Thursday
Editor in chief: jack Clifford
Managing Editor: Jessica Blanchard
Newsroom: (541)346-5511
Room 300, Erb Memorial Union
P.O. box 3159, Eugene, OR 97403
E-mail: ode@oregon.uoregon.edu
EDITORIAL EDITOR: MICHAEL J. KLECKNER opededitor@journalist.com
Pick up a reading Hobbit
STEREOTYPE
REBECCA NEWELL
With the conclusion of
finals two weeks ago
and 10 homework
and class-free days
stretching ahead, I decided to in
dulge myself during spring break. I
wasn’t flying off to get obnoxiously
inebriated in Cancun, or to back
pack through parts of Europe, or
even hitting the slopes in Tahoe
(which the rest of my family hap
pened to be doing without me). A
new job had me anchored to Eu
gene during the prized week of
freedom college students look for
ward to, but I was eagerly looking
forward to catching up with an old
friend ... a good book.
When I was a child, books kept
me company on the bus ride to
school, intrigued me during boring
lectures in school (hidden safely in
a text book), were my dining com
panions as I ate breakfast, and suf
focated under the covers with me
as I read with a flashlight, one ear
listening for the approaching foot
steps of the parent patrol.
Determined to catch up on old
times with my old friend, I enthu
siastically set out for Knight Li
brary, armed with a wish list of the
books that would claim my free
time during the break. A Dean
Koontz novel, something by Toni
Morrison, and yes, even Nora
Roberts. But most of all, I was look
ing forward to re-reading J.R.R.
Tolkien, creator of “The Hobbit”
and “Lord of the Rings.”
After seeing a trailer for the cine
matic release of the trilogy (which
I desperately hope beats the disap
pointment of the return of the
“Star Wars” movies), I decided I
had to re-read the novels. It’s been
a decade since I pored over the
pages of Tolkien’s masterpieces,
which hold a special place for me,
as my dad read them as a young
man and named his first boat after
Gandalf, the wise wizard from The
Hobbit. My family’s first dog was
named Brandy after the Brandy
wine River, one of the landmarks
in Bilbo’s adventures.
Back at Knight Library, I located
the Tolkien area and browsed the
shelves, scanning them for the de
sired titles. And failed miserably.
The two copies of “The Hobbit”
were checked out and the two
shelves containing Tolkien’s works
included his biography and
dozens upon dozens of collections
of his notes or scholarly opinions
about his writing.
But I didn’t want to read why he
chose to name the hobbit “Bilbo”
instead of “Bozo” or what an Ox
ford professor thought of Gollum. I
wanted to form my own opinions
about the story and the characters.
And I didn’t want to spend beau
coup bucks at Borders for the set,
so I took my first trip to the Eugene
Public Library.
After I failed miserably at find
ing my way around the library
(sadly enough, I’m practically a
college graduate), I enlisted the
guidance of the children’s section
librarian (at the counter marked
“HELP!”). She pointed me in the
right direction, toward dozens of
Tolkien books — actual works of
fiction, not notes — distributed in
both the young adult and chil
dren’s section.
I was so excited to actually find
the books after the fruitless search
on campus, I wasn’t even fazed by
the fact I was hauling an armful of
“children’s books” — I think
Tolkien can be enjoyed by all ages.
As I exited the library, I clutched
my new library card almost as fer
vently as I had my ID on my 21st
birthday. After all, both were open
ing new possibilities for me,
though the library card was proba
bly a bit more productive.
As I headed off to the nearest
coffee shop to indulge in my new
books, I reflected over the irony of
the situation. The University was
n’t able to provide me with the
tools needed to fulfill my literary
desire, and our library, which
boasts thousands upon thousands
of volumes of books, wasn’t able to
offer some classics to its patrons.
Memorizing the timeline of the
French-Indian War or the scholar
ly opinion on Shakespeare’s “Tam
ing of the Shrew,” while beneficial
to our overall general knowledge
and education, probably fails to ig
nite our creative spirit or our imag
ination. So don’t expect to get all
of your literary needs fulfilled by
the assigned reading from your
classes, or even from a list of the
greatest American novels.
