Fans stream onto the field at Eugene's Autzen Stadium just after the Oregon Ducks beat the Ohio State Buckeyes 32-31 on Oct. 12, 2024.

The goalposts at Autzen Stadium survived the Oregon Ducks’ win over Ohio State but my bag of caramel corn was a casualty.

College football can be funny that way.

I was standing beside my brother, Michael, watching fans stream onto the field as the scoreboard clock showed zeros and the two other numbers that matter.

Oregon 32.

Ohio State 31.

I reached beneath the bleachers for the caramel corn. I had eaten only a few handfuls and was looking forward to sweet munching during the gleeful drive back to Salem.

But I realized that a Duck fan in the row above, in his celebratory gesticulations, had spilled copious quantities of beer. The brew — an IPA, I suspect, based on the potency of the hop aroma — had created a foamy waterfall, and my caramel corn was in the path.

I love caramel corn.

I like beer.

But the combination, not to mention the clinging odor of ale, was not appetizing.

I have watched probably 50 games at my alma mater.

The first was in 1988, my freshman year at the U of O.

I have left the stadium with ringing ears and stinging throat many times.

Sometimes I was disappointed.

More often, as was the case about 8 p.m. on Saturday, Oct. 12, I was elated in the aftermath of a Ducks win.

It was the first game I’ve attended in more than a decade.

And I was fortunate enough to return, after my longest absence since that first visit as an undergraduate, for the most anticipated game since the stadium opened in 1967.

Probably the loudest, too.

Definitely the most crowded.

Stadium announcer Don Essig revealed the record-breaking attendance during a timeout in the second half: 60,129.

My brother’s longtime friend, Scott Kelley, works for Oregon’s athletic department and he offered his two game tickets to Michael, who in turned invited me.

And so there I was, just a couple sections from where my dad and brother had season tickets for about 20 years, watching the Ducks beat the Buckeyes, one of the more hallowed programs in college football history, in the first match up between the teams as members of the same conference, the Big 10.

(Which, in the perverse math that has long defined college athletic departments, has 18 members.)

The game, as I said to Michael as we weaved our way through the crowd toward the bus that took us to our parking spot in Springfield, was that rarest of sporting events — one that, if anything, exceeded the pre-game hype.

A dominating win is of course pleasurable for its lack of tension.

But I also relish victories that so often, and indeed up to the final handful of seconds, seemed improbable.

Ohio State scored the first touchdown.

The Buckeyes led most of the game.

Each time Oregon took the lead — at 15-14, 22-21 and 29-28 — Ohio State responded with a touchdown or a field goal.

Until the last time.

I have always, and will always, consider Oregon State the chief rival.

No other is even close for me.

The many Civil War victories I’ve watched at Autzen occupy a separate shelf in my memories.

But the win over Ohio State surpasses every non-Civil War game I’ve seen in person.

Except the game, for me, isn’t the most memorable thing that happened in the stadium.

When Michael and I got to our seats we both noticed the couple sitting in the row just below. I put them in their 70s.

In particular we noticed the man’s ballcap. The fabric was the scarlet that, along with gray, is the Buckeyes’ color. There were words stitched on the back of the cap. The man was a member of Ohio State’s 1973 team, which, like so many Buckeye squads, played in the Rose Bowl.

Michael started the conversation.

The man is David Hazel. He was a wide receiver and played in not only one Rose Bowl but in three.

He answered questions from a couple of Ducks with grace.

It seemed to me that he was pleased someone would be interested enough, after seeing the ballcap, to ask.

He and his wife of course celebrated each of the Buckeyes’ touchdowns and other big plays.

I felt not a shred of the annoyance that usually plagues me when I watch the opposing team’s fans exchange high-fives in Autzen.

Rather, I felt lucky to have met someone whose connection with Ohio State might well have been unique among the 60,129 people in the stands.

Hazel’s presence made a memorable experience that much richer.