American Football: King of the Bay Area

No one believed a Chinese-American quarterback could lead the San Francisco 49ers out of their slump. No one even believed a Chinese-American quarterback could survive in the professional league.

Everyone was scrambling to showcase their talent for ridicule, seemingly determined to one-up each other and see whose mockery was the most scathing.

Among them, Charles Davis was undoubtedly a cut above the rest. ”After missing the playoffs for eight consecutive years, San Francisco 49ers fans can go ahead and get ready for next year.”

The entire Alliance was like this, and even the San Francisco 49ers’ hometown paper, the San Francisco Chronicle, was no exception.

As the area’s largest newspaper, the San Francisco Chronicle’s influence was unrivaled. Across the entire West Coast, it was second only to the Los Angeles Times. In terms of both circulation and influence, it was far ahead of other competitors, rivaling the Los Angeles Times.

Brian Westbrook was a senior columnist for the paper’s sports section. He even had a bit of a name for himself as a professional commentator within the Alliance.

After the San Francisco 49ers officially announced Lu Ke as the starting quarterback, all eyes seemed to be locked on his ”Chinese Descent” identity. The Alliance’s official promotion of this angle, in particular, only added fuel to the fire. Everyone switched into ridicule mode, as if failing to chime in with a few jabs would damage their expert credibility.

Even the most objective, calm, and rational professional commentators were utterly baffled by the San Francisco 49ers’ choice.

But, as a commentator closely associated with the hometown San Francisco 49ers, Brian couldn’t and wouldn’t just open fire indiscriminately. If he was going to criticize, he had to back it up with sound reasoning. Otherwise, he’d be setting a fire in his own backyard, and the team’s management would definitely not be pleased.

Brian launched a detailed investigation, even digging deep into Lu Ke’s high school years and his life before immigrating, trying to reach a relatively objective and comprehensive conclusion. The results were not encouraging.

During his middle and high school years, Lu Ke attended George Washington High School, a public school. The football team had no official stats. The only thing that could be confirmed was that Lu Ke did serve as the starting quarterback, but his stats were a complete mess. Basic data like passing yards, touchdowns, and interceptions were all unreliable, with widely varying versions that had no reference value whatsoever.

In college, he didn’t even join the team in his freshman and sophomore years. In his junior year, he was on the practice squad. In his senior year, he became a backup but missed the entire season. His only game experience was the final game against the University of Southern California and the Rose Bowl against the University of Wisconsin—playing the last quarter and the final two minutes of those games, respectively.

In those two games, Lu Ke’s performance was nothing short of stunning: twenty successful passes out of twenty-five attempts for a completion rate of eighty percent, five touchdowns, and no interceptions. He led the team to victory from behind on two consecutive occasions, bringing the Rose Bowl back to UCLA for the first time in twenty-five years.

At the Rookie Training Camp, his physical test data was abysmal—not just for an undrafted player, but barely even meeting the average college standard. In contrast, his quarterback-specific skills tests were outstanding. He was a revelation during the impromptu scrimmages, showcasing a sensational passing touch, to say nothing of his jaw-dropping perfect score on the Fonderick test.

He went unselected in the draft.

In the preseason, he participated in only seventeen offensive snaps over four games, with six successful passes out of eleven attempts, no touchdowns, and one interception.

That was the full extent of it. For an NFL professional player, for a player about to become a starting quarterback, such a paltry set of data was pitifully scarce. A beggar likely had more to his name.

Such a small sample size meant it had little analytical value, making it impossible to accurately gauge the player’s true skill, let alone estimate his average level of performance. And to make matters worse, the unreliable high school stats, the three years away from a starting role in college, and the physical test data that never lies all pointed to one conclusion—

The player’s brilliant performances were merely a flash in the pan. Outside of those brief moments of talent, he was mediocre, even terrible, for the vast majority of the time. Never mind the minimum professional standard; even his ability to meet the average college level was questionable.

All the clues, all the information, indicated that this was a disaster—a disaster with no end in sight.

In the end, this is what Brian wrote in his sports column for the San Francisco Chronicle:

”This is a bold choice, and a reckless one. We have no way of knowing the consequences of this decision. The only thing we can do is cross our fingers and hope for a miracle. Fortunately, Alex Smith is about to return from his injury, and Colin Kaepernick will likely be back in four weeks from his concussion.”

Even Brian himself couldn’t believe he was now hoping for the return of Alex and Colin.

There was a time when they had been so desperate to get rid of Alex. For the past eight seasons, almost every offseason, the loyal fans would plead with the team’s management to give up on Alex and make a new choice, wishing they could dump this burden immediately.