Instead, head down to the local
library and thumb through the
dog-eared, well-loved pages of
some of your old favorites, or se
lect a random book to dive into.
Not only is the check-out time a
month, but you won’t have to sell
your textbooks to be able to pay
hefty late fees that (ahem) some ac
ademic libraries charge. Nourish
your literary needs with some
reading you choose.
Rebecca Newell Is a columnist for the Ore
gon Daily Emerald. Her views do not nec
essarily represent those of the Emerald.
She can be reached at rnewell@glad
stone.uoregon.edu.
Runge v. public opinion: a conspiracy theory?
Guest Commentary
George
Beres
Title IX legislation almost a genera
tion ago gave long overdue athletics
opportunities to women as players.
But after seeing the cavalier way the
current Oregon women’s basketball coach,
Jody Runge, has been treated by University
administrators, maybe similar legislation is
needed to assure a fair shake for women
coaches.
By any yardstick of wins and losses, coach
Runge has been a roaring success. The victo
ry over Oregon State in the game that closed
the regular season marked her 100th Pacific
10 Conference triumph, a feat achieved by
only two other coaches in the league. Her
teams have earned eight straight NCAA-tour
ney appearances and have won almost 70
percent of their games (160-72).
There is another side to the question that
has left Runge’s position in jeopardy. Eight of
her players (unnamed) met with Athletic Di
rector Bill Moos to complain about Runge’s
coaching style. Maybe their charges justify
Runge being fired. I have not heard them and
am in no position to judge.
What I do know suggests a male coach in a
similar situation would get different treat
ment while the “jury is out.” A director
would postpone other commitments, such as
the fund-raising trip that had Moos in Palm
Springs, Calif., the entire week after the
meeting with players.
Equally disturbing is the stance taken by
The Register-Guard sports columnist Ron Bel
lamy, which has stirred enough community re
action that executive editor Jim Godbold de
voted a Sunday column to it. It is reassuring to
know Godbold gives complete independence
to columnists, such as Bellamy, whose writing
on Runge stirred anger among many readers.
But I wonder if Bellamy’s deserved independ
ence on the staff is matched by independence
from the big player on his beat—Oregon varsi
ty athletics.
I ask because the day after the paper re
ported the player meeting with Moos, Bel
lamy’s column announced: “It’s over. She’s
gone.” For me, it had a familiar ring. The
week before Runge’s predecessor, Elwin
Heiny, was fired by then athletic
director/football coach Rich Brooks, Bel
lamy’s column said it was time for Heiny to
be replaced.
Discomforting as it sometimes might be, a
columnist has that privilege. But I wondered
about the coincidence. My guess is the writer
might have been asked by both directors to
grease the skids for controversial actions
they were planning.
Sound like paranoia? Maybe. But my expe
rience when I became Oregon sports informa
tion director 25 years ago feeds suspicions. At
the time, The Register-Guard still was an after
noon paper. The sports editor/columnist,
Blaine Newnham, made an understandable
pitch: Would I arrange to release all significant
announcements for p.m. deadlines? I may
have been new, but I knew that would not be
welcomed by Geoige Pasero, sports editor of
The Oregonian, nor by the Oregon Daily Emer
ald, both morning papers. I also knew it was
unfair. I told him my policy was to alternate
major announcements between morning and
evening deadlines.
That didn’t disturb Newnham. He contin
ued to get early alerts on stories from an as
sistant athletic director, Lew Cryer, who ig
nored my release schedules.
No big deal, I guess, except for George
Pasero and the Emerald. But maybe that’s
why I can’t help but suspect that the pub
lished report, “She’s gone,” is another collab
oration between the writer and someone at
the University.
George Beres is a former Oregon sports information
director, former editor of the University of Oregon fac
ulty newsletter and former manager of the University
Speakers Bureau. Retired, he now writes on the histo
ry of college sports. He can be reached at gberes@ore
gon.uoregon.edu.