| From Friday Nights to Sunday Afternoons - Travis Buchanon's Football Odyssey | - Yrogergj24's Dynasty

Yrogergj24's Dynasty Blog

| From Friday Nights to Sunday Afternoons - Travis Buchanon's Football Odyssey |

Posted on August 25, 2011 at 11:25 PM.

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Hey guys, I decided to help promote a dynasty here that is currently on IGN, I am not the original writer but he has given me permission to post this here. All Credit goes to DaaaaaBears of IGNhttp://boards.ign.com/ncaa_football_...1/189706429/p1

�Dan Forker here, reporting to you to on a beautiful July morning in Lexington, Kentucky, and it�s one of our favorite days of the year: the first full day of practice for our Paul Laurence Dunbar Bulldogs. There is a special buzz surrounding the team this year, coming off a 9 � 1 regular season in 2005 and a trip to the Kentucky state semi finals in the playoffs. While losing many key defensive players off of last year�s squad, Don Leyland is returning almost his entire offense in his sixth season as the head coach of PLD, in what will surely be � "

Travis Buchanon turned off the radio of his mother�s car, having just pulled up to the parking lot of PLD�s practice field. He stared straight ahead, watching a group of much older and confident looking players joking around as they entered the gate to the field.

�Honey, last chance if you don�t want to do this.�

Travis glanced over at his mother. He was fourteen years old, with short, unkempt brown hair and deep blue eyes. He had good size for a freshman in high school, almost six feet tall and around 160 pounds. He shook his head, unbuckling his seat belt.

�I�m fine, mom.� She put a hand on his arm, giving it a comforting squeeze.

�It�s okay to be nervous, Travis. Be careful out there, please? I�ll have a nice dinner waiting for you when you get home.� She gave him that kind of smile only a mother could give when trying to reassure their child, but it wasn�t working on him today.

�Thanks, mom. Later.� Travis got out the car and closed the door to the family Sedan, and watched as she drove back home. He slowly began walking towards the gate, hoping to see a familiar face soon.

He didn�t know why he was so nervous. Everyone was guaranteed a spot on the team. And even if they weren�t, Travis was good. Very, very good. He set city passing records as a quarterback in middle school his eighth grade year, although Travis was more amused at the fact that somebody deemed it necessary to keep stats for kids who probably hadn�t even reached puberty yet. He had the best arm that nobody knew about, and he was hoping to show the coaching staff what he was capable of as soon as possible.

He finally came across a few of his friends from middle school, Kevin and Parker. They were walking to the entrance as well, when they caught sight of him and waited for him to catch up.

�Where you been, man? Tried calling you yesterday,� Kevin asked, punching him lightly on the arm.

Kevin Weston was Travis� best friend and had been his neighbor since childhood. He was a little shorter than Travis, with a good amount of muscle and buzzed brown hair. He had been Travis� running back in middle school, and relied a lot more on his strength than speed. Kevin was definitely the most troublesome out of all his friends, and the most girl crazy.

�He was probably throwing a ball through that damn tire all day,� Parker chuckled, chowing down on a Powerbar.

Parker Slone was from Louisiana, and spoke with a thick New Orleans accent. He was a Katrina victim, and Travis� family had housed him for a few weeks last year while his family found a house in the area. Travis used the opportunity to get Parker on the team in eighth grade, and he had proven to be a beast from any position on defense. He had very tan skin, short, dark hair, and had a bit more muscle than either Travis or Kevin. He also had uncanny eating habits that would put anybody else at four hundred pounds, but he was somehow able to keep in shape.

�My bad, I was out all day with my parents getting gear for practice. And yeah Parker, I was throwing at that damn tire.�

Kevin and Parker laughed. Travis� training method for passing accuracy consisted of throwing a football through a tire that hung from a tree in his backyard. He treated it almost religiously, and was often engaged in the ritual for hours at a time.

�One day I�m gonna chop that tree down, dude.� Kevin pointed at the sidelines as they walked onto the field. �Hey, there�s the guys.�

Derek, Taylor, and Sean were off to the side as the players were mingling before practice started. Taylor noticed his approaching friends, and signaled them over.

�Nice of you guys to join us. I�ve been here since 6 ****ing 30.�

Taylor Darby was a big boy. A little taller than Travis and a hundred pounds heavier, Taylor was a lineman to the core. He had short, curly blonde hair and hadn�t grown out of his middle school immaturity yet, but he was fun to hang out with in a group and had known Travis forever.

�Waking up before noon could be good for you,� Kevin said, laying his bag down. �Where are the coaches?�

�They said 7 o� clock sharp. We�ve still got five minutes,� Derek said, checking the time on his phone.

Derek Cartwright was a lot different than most of the players. While lean and athletic, his forte was in the classroom. He had never gotten anything below an A in his life, but tried as little as the rest of the group. He had run track in middle school as well as play receiver for football, and had been the fastest guy on the team. Derek was of average height, with medium length blonde hair.

�Tight, I could have slept another five minutes,� Sean mumbled, folding his arms and reveling in his own misfortune.

Sean Todd was the last member of the group. He was very tall and lanky, leading to him having played a bit of almost every position, due to his unique size that didn�t really give him a definite spot on the field. He was awfully shy and modest, a desirable attitude given the influx of ego that exuded from the people he hung out with.

Parker rolled his eyes. �No one got much sleep, quit your bitching.�

�I�m not bitching, fatass.�

Travis ignored his friends� squabble and became acclimated to his new surroundings. There were a lot of kids that looked to be around his age, but the upperclassmen were easy to spot. Most of them were huge; Travis couldn�t imagine looking like them in a few years.

Suddenly, a whistle cut through the brisk morning air. The players turned their heads in the direction of the sound.

�Bring it in! C�mon, right on the fifty!� a man yelled, waving his arms and standing on the white �PLD� logo that covered the center of the field.

Travis recognized the man as Don Leyland, his new coach head. He had seen him at all of the games but only once up close, when he came to talk to the middle schools about continuing on in high school to play for the Bulldogs. He was of average build and approaching middle age, and wore a cap and some shades to combat the rising sun. Travis heard he had played quarterback in college decades ago, and was supposedly pretty good.

Coach Leyland waited until the players had reached the logo to begin talking. Travis noticed the upperclassmen were on a knee, and he and his fellow newcomers imitated them by doing the same.

�Welcome to the first day of the 2006 season, gentleman. It�s a fresh start, an opportunity to wipe last season clean from the slate and begin anew. But with that new beginning disappears your accomplishments. None of you, not even you seniors, have proven anything to me yet. No one will coast through training camp thinking they�re at the top of the depth chart. That�s up to me and my staff, not you. If I don�t see 100, hell, 110 percent out here from every damn one of you, I don�t want you on my football team. Understood?�

The players shook their heads in silent agreement.

�Good. We�re going to start with some basic stretches, then get into conditioning. After lunch, you�ll break off into your positions to get more specific training. Now take a spot on a yard line, and we�ll begin. The quest for a state championship starts here, gentlemen!