Trying to add a payment method? You can do this on the 
QuickTake:
Drew Mehringer inherits a loaded Oregon offense. But his approach — shaped by survival, perspective and relationships — may matter as much as any play he calls.
Drew Mehringer’s resume fits the job.
Oregon’s new offensive coordinator has been on staff for four seasons, knows the roster and already made his debut as a play caller a decade ago at Rutgers, where he became the youngest offensive coordinator in the then-Power 5.
The former quarterback began coaching after injuries ended his playing career at Rice. He studied under Urban Meyer as a graduate assistant at Ohio State. He learned from an unsuccessful year at Rutgers, coached in his home state at Texas and has been with Dan Lanning for every step of Oregon’s rise.
On paper, it all makes sense. But paper doesn’t really explain Drew Mehringer.
Mehringer’s office, tucked into a meticulously clean corner room on the fourth floor of the Hatfield-Dowlin Complex, looks like that of a football coach. There are whiteboards, TVs and memorabilia.
But it doesn’t smell like one.
Years ago, Meyer told him, “If someone was doing poorly, I bet their house is a dirty hole.” That stuck with Mehringer. So, too, has a lifestyle change that has Mehringer filling the room with the vapors of essential oils.
“My wife, she uses water filters, air filters — all those kinds of stuff — and we’re now eating super organic ingredients,” Mehringer said. “And at first I was like, ‘This is BS.’ But I don’t think that anymore. With all the information now available about brain health and physical health and inflammation and all those other things, I think that can make a huge difference.”
For Mehringer, perspective isn’t a choice — it’s a hard-earned survival trait. He’s been living with it since the spring of 2008, when a brain injury left him in a coma and his family wondering if he would survive the week.
A life-changing accident
I’ve talked to newly hired Oregon offensive coordinators about recruiting. I’ve talked to them about the pistol offense, tempo and the pressure that comes with being the offensive guy at the offensive school.
Not once in sit-downs with Matt Lubick, Marcus Arroyo or Joe Moorhead had I heard the word “existentialism.” That happened with Mehringer when I asked him about the head injury.
It happened back in April 2008 when Mehringer was 20. He and his friend Will Shoppa took a train from Fort Worth to Dallas to catch a Van Halen concert. After the show, they were running from the arena to the station to catch the train home when Mehringer tripped over a chain in a parking lot and smashed his head into the concrete. He was able to get up and stumble onto the train, but Shoppa quickly realized something was wrong and called for paramedics.
“Shout out Will Shoppa for getting the ambulance there,” Mehringer said.
Rushed to the hospital, Mehringer underwent emergency brain surgery after doctors found a skull fracture and a traumatic brain injury known as a contrecoup. He spent the next three days in a coma.
“They gave us four days to determine if he was going to live or die,” Mehringer’s dad, Eric, told the Star-Ledger in 2016. “You get past that hurdle and you’re thinking, ‘OK, great, he’s going to live.’ And then they give you the next bad set of news and it was, ‘We don’t know if he’s going to be mentally or physically handicapped.’”
After a week in the hospital, Mehringer was given a clean bill of health. And while Mehringer’s story isn’t just about the head injury, it’s impossible to explain him without the ensuing outlook he took from it.
First, there was perspective.
“I don’t think God is going to be asking me about my third-down percentage when I get there,” he said.
Then, there was focus.
Before the injury, Mehringer said he was pretty listless. Injuries derailed his playing career at Rice after one season, and he was working as a student assistant on the football staff to keep his scholarship.
“I’m unbelievably thankful for that moment in my life,” he said. “I think the direction I was headed down wasn’t a good one. It was going to end terribly at some point. How terribly? I don’t know. To be determined — well, I guess it was determined.”
Mehringer spent a lot of time thinking during his recovery. He thought of the world, his place in it and what he would do with his second act. And while he realized that football wasn’t everything, he knew it was a place where he could make a difference.
“I think at some point in everybody’s lives they struggle with some version of existentialism. Like, why am I on this Earth?” he said. “It’s a weird question. It took me a long time, but I think I’ve been put on this Earth to be involved in 18- to 23-year-old young men’s lives. For at least this part of my life. This season of my life.”
Mehringer has plenty on his plate this season in Eugene. He takes over an offense that returns stars like quarterback Dante Moore, receiver Dakorien Moore, running back Jordon Davison and tight end Jamari Johnson. Oregon averaged 36.9 points per game in 2025 and Mehringer is under pressure to ensure Oregon’s talent reaches its potential on the field.
But Mehringer still carries with him lessons from his injury, ones he thinks can give an offense staying power.
He tries to keep meetings under 30 minutes, knowing better than most that life is too short for something that could have been addressed in an email. He trusts the relationships and instincts of his assistant coaches — his relationship with Shoppa 18 years ago is why he’s still here today.
And while production and scheme and results are what Mehringer will ultimately be graded by, he believes being the coach who is there for players during times of success, struggle and adversity leads to all of those things in the long term.
Take star tight end Kenyon Sadiq for example. I met with Mehringer right after Oregon’s pro day, where dozens of scouts showed up to watch an athlete who checks all the right boxes when it comes to athleticism, size and strength. He’s a projected first-round draft pick in the NFL draft.
But Sadiq had his doubts over the years, Mehringer said. Despite all the talent in the world, he faced his own struggles. In those moments when Sadiq needed a clean office that smelled like a spa and an open ear to talk to, do you think they were just talking about routes?
Do you think Dante Moore, who penned a letter to Oregon Gov. Tina Kotek earlier this month about mental health, was going to want to return to play for a coach who didn’t put life at the forefront?
Sadiq called Mehringer the “glue.” Mehringer said he’s just teaching what he knows.
“Why do I exist here? I think that’s a huge reason why I exist here,” he said. “I think once you get outside that, once you start making it about like, this is me and my offense and any of that stuff, you lose everything all in one sweeping moment. You lose perspective. You lose the relationship and the connection and all the stuff really behind this place that makes it go.”
