Temple University Athletics
The Path Already Written: Jay Ducker’s Journey to Temple
10.24.25 | Football
After four football programs and over 3,000 career rushing yards, Jay Ducker is still running toward something bigger. When Ducker talks about football, there's a certainty and confidence in his voice – not arrogance, but conviction. It's the same conviction that's carried him from the outskirts of Omaha, Nebraska, to Illinois, Memphis, Huntsville, and now, Philadelphia. Each stop has been another test of faith, both in himself and in the path he believes was written long before he ever picked up a football.
"I kind of had questions," Ducker admits. "Then I just read the Bible and thought about it, like, it just kind of makes sense. He got your path. Ain't no reason to worry. He already chose your destiny. You just gotta trust in Him."
That faith has been tested often – through injuries, transfers, and the unpredictable rhythm of college football. But for Ducker, every challenge has been a lesson in control, a theme that flows through his life as cleanly as a running lane on a good day.
"I like to be able to game change," he says. "I don't want to feel like I have no control. That's why I like running back. I know I'm gonna get the ball, and I can set the tone, I can set the tempo."
That instinct for control started early. Ducker was just six years old when his dad – tired of missing his games while coaching Jay's older brother – decided to put him on the nine-year-old team.
"He was just always having me be, like, corner to his side or the sideline," Ducker says, grinning. "He'd tell me, 'Stay there, watch the bootleg, and once you see him, hold on for your life.' I was little, my socks were too big – my mom's got pictures – but I was out there."
It's a story that fits him: undersized, overmatched, but fearless. Even then, Ducker wasn't afraid of playing up – of putting himself in places where he might fail just to see if he could hang. "I wasn't supposed to be in that division," he says. "But that's kind of been me my whole life: jumping in early, figuring it out later."
By high school, Ducker had figured plenty out. He became one of Nebraska's most dynamic players, piling up yards and attention with the kind of vision that makes defenders look a half-step too slow. When it came time for college, Northern Illinois felt like the right fit. Head coach Thomas Hammock, himself a former running back and developer of pros like Melvin Gordon and James White, offered Ducker both structure and challenge.
"They had a good running back room," Ducker says. "I knew I'd get taught a lot of lessons there."
He made the most of it. As a freshman, Ducker helped NIU win the Mid-American Conference (MAC) Championship and earned conference honors. Then came a familiar restlessness – the sense that he had more to prove. "I thought, okay, we won the MAC, I did everything I could in that division," he says. "Let's see where I can go, see if I can show I can play anywhere."
That belief in testing himself, in pushing his ceiling, led him to Memphis, drawn by the Tigers' elite facilities and long lineage of NFL running backs. "They've got everything you want there," he says. "So I was like, okay, this is my next spot."
From there came another move, this time to Sam Houston State. And when head coach K.C. Keeler left for Temple, Ducker didn't hesitate to follow. "As a senior, I wanted to know what I was getting into," he explains. "And I know what Coach K.C. brings – he always wins. I was like, okay, I'm gonna go with him."
Now in Philadelphia, Ducker's game speaks for itself. Over the course of his college career, he's racked up more than 3,000 rushing yards. A quiet, cumulative testament to his consistency across four programs, multiple playbooks, and countless challenges.
Temple has offered him yet another new environment – this time, one unlike any he's lived in before. "This is like a real city," he laughs. "Small streets, one-ways. You miss one turn, it's a 10-minute detour. But it's cool to see how much you can cram into one place. People talk about Broad Street, parades, the Eagles. It's just a cool environment."
Playing in Lincoln Financial Field, the home of the Eagles, adds a layer of motivation.
"Obviously, you want to eventually get to that level," Ducker says. "Even when you're out there, you can imagine it – this isn't Saturday, this is Sunday. Let's play like it's Sunday."
That balance of imagination and discipline defines how he approaches the game. "I really just think, literally in the moment – this play, how can I get the most out of it?" he says. "As long as you keep stacking plays, it's gonna turn out how you want in the long run."
He doesn't dwell on outside noise – stats, expectations, projections. "I don't really get too nervous," he says. "Like, it's football. As long as I practice as hard as I can, what am I nervous for? It's the same thing I've been doing. I just go out there, trust God, and do me."
Faith, family, and football – that's the order for Ducker. His family remains his foundation, even from afar. "My family always got my back," he says. "I don't talk to them as much as I want – I'm kind of independent – but we got each other forever."
At Temple, he's found another kind of family: his teammates. Especially the running back room, which he describes with obvious affection. "We'll hang out outside the facility almost every other day – watching film, watching games, or just talking about whatever. It's a big, happy family."
He knows what that means, growing up between siblings – an older brother and sister, and a younger stepbrother who now plays tight end at Texas A&M. "I've always kind of been around people older and younger than me," he says. "You learn how to keep people close, how to have their back."
That same instinct shows up in the locker room, where Ducker is known for his easy humor and quiet leadership. "I be messing around with everybody," he laughs. "But when it's crunch time, I got your back for sure. Everyone knows that."
Three thousand yards later, that's the throughline of Jay Ducker's story: wherever he goes, he finds his footing – through faith, through work, through the people around him. The path hasn't always been easy, but it's his, and he's following it the only way he knows how.
"Wherever I go," he says again, "I'm gonna play, and I'm gonna do good."
