American Football: King of the Bay Area

”Who?” Lu Ke’s brow furrowed in confusion, as if he didn’t understand the reporter’s question.

The reporter had no choice but to raise his voice and ask again, ”I’m talking about Richard Sherman. Before the game, he was constantly questioning your abilities...”

”Right, and I’m asking, who?” Lu Ke cut the reporter off, repeating his question. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a joke on his face, only pure earnestness.

The reporters exchanged glances, and then it slowly dawned on them: in today’s game, Sherman had been practically invisible. Lu Ke had completed at least six passes against his coverage, every single one of them a crucial play, including two touchdowns. In the matchup between Lu Ke and Sherman, the latter had been utterly dominated. They weren’t even on the same level; it was never even a contest.

It was no exaggeration to say that Sherman had been completely destroyed today, so much so that the reporters couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be psychologically scarred—after all, this was the first game of his professional career.

So, it was just as Lu Ke said: Who? He didn’t need to care who his opponent was, and he hadn’t been targeting him at all. Amidst his fluid, seamless offense, the opposing defender was nothing more than a small pebble in his path.

As glances were exchanged, the reporters grew even more excited.

Peyton Manning and Tom Brady were masters at handling the media, smooth and experienced. But both were old foxes, first-class at giving canned, PR-friendly answers, and never leaving any exploitable soundbites. This was great for their teams but terrible for the media—no bombshells meant no news.

But now, this Chinese-American quarterback standing before them not only shattered the stereotype of the reserved Asian but also showed a sharp edge. It wasn’t the rambling sharpness of a trash-talker, but an assertive strength that was tactful and composed, yet wise, experienced, and capable of a fatal blow. For the reporters, it was like discovering a new world!

First humor, and now this display of strength? God, the reporters felt like their veins would burst. They had truly hit the jackpot today.

”Do you have anything to say to Pete Carroll?” a reporter asked, eager to fan the flames.

Lu Ke flashed a brilliant smile. ”I hope they found the right quarterback.”

The exact same sentence, yet its meaning was entirely different before and after the game. The reporters were instantly buzzing with excitement.

What sent the reporters into a frenzy was what happened later when they tried to interview Seattle Seahawks head coach Pete. He roughly shoved their microphones aside and bit out a simple reply, ”He should learn to stay humble. We’ll see him at our home field in Seattle.” With that, he stormed out of the interview area.

Headlines, headlines, so many headlines!

A clamor of questions came in an endless stream: about his college experience, his journey as an undrafted player, his thoughts on today’s performance, his opinion of his teammates, his opinion of his coach... The questions were relentless.

It went on until Kip came running out, shielding Lu Ke and apologizing profusely. ”The player has to get back to the locker room. We just finished a tough game, let’s let him get some rest!” Then, he started to escort Lu Ke away.

The reporters on the periphery were undeterred. It had been a long time since they’d encountered an interviewee who could hold his own so well, and they weren’t about to let him go that easily. ”Lu Ke, one last question! Just one! Do you have anything you want to say to the San Francisco 49ers fans?”

”Show my parents some respect!” Lu Ke turned his head, his voice ringing out, firm and resolute. A sharp light flashed in his pitch-black eyes, its message so clear and precise that a chill went through every reporter present.

Standing in the crowd, Brian Westbrook, a commentator and reporter for the San Francisco Chronicle, watched Lu Ke’s retreating back and couldn’t help but give a wry smile. He had an indescribable feeling: the San Francisco 49ers fans seemed to have touched a nerve that should never be touched. They had gained a quarterback of immense talent and sharp edges, but he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

If Lu Ke could keep winning, it would be a good thing; the entire city would cheer for him. But Lu Ke was just a rookie with no real support base. The moment he started losing, his words today would bring a devastating firestorm down upon him.

Brian let out a long breath, the taste on his tongue a mix of emotions. Alex Smith was a mild-mannered, friendly quarterback. Now, the 49ers had one with a vividly different style. What the future held, no one could predict.

