Olympic Trials to his ensemble. He also painted a sledgehammer, modeled after the one used from Oregon’s 2007 defeat of Michigan in the Big House, which (surprisingly) has not made it through the front gates with him.
Green Man
Oregon’s “newest” superfan has racked up television appearances faster than Kenny Rowe has sacks this season, leading everyone to speculate: Who is Green Man?
Green Man, who declined to publish his real name, took his cue from the popular television show “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia” (it’s the costumed alter-ego of Charlie Kelly). He was named student fan of the game in the Ducks’ first home contest this season, against Purdue, and he stuck with the persona.
The question on most people’s minds when they see Green Man is: Is he able to breathe or see? “It’s like looking through a shirt,” he said. “I pretty much watch Duckvision.”
David Gooze
With his green wig, “Pit Happens” shirt, Mardi Gras-approved beads, Japanese soccer horn and endless energy, David Gooze has made himself recognizable among the student fan cognoscenti.
To most alumni, however, the native of Oregon, Wisc. — seriously — is better known as the son of Rob Gooze, who was a student manager for the “Kamikaze Kids,” the Oregon men’s basketball team of 1974-75. The members include Greg Ballard and Ernie Kent. The Kamikaze Kids were inducted into the Oregon Athletics Hall of Fame in 1996, with Rob Gooze among them.
Alex Horwitch
The sophomore from Calabasas, Calif., is possibly the most conflicted of the superfans as the USC game approaches.
Horwitch, a sophomore journalism major, grew up in a Trojan household. His mother attended the school, and his grandfather played football for the Trojans in the 1930s.
“Well,” Horwitch said, “he won a national championship ring. But he’ll tell you he never played a minute.”
Horwitch grew up on college football games in the Coliseum but has since discovered the
Autzen experience since arriving on campus.
“You think it gets loud (in the Coliseum),” he said. “… It’s a wall of sound. Everything is on top of you (in Autzen).”
Ben Hollander
Ben Hollander, a senior from Eugene by way of Chicago and Guam, was vacationing in Hawaii during last year’s spring break when he saw a street vendor selling coconut bras painted with the logos of several college teams.
He commissioned a bra from the street vendor, and he now owns three more coconut bras, all ensconced with the Oregon O. His Hawaiian-style sarong, beer tab, shell necklaces and wild blond hair make him a Polynesian deity of superfandom that raises eyebrows everywhere he goes.
“It’s really fun to get people’s reactions on the road,” he said. “It’s like, ‘Holy crap, I thought our fans were hardcore.’ It just goes to show how much on the next level we are.”
Ryan Hodges
Physically imposing — he was a former offensive and defensive lineman in high school — and calm in demeanor, Ryan Hodges may be considered the strong and silent type of superfan. That is, until the game begins.
“I couldn’t do it any other way,” Hodges said of cheering on the Ducks. “Not being one would be strange.”
Hodges, a senior human physiology major, grew up a Duck fan early on. His mother, Shellie, and grandfather, Thomas King, were both Oregon graduates. Not surprisingly, he counts the 2008 Civil War among his favorite games attended as an Oregon student because “killing them was awesome (and) ruining their Rose Bowl dreams made it even better.” (Hodges’ father, Dave, an Oregon State graduate, surely wasn’t too pleased.)
dUckbOy
First of all, note the spelling. It’s not Duck Boy, or Duckboy, but dUckbOy.
If fandom is bred from nativity, dUckbOy is the salt of the earth in Eugene. He was born in Sacred Heart Medical Center, University District, and has attended Duck football games his entire life.
The nickname? It stuck at an early age, and has since evolved.
dUckbOy, who also refused to use his real name for this story, is most notable for the first thing his opposition sees — his Mexican wrestling masks.
“Each mask is handmade and takes four to six days to make,” he said.
“I’ve been going to Duck games my entire life and I can think of no better way to spend a Saturday than in Autzen, barely able to hear yourself think.”
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Section 8
Daily Emerald
October 28, 2009
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