One of the first things you notice, as on outsider coming into Eugene, is that Donald Duck® is everywhere.
Sorry, not actually Donald, but his country cousin, the UofO Duck (a green suited copy of Donald actually licensed from Disney®). And I do mean everywhere. Every business has The Duck painted on it’s window. The majority of the cars are plastered on some spot with a sticker of The Duck. Homeless people begging by the roadside will end their cardboard painted plea for sustenance with a picture of The Duck and a hearty (or desperate?) “Go Ducks!” The Duck mascot beat up another mascot at one of the football games, was barred from the following two games by the NCAA, and for that the townsfolk, in all their wisdom, decided that he was a celebrity. This is The Duck’s town.
Being the only game in town, even people living here who never set foot on the university proper will discard their alma mater and root for The Duck. And watching the foaming-mouth frenzy of fans who’s only link to the UofO is proximity caused a physical reaction in me. I find it hard to wear green or yellow. Gifts of UofO clothing or Duck paraphernalia have always been discarded (after being politely received, of course).
My main response was to start to wear the heraldry of my own alma mater everywhere, as a retort to the sea of green and yellow surrounding me. And never in all the years since I graduated from USC have I been as much a Trojan as I’ve been in the years that I’ve been living here. Not even while I was going to school. And so The Duck, by my opposition to him, has in ways defined me.
WTF.
Welcome To My Ego 