American Football: King of the Bay Area

The team bus slowly decelerated as a bustling crowd brought it to a standstill. Through the windows, Lu Ke could see a sea of faces—some fervent, others vicious—all twisted into grotesque masks by their cheers and screams. They hammered on the sides of the bus with all their might, desperate to get the players’ attention.

”Get out, Little Deer Bambi!”

”We don’t need a baby! We need a Superman!”

”Lu Ke = No no no!”

”Earth is too dangerous for you. Go home, E.T.!”

”Do you even know what you’re doing? Are you sure?”

...

Bright, glaring signs filled every corner of his vision. The air was saturated with curses and shouts of rejection, offering not a single shred of hope. The hostility stretched out endlessly, a boundless haze that seemed to cut off all possibility of escape, leaving him no ground to stand on.

In the distance, he could even see a small group of about a hundred people. They held a number ”14” jersey high, a bright red ”NO” sign right beside it. They were chanting in unison, ”No! No! No!” The simple, powerful words crashed down on him like a tidal wave, making it hard to breathe.

”Bambi, are you okay?” Logan patted Lu Ke’s arm, asking with concern.

Marcus, sitting behind them, also stood up. He placed his hands on Lu Ke’s shoulders and thoughtfully started massaging them. ”Don’t listen to those clowns. They’re just parrots; they have no idea what they’re doing.”

Lu Ke turned his head and smiled at his friends. ”Now you guys really know how hellish my life used to be, huh?” His self-deprecating joke made Logan and Marcus freeze for a moment. Whenever people brought up racial discrimination in the United States, it seemed they were always specifically referring to Black people. But in the country’s immigrant society, those of Chinese Descent were actually at the bottom of the food chain.

”Don’t worry. If I were scared, I never would have chosen football in the first place.” A confident glint shone in Lu Ke’s eyes. ”The best way to face doubt... is to meet it head-on and slap them hard in the face.” His words were ruthless and decisive, showing not fear or cowardice, but eager anticipation.

He turned his head, looking out the window once more. ”Besides, they’ve crossed my line.” His parents—they were his bottom line.

The fans could doubt him, attack him, and hate him all they wanted. That was fine, because it was something he had to face. He’d realized that when he chose the path of a professional player. But they could not attack his parents. No one could! More than ever before, Lu Ke’s desire for victory reached an absolute peak!

Beyond that, there was another reason he couldn’t lose tonight’s game: the Seattle Seahawks.

Fate was like a cycle. After all the twists and turns, he and the Seahawks were once again on opposite sides.

The insults and discrimination from the Seattle Seahawks at the Rookie Training Camp were still fresh in his mind.

Lu Ke knew that on the football field, discrimination was a challenge he had to face, just as it had been when Black players first took the field. It wasn’t just the Seattle Seahawks; the entire league, all the media, and countless spectators—their contempt, provocation, and disdain would be everywhere. Every step he took would be burdened with the need to prove himself and the arduous task of defeating discrimination.

Now, Lu Ke was facing his first challenge. The first game of his professional career, against the Seattle Seahawks. There couldn’t be a more interesting—or a more fitting—opponent.

It wasn’t just about proving himself, nor was it just about making a name for himself, and it certainly wasn’t just about teaching his opponents a lesson. It was about fighting for the win. To use a victory to kick-start his professional career and carve out a place for himself on the professional stage!

For his parents, for himself, for the future, and for victory. Lu Ke could find ten thousand reasons why he had to win today’s game. Most importantly, for his dream, he chose to persevere, chose to go pro—and he hadn’t come here to fail.

’Seattle Seahawks, here I come.’

Lu Ke couldn’t help but clench his fists, his whole body brimming with fighting spirit.

Looking at Lu Ke’s profile, Logan and Marcus exchanged a look. Both of them started getting pumped. Was Bloody Bambi going to make an appearance tonight?

The team bus stopped in front of the stadium tunnel. The players filed off the bus and entered the stadium. The raging wind carried a torrent of condemnation, ”Get out! Get out! Get out!”

Even though no one was named, the target was perfectly clear. Watching Lu Ke’s determined back as he walked forward, Logan was the first to snap. He shot up his middle finger and cursed, ”Fuck off! Have you guys even seen Bambi play? You don’t know a damn thing!”

Logan was just a rookie with no fan base. His provocative act immediately triggered even more vicious curses. Aldon Smith happened to be passing by and grabbed ahold of the impulsive Logan.

Then, Aldon shouted at the fans, ”You should be ashamed of yourselves! We need your support! We’ll get enough curses from the other side of the field.” Having said his piece, Aldon didn’t look back, just pulled Logan away.

