American Football: King of the Bay Area

Playing in the NFL is no easy feat.

In the NCAA, games rely more on individual talent. The more gifted players can use their physical advantages to complete passes, make catches, and advance the ball. Tactics often take a backseat. This is the fundamental reason why the no-huddle offense can shine on the college stage—no huddle, no discussion, which means no tactical arrangement, just charging ahead.

But in the NFL, genius and talent alone aren’t enough. Tactical permutations and combinations dictate the flow of the game. In recent years, the no-huddle offense has also found considerable success in the NFL, but at its core, it still relies on an elite quarterback’s mastery of the playbook and control over the game’s rhythm. Tactics remain the essential, unbreachable barrier to entry.

Before entering the Alliance, Lu Ke was well aware of this fact. But it wasn’t until the preseason began that the feeling started to become real. Only then did Lu Ke realize he had been too young and too naive.

Twenty thousand plays, when applied in an actual game, felt like a whole new world. He was struck by the strange illusion that he didn’t recognize any of the plays at all. The sheer volume of information made his brain feel like it was swelling.

Of course, Lu Ke had only been with the team for three days and had only been reading the playbook for three days. Forget about mastering and understanding it; he hadn’t even finished his first read-through. He still needed more time to learn.

More importantly, the playbook was just the first step. The play calls were another story entirely.

”Right-side flat gun barrel, F-shooter 60 snake-eye, 3.”

That was a play call. In a real game, the quarterback changes plays at any moment based on the situation on the field. Therefore, all the calls are codes—codes that outsiders can’t decipher.

A single, simple play call contained all the instructions for the Offense Line, for the Wide Receivers and Tight End, for the running back, for the direction and length of the pass, and for the timing of the snap.

Imagine the coaching staff relaying a play call to the quarterback through his earpiece, and the quarterback, not understanding what’s going on, just spouts nonsense. Or, when the quarterback relays the play to his teammates, he doesn’t understand it himself, or his teammates misinterpret it. The result of that down would be predictable.

From the playbook to the coded calls, there was just so much a quarterback needed to learn.

In a real game, even a tactical master like Peyton Manning had to sit on the sidelines with his playbook while his Defense Team was on the field, reviewing and studying it, using the downtime to quickly think and plan. So what hope did a rookie quarterback have?

There’s also a small number of quarterbacks in the Alliance who, because they can’t memorize the plays, wear a special little wristband. It has a protective cover, and opening it reveals the different combinations of play calls. Before each offensive play, they can read the call for themselves, confirm it with the coaching staff’s instructions, and then set up the play.

Tom Brady was like that in the latter half of his career.

Moreover, to prevent their codes from being cracked, teams update their play calls every season. This means that every season’s playbook is brand new—or at least, most of it is updated.

Every year, rookie quarterbacks in the Alliance are cut from their teams simply because they can’t memorize the playbook.

As one of the Undrafted Players, Lu Ke had been with the team for far too little time. The playbook was so massive that not even a genius with a photographic memory could claim to remember and understand all of it, let alone apply those plays in an actual game.

For the team, the preseason was a process of practicing and adapting to the plays. But for Lu Ke, it was a process of ravenous learning.

One only had to look at Colin Kaepernick’s performance in the first game to understand. It was a crushing 3-28 defeat, where they only managed to score a single field goal and had virtually no opportunities the entire game.

Lu Ke was actually a little glad he was sitting on the bench. If he were thrown onto the field now, he would be completely lost, probably even worse than Kaepernick. He wouldn’t even understand the coach’s play calls.

So, a life on the bench could be magnificent in its own way.

The preseason continued. In the second game, they hosted the Oakland Raiders. In the third, they remained at home to face the challenge of the Houston Texans.

Setting aside the reunion between Lu Ke and JJ Watt in Houston, Lu Ke’s biggest gain came from the playbook.

That once thick and complex playbook had seemed like an impossible task, but now, Lu Ke was already starting his fourth read-through. More than that, he was beginning to understand it on a deeper level. His growth was clearly visible.

Not only that, but every game brought more insights and raised more questions. This prompted Lu Ke to proactively seek out more game film, watching the evolution of plays from the perspective of a professional quarterback.

The games of Peyton Manning and Aaron Rodgers were the most worthy of study. It wasn’t just about their tactical arrangements, but also their keen sense for opportunities, their masterful application of plays, and their successful command of their teammates. There was so much to learn.

