Ducks Stomp the Buffaloes: First College Game Pits My Two Favorite States in Football Combat

Posted on November 14, 2022 by Martin Cooney, Stone Sculptor

Colorado, My Current State, Lose Heavily at Home to My Old State, Oregon

Come Along and Witness the Carnage For Yourself

Touchdown Hero. Please click on a photo to enlarge.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when my good friend Kelly invited me to attend a college Pak 12 football game to take place over the Rocky Mountains at Boulder’s famed Folsom Field. After all, I had never attended such an event in all my 34 years living in these United States. And when I learned that Colorado’s opponents were none other than Oregon, I was pleased as punch, for Oregon was the place we met as friends, and where I met Kris, oh so many years ago. Great. Now the die was set. We would cross the treacherous Rockies, through snow, wind and sleet, to witness The Mighty Ducks bring the Cocky Buffaloes to heel.

Upon our arrival at the stadium, it was almost as if everyone had been waiting for us to arrive before they could begin. For, as we parked and made our way through the spotless campus towards the towering lights, a sound could be heard, faintly at first and then distinctly, of a seemingly massive American marching band. And so it proved.

Following the band and entering the arena Pied Piper style, Kelly and I caught up with them rousing up the crowd with a gusto that only an American Marching Band can muster. Definately deafening, but played with such passion and verve that, surely their team would win. They all seemed very confident, even as they played to a largely Oregon away crowd. Indeed, this barn of a building actually appeared to be what we now know as the ‘away end’, in English football terminology. But, there they were, braisenly blasting out their confidence and swaggering their way down to the touchline as if to say, there, take that Ore-gone.

However, in good old American style, it was all taken with a great deal of fun and much merriment. These were Oregonians after all.

As the flamboyant band marched by, swinging their instruments and flags in the air, it soon became very apparent that this energetic troupe of youngsters was composed primarily of girls – college girls presumably, and that they appeared to march very well, as I was about to discover as they worked their flawless routines to perfection out there on the field.

It was clear for all to see that this band took its role very seriously indeed, and the resulting formations that they worked on the field left me very impressed. At one point, I watched in amazement as they perfectly executed an elaborate transformation into a complicated shape full of long lines and zig zags that, when I looked up at the building-sized screen, depicted a beautiful star-shaped electric guitar.

Please click on a photo to enlarge.

Making our way down to our seats, just six rows back from a very close touch line, I became aware that, whilst the stadium looked three quarters empty, it seemed that most fans were of the Oregon variety. Suddenly, I found myself right back with the people who I lived around for 15 years, back in the last century. But there they were, just as I remembered them; bright, cheery folks who ranged from pre-school to old school, families, friends, couples and singles, all appeared to be in fine voice and very much up for the game.

It was then that something happened that I could not possibly have conceived. For what was that I just saw? A bull? No, a buffalo. Of course, “The Buffs”, stands for buffaloes. The penny dropped. Now what? What could possibly happen next? Nothing prepared me for this, but before I knew it, my binoculars informed me that what I was actually gazing at was a massive buffalo held within a very solid looking steel cage. The next thing I knew the door had opened and four or five cowboys were racing alongside of the beast as they gallomped around the field taking massive strides at breakneck speed, holding on for life, wide-eyed and in full gallop.

It was at this point that Kelly informed me that both band and buffalo would be back for the half-time show, and that this pre-game performance was merely the ice breaker, the warmer upper, as it were. Good, because this is one spectacle that I never thought I would see, and now I get to see it not once, but twice. Also, what a rare opportunity to watch on as a wild looking buffalo pulls a bunch of men around a football field. But now I again get to witness a cowboy running around after them with what looks for all the world like a Colt 45, or some such, presumably loaded in case our frisky buff takes a turn for the worse or has some sort of bad day.

Later research revealed that the buffalo is called Ralphie, and that she, yes, she, is the sixth animal to perform this impressive stunt in a tradition that dates back to 1966, when the first Ralphie appeared on the touchline in a game between Colorado and Kansas State, with The Buffs winning 10-0. The next year it was decided to let the beast run out before the team in a game against Baylor, which lead to a 27-7 win. However, it was soon decided that letting a semi-wild buffalo loose on a football field surrounded by up to 50,000 people might not be the best idea in the world, and so the practice was changed to its present format, a tradition that has been upheld to the present day.

Like all Ralphies down through the years, she is one pampered animal indeed. Born on May 27, 2020 on a ranch in Nebraska belonging to Colorado alumnus Will Isham, she was raised by a beef cow after being rejected by her mother. She now lives on a secret ranch boasting the finest accommodations. She apparently has her own expansive pasture and grazes on natural grass. She has a ‘companion’ to keep her company, and although she has access to an indoor pen with state-of-the-art accommodations, she prefers to live her life outdoors at all times, even through the most atrocious Colorado winter storms. She’s just that kind of girl, I guess.

Those who tend Ralphie are known as Ralphie Handlers and are all varsity student-athletes who take her to her appearances, run with her and care for her year-round. On average, the handlers will log 20 to 30 hours of volunteer time per week training, practicing, carrying hay bales and caring for her. Plus, handlers have to sprint and lift weights twice a week, before class, in order to stay in sufficient shape to handle their beloved mascot on the field of play.

And when Queen Ralphie the Sixth travels it is much of the same story, as handlers tend to her every need. Riding in a custom-made trailer designed for her, she enjoys full insulation on both sides and the roof. Vents control the airflow and temperature, the walls are rubber lined, as is the floor, and the trailer is long enough for her to move and turn around, if she feels so inclined. Fresh water and the finest hay are always on hand, and each time she exits her trailer it is immediately cleaned in preparation for her return. All in all, I think you could say that she leads a very good life, indeed.