As the team’s first-round pick this year, Aldon had quite a few supporters. His words made the fans pause, and the wave of curses gradually subsided.

Entering the stadium tunnel, reporters lined both sides, thrusting out their microphones and scrambling to ask questions. ”Lu Ke, as the first starting Chinese-American quarterback, how do you feel?” ”Lu Ke, are you confident about tonight’s game?” ”The wave of doubt is nonstop right now. Do you have any response?”

The crush of reporters was so overwhelming that the players’ pace was inevitably affected. Amid the chaotic jumble of questions, one in particular caught Lu Ke’s attention:

”The Seattle Seahawks’ head coach, Pete Carroll, said that he has no impression of you from the Rookie Training Camp. Apparently, compared to you, there are many more outstanding players among this year’s rookies. What are your thoughts on that?”

According to league regulations, to avoid affecting a player’s performance, pre-game interviews were optional. Post-game interviews, however, were mandatory.

But Lu Ke stopped. He turned around, searching the crowd for the source of the voice, and then broke into a smile. ”Perhaps you can remind Mr. Carroll. The keyword is ’Chinese-American player.’ That should jog his memory. I think he’s already made his position on players of Chinese Descent quite clear. At the very least, he *shouldn’t* have forgotten.”

Although he didn’t say it outright, the subtext was crystal clear: Pete Carroll knew Lu Ke, and there were some unpleasant memories associated with his being of Chinese Descent.

The entire league, from top to bottom, was questioning the ability of a Chinese-American quarterback; Pete was obviously not alone in this. But now that the person in question had brought it up so bluntly, the reporters, guided by the principles of political correctness, couldn’t say much more. Of course, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be fanning the flames later.

If the Seattle Seahawks won today’s game, they could probably create some explosive headlines in the post-game press conference.

”So, do you have anything to say about today’s game?” a reporter pressed again.

Lu Ke broke into a wide smile. ”I hope they found the quarterback they were looking for.”

There was no point in saying more; the truth would be revealed on the field. To the victor go the spoils. The world of competitive sports was just that simple, and just that cruel.

Immediately after, another question reached his ears, making Lu Ke turn his gaze. ”Excuse me, in this afternoon’s game, will you be throwing in Richard Sherman’s direction?”

Lu Ke paused for a second, an amused expression he couldn’t shake fixed on his face.

’Richard Sherman? That damn ghost Richard Sherman? Why is he bringing me up again?’ Lu Ke was starting to wonder if the guy had a secret crush on him. They had no connection, no conflict, yet he refused to let go. What was that all about?

Lu Ke was about to respond—not with anger, but with a sense of absurdity, even amusement—but Kip came up from behind and clapped him on the shoulder. ”Let’s get to the locker room. You can do interviews after the game.” Before a game, it was best to avoid clashing with reporters, especially for inexperienced rookies whose emotions could easily be provoked, affecting their performance.

So, Lu Ke could only swallow his words and follow his teammates into the locker room.

DING. Amid the clamor of noisy discussion, the sound in his head was still so clear and precise, cutting through all the noise to ring out directly in the depths of his mind, like a torch being lit.

”Game Mission.” After a long time, a game mission had finally appeared, separate from the usual daily training missions.

As the starting quarterback about to play the first game of his professional career, the reality of it all became clearer than ever. Funnily enough, this was Lu Ke’s first official start in a long time. He’d skipped playing in the NCAA entirely, making his first career start directly in the NFL—a truly special beginning.

”Complete the first pass in an official game. Mission Requirement: None. Mission Reward: Basic points +1.

Score the first touchdown in an official game. Mission Requirement: None. Mission Reward: Basic points +1.

Score a touchdown in an official game. Mission Requirement: None. Mission Reward: Basic points +1 for each touchdown.

Passing Yards in an official game. Mission Requirement: At least 150 passing yards. Mission Reward: Basic points +1.

Pass Completion Rate in an official game. Mission Requirement: Completion rate of at least 55%. Mission Reward: Basic points +1.

Avoid interceptions in an official game. Mission Requirement: Interceptions less than or equal to two. Mission Reward: Basic points +1.

Achieve the first victory in an official game. Mission Requirement: None. Mission Reward: Basic points +5.”

This was the first game of Lu Ke’s professional career. The list of missions was long, and the challenges remained severe. Fortunately, there was still no penalty for failing a game mission. But for Lu Ke, victory was his only option, and he would give his all to achieve it.

Just as he was about to close the system, he noticed a red dot on his inbox. ’I have an unread message?’