If there was such a thing as a soap opera for College Football this would be it. So here goes. Enjoy or hate it, nevertheless, I’ll be writing about The Freshman, all season long.

“Keller your up!” said Coach Powers, the University of Florida Strength and Conditioning coach. Brayden Keller, a 5-star blue chip recruit hailing from Los Angeles is a long way from home. It’s only his second day in Gainesville and Gator fans are expecting big things from him. His first test is just that. A conditioning test, 8 half gassers with 45 seconds of rest in between. Each gasser must be completed in 16 seconds by the fleet foot Los Angeles wide receiver.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” says the 6’1″ inch 175 lbs freshman.

“We’re gonna see.” Coach Powers quips back.

It’s 7AM. It’s hot. Everyone is on edge. No one wants to be there, not even the people who aren’t running the gassers. Brayden’s right hand touches the hot field turf. The searing Florida sun has the on field temperature over 100 degrees and the humidity isn’t doing anyone any favors. The whistle blows and Brayden is off. The first five gassers aren’t easy. Coach Powers can tell that he’s winded.

“I thought you said you were in shape? You’re barely coming in at 15 seconds each time. Your ass better make these next three. You don’t pass this test you don’t practice tomorrow.” Said Coach Powers.

Keller doesn’t make the last three. Actually, he doesn’t make the last two, coming in at times of 17 and 19 seconds. He’s gassed, searching for air hidden in the humidity. The only thing he finds is earl…..vomit, and plenty of it. He’s on all fours. His five senses are out of whack, so he can’t hear a word of the four letter word four page letter that Coach Powers is giving to him at the moment. He also doesn’t hear the moans and groans of the other wide receivers that he ran his gassers with. Everyone else passed their conditioning test, but because Keller didn’t so the rest of the team has to run extra.

“Every minute he’s on the fucking ground, I’m adding another gasser to the three extra you already have to run. If you don’t get off the ground you piece of shit Keller!” Coach Powers barks.

“Come one dogg. Get up man!” As the other fearful and tired wideouts encourage Brayden.

Finally, redshirt sophomore, Terrance Miller, picks Brayden up off the ground and gets him back on the line. Unfortunately, Brayden falls back to the turf. More calls to earl were made. More gassers were run by his fellow wide receivers, but not Brayden.

“You need to go see Coach Brown now. And tell him why you’re in his office. You’re not coming back to practice unless he says you can.” Coach Powers tells Keller.

Dehydrated and delirious, Brayden gets on his feet. He stumbles like he’s drunk and his white dri-fit is a mix of grass stains and throw up. He lingers in the locker room not noticing the scowls from his teammates.

“You good boy. I didn’t pass my conditioning test my Freshman year either. That shit hard. Coach Powers is a hoe! What don’t kill you make you stronger baby. Gone head and get cursed out by Coach Brown, hit that StairMaster and get ready for practice in this afternoon!” Said team leader and All-American linebacker, Clint Allen.

Clearly, he’d been through this before Keller thought to himself. The youngest player on the team at 17 years old walked the gator mile to Coach Brown’s office. The legendary head coach took shit from no one, not even his wife.

Coach Brown’s assistant tells Brayden that Coach Brown is ready to see him. Brayden nervously enters into the legend’s office.