Before we knew it, the game was suddenly underway.

Within minutes of the start however, Oregon smashed through the Colorado defense like it wasn’t there, and almost immediately I thought I already knew just who was going to win this game, and why my Mighty Duck friends felt so downright jubilant on the day. This was going to be a long afternoon for The Buffs, and I think that, even at this early point, everyone knew it. Ominous signs indeed, and I don’t even know a thing about American Football, but I well understood the balance of play out there.

From our miraculously close touchline vantage, Kelly and I could witness The Mighty Duck’s confidence blossom and bloom with each passage of play. Everyone on the Oregon team below us clearly knew that their plan was going to unfold, perfectly. And with the roaring approval of an army of Oregonians howling in their ears.

To be honest, practically the entire first quarter conducted itself right under our noses, as Oregon dominated the play on the left side of their field like a bull amongst buffaloes, if that makes any sense. Probably doesn’t, but I digress. By the time the whistle blew to change ends, I think that the few Colorado fans around me were somewhat relieved to not have to witness the massacre unfold right before their eyes. However, aside from one touchdown reprieve, the afternoon was to deliver them a 10 to 49 defeat that I am sure most Buffs will be more than ready to forget.

Immediately upon the start of the second quarter a new reality set in, when binoculars were needed to savor the carnage and destruction that we had enjoyed right before our eyes in the first quarter. Without these magnificent magnifiers the play would have made no sense, at least to me. But with them, the game came to life quite clearly. And quite clearly, Oregon was on top, no matter which end they were battering.

Half time arrived with the happy knowledge that the extraordinary wealth of entertainment that we had been treated to in the pre-match warm up, would now be repeated and perhaps even superseded by events that were about to unfold. Firstly, the massive band began marching in impeccable straight lines, up and down the field with flawless precession. Then they would strike a perfect formation that would reveal itself on the massive screen, to the delight of the crowd. It was indeed a truly impressive display.

I’m not quite sure why the band never turned to face the away fans that they had paraded through in the band barn before the game, but they never did, throughout the half-time routine. Not once, which seemed a bit weird, and not a little rude. But once the band had exited the field, I delighted in knowing what would come next. The Buffalo run. This time I knew what was happening and could capture and savor it. For what a magnificent spectacle it presents, and one surely not repeated anywhere else in the world.

Within a moment, the massive buffalo was off again, sprinting around the arena like she just couldn’t wait to exit the place. And once again these brave men strapped themselves to this 400-pound magnificent beast, and run it around the field once again, but this time with the roar of the entire stadium in her ears. Let’s just say, she looked to be in a more immediate hurry than last time around. Or it could have been my imagination. Either way, hat’s off to these guys. Really, hats off gentlemen, you have my total respect.

What impressed me most about the buffalo run was the sheer speed at which it took place. A healthy young female like this can easily top 25 miles per hour. So just how those lads kept their feet, or stayed away from those menacing hoofs and horns, is a wonder to behold. How proud their parents must be.

Pretty soon, the second half was underway, and once again, the same outcome occurred. And not long into the third quarter I started to notice people leaving the stadium. Really? What kind of message will that bring? I was a bit shocked, to be honest. However, the wrath of the gods would not give up, and the entire second half rolled out with Oregon pounding at the Colorado defense. It was almost hard to watch.

The game was so obviously one-sided by now that, at one point, I turned to Kelly and said something like ‘this is going to be a massacre’, or words to that effect. “Imagine”, I said, “if this is the score now, what’s it going to be like by the full-time whistle?” To which he sagely replied, “this is a college game, I doubt that Oregon will go on and score many more.” What? To have your opponents by the throat and not ‘finish them off’ as it were. Unheard of. Nevertheless, he went on, “these are just young men, kids really, and no one is out to destroy them. It’s just a game.”

Just a game. I guess that is what makes college football the special entity that it is. That, at the end of the day, all in all, a college matchup is just that, a game. No more, no less, and an entertaining one at that.

In summation then. I really, very much enjoyed my first foray into American college football and can now appreciate the special place these games hold in the hearts of those who attend. It is also the place to find that good, old fashioned vigor of youth in full bloom. And at a time when cherished customs and traditions are often being abandoned and forgotten, in direct contrast, here we have an entire arena celebrating their customs and traditions for all the world to see.

However, there were a couple of details that I feel compelled to point out that, being an avid English football fan, strike me as a bit strange. Firstly, there is the price. These games are very expensive to attend, often in the range of a hundred dollars for the cheap seats, and skies the limit for the boxes. It just seems a bit steep to me if the game is to be relevant and inclusive to the community. Football in England starts at less than a third, or a quarter of that. And secondly, there was the food. Buffaloes, what are you doing serving such terrible, terrible food to your away fans, in this day and age? Fourteen-dollar beers, dingy food court, soggy, tasteless ten-dollar hot dogs. Seriously, I was digesting that awful bratwurst for days, but it was cold, and I was very hungry. In fact, what you’re offering in the band barn stands as the very worst and least healthy food I have ever faced in my entire life, anywhere in the world for that matter. In England we have something called stadium food that fills you up and keeps you warm throughout the game; pies, fish and chips, pizza, burgers and curries, all served at reasonable prices. I really suggest you look it up, because it is a very popular concept with the fans.

Other than that, the day was a tremendos, stupendous success. And with cheaper tickets and better food I would have no problem repeating the experience again someday. Sorry about the scoreline, but the show you put on was memorable, original and enjoyable indeed, and one that won’t be forgotten any time soon by this English football fan.