Burn Before Reading: With Oregon Fall Camp Starting, Beware of One Type of Update

In just a few hours the Ducks hit the field for the first practice of fall camp. Excitement, eagerness and optimism for this squad could not be higher. They start the season as the deepest and most talented team Oregon has ever had.

At Duck Media Day Dillon Gabriel said, "I think we know if we put this thing together the right way we'll be right where we want to be, but there's steps to take to get to that point--we can't skip any steps. So I think focusing on that, staying together as a team and enjoying the process of it."

The process is a little harder to enjoy when you're sore and the thermometer hits 97, but this group has goals: Individual goals of working toward their football dreams, continuing in the game at the highest level, team goals of "playing on that certain day" as Gabriel elliptically put it, playing for the national championship.

Success isn't the championship. Success is all the increments of hard work it takes to get there, stacking days, stacking reps, film study, weight room, practice. Constant competition. On media day every one of these players talked about how they push each other, but they also talked about the togetherness in their units. Kobe Savage noted Saturdays the defensive backs go out for chicken and waffles. "There's a spot we like," he said.

Josh Conerly observed that one of the strengths of Oregon's offensive line lies in its diversity. "We've got quiet guys; we've got loud guys. We have players from all over the country." Indeed, a quick check of the depth chart confirms this: Oregon's Joe Moore Award Watch List starting five hails from Harlem, Chicago, Honolulu, Memphis and Seattle. But the goal is to achieve a Five-As-One mentality. It works: In both 2022 and 2023 the Ducks offensive line allowed just five sacks each season. Last year they were the drive train of a rushing attack that stacked up 2583 yards and 33 touchdowns, 5.91 yards per carry. There's little doubt that a unit like that is ready for the Big Ten.

Another type of competition begins every August. For reporters there's a paucity of news. Practices are closed. Coaches are tight-lipped, wary of anything that might give aid and comfort to the enemy. Oh, they'll come out every day to the walkway in front of the Hatfield-Dowlin Center and answer questions, but the answers are guarded and heavily steeped in generalities. Specifics are strictly discouraged.

If the political leaders in our nation's capital ever decided to deal seriously with the issues of emails, documents and classified secrets, one of them ought to give the job to a former football coach. Coaches hate leaks. They despise discussing strategy. And they won't-won't ever-talk about injuries.

Football is a collision sport. It's played by big, fast, strong, agile athletes who hit each other at 20-22 miles an hour. If you remember your high school physics about force vectors, that's like repeatedly hitting a brick wall at 44 miles an hour.

Because of the demands of the game, injuries are inevitable. The first three days of practice are non-contact per NCAA rules, but after that, football is a story of dings and nicks and bumps and bruises, and there isn't a day from August to December that an athlete takes the field without a certain amount of discomfort. Particularly for running backs. To do their jobs and run the way they do, they just learn to push through the small hurts, and even a few of the big ones.

The lid on concrete information turns reporters into super sleuths. Typically only the first 10 to 15 minutes of practice is open for viewing, often no more than some stretching, kicks and punts, a few pass patterns. So the veterans and the cognoscenti in the press gaggle become adept at recording who's absent, who's wearing a red noncontact jersey, who's working with trainers on the side.

Consequently, every practice report gets filled with minutia about who is in a stage of recovery.

This constitutes a scoop, but it isn't significant, at least not as significant as it's made out to be. It really doesn't tell us anything, because a recovery period in August could be normal or just an aberration. The focus should be on the progress and the process, not on who had to miss a day or a week.

The other part is, it's an encroachment on an athlete's privacy. His family is listening, and sometimes this involves information that's private and personal. His body, his choice, as it were.

I'm waiting for the day an athlete takes a limited workout because he has a strained buttocks muscle. Post practice, he gets badgered about his status and he turns to the reporter and says, "I really don't like talking about my gluteus, James, and the fact that you keep asking me about it is a little creepy."

Don't obsess over injuries. Coaches don't want to talk about them, and the treatment just has to run its course.