However, their games were ultimately not played within the San Francisco 49ers’ system—or rather, not within Jim Hubble’s system. Lu Ke could deepen his understanding of tactics, but he couldn’t apply it to the 49ers’ games. In the end, he had to return to his own team’s practices and games. And so, Lu Ke found a new enjoyment in the tactical meetings.

Besides his gains with the playbook, Lu Ke didn’t let his daily training tasks slide during the preseason. The tireless sweat he poured in each day yielded returns, bit by bit. After entering the Alliance, Lu Ke was like a sponge, rapidly absorbing knowledge and experience, quickly adapting to the rhythm and atmosphere of the Professional Alliance.

For the Undrafted Players, who had already missed two months of adjustment time, they had to work twice as hard just to keep up.

Before heading to San Diego in the fourth week for the away game against the San Diego Lightning, Lu Ke completed another daily training mission. Combined with a previous fourteen-day mission cycle, Lu Ke now had two more basic attribute points.

He added the first basic attribute point to his Ball-Carrying Run, raising the skill from 69 to 70. This meant that while his ability to handle contact might still be insufficient, his movement within the pocket was no longer that of a raw rookie.

He added the second basic attribute point to his Evasion Ability, raising it from 60 to 61. It was still no fundamental change, but before a qualitative leap, the accumulation of quantitative changes was still crucial.

It had now been exactly one full year since Lu Ke’s first encounter with Qi. Under the influence of the Football Superstar System, compared to a year ago, Lu Ke’s stats had undergone a world-shaking transformation. He was a completely new person. Now, Lu Ke’s personal stats were as follows:

Physical Fitness: 64/100

Spiritual Quality: 83/100

Tactical Awareness: 70

Willpower: 80

Speed: 67

Strength: 49

Acceleration: 63

Agility: 71

Jumping: 49

...The above are the basic stats.

Throwing Power: 79

Short Pass Accuracy: 71

Mid-range Pass Accuracy: 65

Long Pass Accuracy: 82

Running Pass: 70

Fake Pass Action: 45

Ball Protection Ability: 59

Observation Field of View: 70

Ball-Carrying Run: 71

Evasion Ability: 62

Blocking Ability: 54

Dribbling Ability: 54

Illusionary Ability: 54

...The above are the quarterback’s technical stats.

Catching Ability: 38

Route Running: 15

Extreme Catch: 15

Crowd Reception: 15

Burst: 15

...The above are technical stats for receiving skills related to a quarterback.

Resistance to Injury Index: 77

Endurance Index: 80

Recovery Speed: 75

...And the above are injury-related attributes connected to physical fitness.

The most obvious change was undoubtedly in the quarterback’s various technical stats, which had completely transformed. This was the inevitable result of Lu Ke’s focused allocation of points. Although his various footwork and movement metrics were still nothing to write home about, his passing ability was now fully equipped, and his various quarterbacking skills had caught up.

Of course, his physical fitness was still only average, and the related stats hadn’t improved much. Lu Ke began to seriously consider how he should allocate his attribute points the next time he earned them.

’Once his top skills reached 70, was that enough for the professional stage? Should I prioritize getting these skills to 80, to truly reach the standard of an excellent quarterback? Or should I first focus on my weaknesses, improving my physical fitness and related skills like running and ball protection?’

It was a difficult problem. But without a doubt, Lu Ke’s growth in one year was both gratifying and astonishing. The future was full of promise.

In the past two games, Lu Ke had played for seven offensive drives against the Oakland Raiders, and only three against the Houston Texans. But Lu Ke didn’t mind at all.

His life on the bench was so rich and colorful, with the Professional Alliance truly unfolding before his eyes, that he temporarily forgot about Colin Kaepernick’s existence. It was more of a competition with himself. He also temporarily forgot about people like Parris and Brylen; they were nothing more than annoying flies. On the contrary, the sincere and pragmatic Lu Ke had made quite a few new friends on the team, both rookies and veterans.

Before the start of the away game against the San Diego Lightning, Jim Hubble announced the starting quarterback. It was still Colin Kaepernick. This time, he would once again play the entire game. This was Colin’s last chance to practice before the regular season began. The time left for him was indeed running out.

For Lu Ke, this was another rare learning opportunity. The San Diego Lightning’s quarterback, Philip Rivers, was an excellent quarterback in the Alliance whose skill level had always kept him in the top tier.

Although he had never managed to win a Super Bowl, his strength was not to be underestimated. Some even called him the Kobe Bryant of San Diego—not for his Alliance record, but for his status in the city.

Therefore, Lu Ke was already rubbing his hands together, eager with anticipation.