There was a time when they had been so desperate, growing more disappointed after each of the four preseason games. Colin’s performance was like a bottomless abyss with no end in sight; the disaster just kept getting worse.

But now, faced with this unknown Chinese-American quarterback, Alex and Colin suddenly looked like a godsend.

At least Alex was a former number one draft pick; he could still lead the team forward steadily and prevent a total collapse. At least Colin had limitless potential; he just needed time, more time, to slowly learn and grow.

But that unknown X-factor... everything was unpredictable.

The capitulation of the San Francisco Chronicle, the team’s last local holdout, signified a total collapse on the public opinion front. Fans were wailing, grief-stricken, and in utter despair.

Even the most optimistic fans were now mired in pessimism and despair, unable to break free. It wasn’t because of Lu Ke’s Chinese descent, but because from any angle, this undrafted rookie quarterback was in no position to become the team’s leader, let alone its savior.

A sample survey by the San Francisco Chronicle showed that over sixty percent of fans had already given up on the season. The reason was simple: they didn’t believe Lu Ke could lead the team to any victories while Alex and Colin were out. By the time the two injured quarterbacks returned, the team would already be too far behind its competitors to have any chance.

The remaining forty percent of fans were split into two camps.

Half of them still held out hope, supporting and feeling proud of their team regardless of its record. The other half felt anger, uncontrollable anger—directed not at Lu Ke, but at the team’s management.

During this year’s offseason, the entire coaching and management staff had undergone a major overhaul, a move the fans had supported, hoping it would bring a new energy to the team and lead them back to the playoffs for the first time in eight years. But clearly, Jim Hubble’s choices had disappointed them—

First, he re-signed Alex Smith, then prematurely pushed Colin Kaepernick into the starting role, then passed on veterans Carson Palmer and Matt Hasselbeck to choose Lu Ke. And finally, the team’s offensive scheme failed to find any rhythm throughout the four preseason games.

Adding fuel to the fire, the temporary backup quarterback the team management chose for Lu Ke was, astoundingly, another undrafted player.

Every choice, every decision, every step was filled with absurdity and bizarreness, as this disaster with no foreseeable end slowly slid into an even more terrifying abyss.

”Does Jim Hubble have a thing for pretty boys? Why is the whole team full of kids—overwhelmed, inexperienced kids who can’t handle the pressure? Why? Experience matters in the pros! What the hell is wrong with this team? Have they lost their minds?”

Whether the team management had lost their minds was unknown, but the enraged fans were certainly losing theirs. Over two thousand people gathered around Candlestick Park, using official channels to voice their anguished questions. The protest signs said it all:

”WE WANT VICTORIES, NOT BABIES!”

”GIVE UP THE UNREALISTIC FANTASIES AND GET REAL. THE TEAM NEEDS A LEADER, NOT A DOLL.”

”FIRE LU KE, CHANGE THE QUARTERBACK. EVEN SCOTT TORSIN WOULD BE A SMARTER CHOICE.”

”WAKE UP, COACHING STAFF! LU KE IS NOT THE FUTURE OF THIS TEAM!”

”A YEAR AGO, A #1 PICK LED THE TEAM. A YEAR LATER, AN UNDRAFTED ROOKIE IS LEADING THE TEAM? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH US?”

”NO! NO! NO! PLEASE SAY ’NO’ TO LU KE.”

”WE ARE NOT BABYSITTERS! OUR SEASON TICKETS AREN’T FOR RAISING A CHILD!”

...

Though perhaps not the original intent, the roars denouncing Lu Ke grew louder and louder, and the calls to replace the team’s quarterback swelled in waves. Things gradually spun out of control. The fans’ anger could no longer be contained; they had to respond, to vent it—

Three crazed fans went to Lu Ke’s house. First, they dumped the contents of two trash cans into his backyard, then they pelted his front door with eggs and tomatoes.

Fortunately, Lu Zhengze and Jiang Youning were at work when it happened and were not frightened. The police arrived promptly at the scene, took a statement, and began their investigation. Unfortunately, this had seriously crossed a line for Lu Ke. Things were starting to get personal.

But no matter how much they fussed, no matter how much they protested, no matter how angry they were, the fact remained that the San Francisco 49ers were running out of time. Likewise, they were running out of room to maneuver. Even if the coaching staff wanted to make a change, they had no other options.

Amidst a chorus of doomsaying, amidst a state of widespread panic, amidst a storm of uncertainty, the 2011 season began.