Commentary

Jack Riley stayed in Corvallis after his 22 years as coach of the Oregon State baseball team.

You might catch a glimpse of him around town or mowing the lawn. Chances are you won’t find Riley at Goss Stadium taking in a game.

Visit Riley’s house and you won’t find much evidence of his coaching career. If any old jerseys or trophies remain, they have been packed away to make room for his wife’s passion for collecting.

A bowl of pool balls sits on the coffee table. Shelves hold a variety of knickknacks. Downstairs holds the big one, a Coca-Cola collection complete with figurines, signs, drinking glasses and cans and bottles of all sizes and shapes, many still full of the sweet soda. Some come from events such as the Rose Bowl, others from nations around the globe.

The lone hint at Riley’s baseball past is a collection of mitts strung across the cellar ceiling. Riley, however, is not a collector.

“I’m a handyman,” Riley said.

Baseball is no longer the driving force of Riley’s life. His absence at the games has been noticed. Some assume there’s a story behind it, that Riley’s angry or bitter.

Absolutely not.

He’s just, well, retired.

For 22 years, Riley worked not only to keep the program around, but to reach level ground.

Just as a retired auto factory worker probably wouldn’t go back to watch the latest model go down the line, Riley isn’t overly inclined to hang out at the ballpark.

“I’ve seen enough pitches to last me a couple lifetimes,” he said.

The past 14 years have been time to focus on family, to spend time with his wife, son and daughter and eight grandchildren. They travel, going to Mexico with daughter Pam and her family, or Australia to visit son Mickey, who is in the midst of a three-year-long fight against Lou Gehrig’s Disease.

They often spend time in Arizona for a break from the Oregon drizzle.

A baseball game has become another event he can take a grandson to or a place to spend a few hours with some friends.

Riley doesn’t ignore the game, however. He watched every inning of the Beavers’ two runs through the College World Series.

After all, he helped the program get there.

When Riley arrived at OSU from Lower Columbia College in the early 1970s, the Beavers were at a big disadvantage. Schools in sun-drenched states could play far more games than OSU by starting their season several months earlier.

Riley recalled one season in which San Diego State played 93 games to OSU’s 32.

To make the situation even more difficult, the Pac-8 split into northern and southern divisions after the 1969 season. A rift quickly developed.

“We’d go south and they’d have 20 games played and we were just coming out of the fieldhouse,” Riley said. “We fought to keep improving baseball. They had a north-south playoff and every year it was played in the south. They would never come north to play in a playoff, even if we would win. Their fourth-place team would still get a berth over the champion in the north.”

Financial support was slim. The Beavers were operating with a handful of scholarships and often had to raise funds to travel.

Riley found himself fighting a battle on two fronts. The program was cut and then reinstated twice.

“It was a choppy time for Oregon State athletics,” he said. “I’ve always told people the biggest win we had was keeping baseball.”

Earl Chiles eventually stepped in with money for more scholarships and in the mid-1980s the Beavers strung together some strong seasons. The stigma of the north divison remained and that was just fine with the south programs.

Riley, along with Washington State coach Bobo Brayton and Washington coach Bob McDonald wanted change. They wanted the schools to merge back into one full conference, but the south division schools voted it down every year.

“They snubbed their nose at the north all the time,” Riley said.

There were some minor tiffs between north and south coaches. Riley said Stanford coach Mark Marquess was particularly unpopular in the Pacific Northwest.

“We had some run-ins with Marquess and I told him, ‘Your turn’s coming,’ ” Riley said.

Riley finished his time at OSU in 1994 with a 613-411-5 record, the most wins by an OSU baseball coach.

The change he worked for eventually came. Seasons were limited and the north and south divisions were joined going into the 1999 season.

The moves opened the door for the Beavers to break through.

“I was a little vindictive because we fought those guys down there to try to get equality and they’d outvote us 6 to 4,” Riley said. “The presidents jumped in because the coaches and the athletic directors never would have let the north come in. They were afraid that what has happened was going to happen. That has been gratifying to see, especially for Oregon State.”

Riley said the rule changes and OSU’s two national titles have changed the face of college baseball. Parity will arrive. Programs in colder climes now have the incentive to work toward a title.

“To think that a team in the Northwest could win two consecutive World Series with all the disadvantages (is amazing),” he said. “One of my philosophies is that you cannot win with things negative. You just can’t. You have to have positive things around you.”

Oregon State’s success sparked the University of Oregon to give baseball a go.

Riley is just fine with the return of OSU’s rivals, but questions the concept of spending big money to kick start a program.

“I felt it should have been back a long time before,” he said. “They tried many times to get it back, they just didn’t have the right scenario, and Oregon State’s success was the right scenario.”

When the right scenario comes along, Riley will make his way back to the ballpark to catch a game or two.

For now, he’s enjoying his retirement.

“They try to get me over there and I’ll probably weaken someday, but some of the memories aren’t that great,” he said. “Every day was a battle for me going to work, trying to get something more for baseball.”

Kevin Hampton is a sports reporter and writes a weekly column for the Gazette-Times. He can be reached at kevin.hampton@lee.net.