EUGENE, Ore. -- Easter at Charles Nelson's home was never fair if you were a child not named Charles.

He held no deference for his older sister, Ayana. And he didn’t take pity on his younger brother, Malachi.

For Charles it was all-out war and the splendors came in the form of plastic ovals placed around the yard.

“He would always jet off to find the eggs,” Malachi said. “Me and my older sister Ayana, we’d only come back with five eggs a piece. He’d have like 15.”

It wasn’t about the candy. For Charles, it was simply about having the most eggs. Every egg he got was one that his siblings couldn’t get, giving him a greater chance to “win” Easter.

But it wasn’t just Easter he wanted to “win.” At birthday parties, he had to be the one to crush the piñata. When Malachi finally taught Charles how to ride a dirt bike, Charles cranked it full speed, ran into a picnic table and had to get stitches.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s wrestling an adult or playing Go Fish with a baby,” said Cassie Goodwin, his mother. “He wants to win.”

“Why would anyone want to lose?” Charles said. “I always want to win.”

It’s that kind of an attitude that has put Nelson in the running as the most explosive playmaker, inch for inch, in the country. And now, Nelson is bringing his skill set, attitude and yes, even his size (the athletic department lists him at 5-foot-8, which might be a smidge generous), to another spot on the field.

With Oregon feeling strongly about its depth at wide receiver and less so about its depth in the secondary, the coaches approached Nelson about a possible move to defensive back during the offseason.

In some ways it has felt natural since he played on defense most of his childhood. But, if he’s being completely honest, it has been a bit stressful to try and learn an entirely new playbook, different techniques and Oregon’s defensive verbiage. And it’s not as though he left a position at which he hadn’t found success. Perhaps if he hadn’t been getting playing time and if defensive back were a place that he could crack into the rotation, then the unfamiliarity of the position would be a bit less daunting.

But that’s not the case.

Last fall Nelson starred on special teams before his hard-hitting play forced the hands of the coaching staff to get him on the field on offense. After recording just five catches through the first 10 games of the season, he exploded, finishing the season with 23 receptions for 327 yards and five touchdowns. From mid-November on, there were only five Pac-12 wide receivers who accounted for more yardage than Nelson.

His thirst for competition -- even before he became a primary receiver in the Oregon offense -- led him to challenge any wide receiver in the meeting room. He wanted to race Devon Allen, who won the USATF Outdoor 110-meter hurdle title last summer. He challenged wide receiver coach Matt Lubick to a conditioning match -- four 400-meter repeats with three minutes break in between.

Nelson beat Lubick on the first rep before Lubick schooled Nelson on the last three.

It has been months since that race.

“It still bugs him,” Lubick said with a laugh.

Nelson doesn’t really let those things go. He remembers the losses. Ask Nelson about the Easter egg hunts or the piñatas and he can’t really pinpoint any of those moments.

But the loss to Lubick, one-on-one basketball games, the national title game -- those stick out in Nelson’s mind so much more clearly.

“He doesn’t forget,” Lubick said. “It bothers him and he’s going to come right back and he wants to compete again.”

Oregon defensive coordinator Don Pellum has already praised Nelson this spring, saying he’s one of the hardest hitters on the team. Lubick says Nelson might’ve been the toughest player on Oregon’s roster last season.

Last week during a team film session, coach Mark Helfrich showed the team a clip of Nelson being blocked out of bounds.

“I sort of called Charles out and talked a little smack,” Helfrich said.

Nelson’s response? Helfrich heard it on Monday and Wednesday this week. Not in a rebuttal of words, but rather, in a rebuttal of very loud hits on every single rep in practice.