He grew up on the south side of Chicago, Illinois: a tight-knit suburb, where neighbors were more like cousins. By the time he was 10, he was easy to spot walking down the street or attending high school basketball games. He had gained a reputation as the bulky running back who could carry any pee-wee football team to a “Super Bowl.” It was a tradition that began at the age of 5 when his mother LaTisha bought him his first football and signed him up for his first team. He never looked back. 

His name is Mar’keise Irving, but they call him Bucky.

Yes, Bucky. That’s how he introduces himself. It’s what he wants. 

It began the day he was brought home from the hospital. LaTisha noticed his eyes were wider than normal, and, as he fell asleep, they would remain slightly cracked.

“It was cute,” she said. “But it was scary.”

His father Marcellus agreed. He was the first to call him Bucky. 

Marcellus passed away when his son was 2, but the nickname stuck because it reminded him of his father. Hearing that name always felt comforting. It usually came from his mom, or in the form of a cheer as he put on a show on the football field. 

Whatever the form, Bucky didn’t take his name for granted. He wasn’t taught that way. In fact, not everyone accepted him for his nickname after first meeting him. His high school coach used it as a catalyst to maximize Bucky’s abilities: a tactic that helped teach the young running back that, despite his gift, nothing would ever be handed to him.  

Like many who lived in the south side of Chicago, Morgan Weaver knew of Bucky since he was a kid. He had seen the talent firsthand and respected it. Bucky transferred to Hillcrest High School as a sophomore after playing basketball as a freshman at Morgan Park High School. Soon after arriving, his nickname caught on throughout the team. 

Weaver, however, knew there was another gear to Bucky’s game. He wanted to help him find it. So he made it a point that Bucky would have to earn just about everything, including the team addressing him by his nickname. 

“He wanted to humble me, and I think he did a great job of that,” Bucky said. “I was fighting for a spot. He used to bench me. He used to play mind games with me. He used to tell me nothing was ever going to be given to me.”

The strategy worked. It helped him develop a resilient mindset. 

As a sophomore at Hillcrest, Bucky was a part of a “stacked team,” Weaver said: one with state championship hopes loaded with Division I prospects. Therefore, it was tough for him to find his niche. The Hawks started the season 4-0 before hosting their rival high school Lemont. 

Bucky took the game by its reins. He rushed 24 times for 303 yards and three touchdowns, adding 84 receiving yards and a receiving touchdown. 

“The kid was just unstoppable,” Weaver said. “He took the game over.” 

From that point on, Weaver called him Bucky. 

He worked with his running back tirelessly for the next two years as Bucky strived to earn looks from Division I programs. With Weaver’s help, the offers flooded in. The Minnesota Golden Gophers stood out. It was one of the few programs who remained in constant contact with Bucky and his family — a gesture the Irvings respected as they were going through a period of mourning as Bucky’s grandmother had just passed away. 

“It felt like they welcomed him with open arms,” his stepfather Vester Barr said.  

The stability Minnesota provided ultimately convinced Bucky to choose the program. He committed exactly one year after his grandma’s passing. 

Similarly to high school, Gophers head coach P.J. Fleck didn’t want his program calling the running back by “Bucky”. Fleck’s reasoning: The Gophers’ rival, the University of Wisconsin, has a mascot named Bucky Badger. This didn’t last long, however. In his one season with the Gophers, he rushed for 699 yards and four touchdowns, while the team earned a 9-4 victory and a Bowl Game win. 

His impact for the team worked its way into the fans’ hearts, and his name would permeate throughout the stadium after breaking off chunk runs.

“There was always a Bucky chant,” Barr said. “Because the kid plays with so much emotion and so much passion for the game.”

When Bucky heard those chants, it reminded him of his father. 

As a freshman at Minnesota, Bucky found himself splitting touches with Ky Thomas and Trey Potts. It was a true committee-backfield where Thomas got the slight majority of touches. While Bucky found success when he got touches, his mother noticed her son wasn’t acting himself. 

A change was necessary. Before his sophomore year, Bucky put his name into the transfer portal, ready to leave behind a school that had prioritized him as a recruit, but not as a member of its roster. 

In the transfer portal, he sought out a program that would give him the chance to compete for a starting role, as well as one that made him feel at home. On his first trip to Oregon, he felt both those boxes were checked. 

The Ducks were coming off an end-of-season implosion where they lost three of their final four games by 15 points or more. To make matters worse, or so it seemed, head coach Mario Cristobal left for the University of Miami, while running backs Travis Dye and Trey Benson transferred and CJ Verdell went to the NFL. The running back room was down to Byron Cardwell — a freshman who broke out in the second half of the 2021 season — and Sean Dollars, who had played minimal snaps at the collegiate level due to injuries.

Retooling was in order. Bucky would fit in somewhere. 

He made his commitment in early May. When he arrived in Oregon for preseason training camp in August, the first question he received at Oregon Media Day was a simple, but important one: “What are we calling you?” 

“I’m Bucky,” he answered. 

He seemed relaxed when he said it. At Oregon, he wouldn’t have to deal with a coincidental rival mascot, nor a challenge from the head coach. Not that he needed the incentive. That test Weaver put him through prepared him for what would come at Oregon. It trained him to always play with the mindset that nothing would be handed to him. And nothing was. 

The Ducks began the season similar to the Gophers, spreading the wealth among the running backs. However, Bucky’s talent quickly changed that narrative. His performances on the field demanded more touches. 

After opening 1-1, the Ducks hosted their first ranked opponent in four seasons: the BYU Cougars. They turned to the run game, and Bucky answered the call. He rushed 14 times for 97 yards. 

From that point on, he took the starting job. Now, it’s only a matter of time before his nickname fulfills the chants in Autzen Stadium.