But Brian immediately shook his head, clearing away the tangled thoughts. This was only the first game of the season. Putting aside the question of whether Lu Ke could even hold onto the starting quarterback job—Alex Smith and Colin Kaepernick were due back from injury soon—the next game alone, against the Dallas Cowboys, was going to be a brutal fight.

’We’ll just have to wait and see.’

The future was impossible to predict for now, but one thing was certain: the storm had arrived. After the first game, the San Francisco 49ers fans were swept up in a frenzy of celebration. Not only had they won their season opener, but they had also displayed a completely new energy. The toughness, swagger, and vitality they showed throughout the game was full of hope, truly opening up the infinite possibilities for the rest of the season.

For the fans, it didn’t matter if they had to eat their words. It didn’t matter if their judgment had been wrong. It didn’t even matter that one moment they were condemning him and the next they were praising him. Right here, right now, the only thing that mattered was the win!

Everyone—truly, everyone—joined the wild celebration. A victory so satisfying, so full of grit—it had been a long time coming. A very, very long time. They cheered, celebrated, and savored it all to their hearts’ content.

And so, the entire city erupted.

But for the commentators, analysts, and experts, the result of the game was a bitter pill to swallow. In fact, it was a complete and utter disaster.

The slaps to their faces came one after another, a continuous, stinging barrage. They had been thoroughly and utterly humiliated. Lu Ke’s five touchdowns over the course of the game, each one more resounding and more brutal than the last, had slapped the ”pundits” into stunned silence.

The numerous professionals couldn’t find a rational explanation: Why had an undrafted player become the most outstanding player in the entire Alliance during the opening week? How had he posted such explosive numbers for both quarterback rating and PFF score? He had, almost without question, become the brightest star of the week.

Everyone was completely baffled.

Amidst the chaos and controversy, Charles Davis was at the eye of the storm. This famous professional commentator from ESPN had, on the pre-game show, gone out of his way to mock, ridicule, and belittle Lu Ke, making his contempt clear. But now, the truth had slapped him squarely in the face.

For Charles, such a result was truly difficult to accept. His chest felt tight with frustration. To make matters worse, the other members of the show started piling on, constantly prodding his raw nerves.

Edward Bowen stepped in to fulfill his role as host. ”Charles, Charles...” He called out Charles’s name to stop the others from piling on and restore some order to the set. ”Let’s face reality. In the first regular-season game, this rookie Chinese-American quarterback’s performance was perfect! Flawless! What are your thoughts on that?”

”A joke.” Charles wasn’t one to admit defeat and shot back without hesitation. ”Yes, I said it, a joke! Like you said, it’s just the first game. It means nothing! Tim Tebow had six passing touchdowns and six rushing touchdowns in the last three games of last season!”

Tim Tebow, a 2010 rookie, was a unique figure in both the NCAA and the NFL:

He was a devout Christian who attributed every victory and all success on the field to God. His celebration after every touchdown was to kneel on one knee and thank God. It wasn’t his athletic talent, his hard work, or the combined efforts of his teammates and coaches—it was God.

Once or twice, people accepted it gracefully out of respect for his personal faith. But he didn’t know when to tone it down, and it escalated to the point that the Alliance was forced to enact a ”Tebow Rule.”

In football, to prevent glare from obscuring their vision, players often smear black grease paint under their eyes, especially quarterbacks. However, Tim took to writing Bible verse references, like ”John 3:16,” on his eye black, which became a distraction in every game.

The Alliance had no choice but to implement a rule prohibiting any text or symbols on the eye black.

Beyond that, Tim’s actual abilities were repeatedly questioned. He scored a mere twenty-two on the Fonderick test, his understanding of the playbook was terrible, and he was pretty much limited to running the wildcat formation—

To put it simply, the wildcat formation has a running back take the snap like a quarterback, while the quarterback lines up elsewhere, often as a wide receiver, to confuse the defense. It’s one of the simplest, most brutish tactics, even at the college level, because the quarterback isn’t acting like a quarterback at all—more like a tight end or a wide receiver. At that point, is there even a need for the quarterback to be in that position?

To sum it all up, Tim Tebow was the laughingstock of the entire Alliance.

By comparing Lu Ke to Tim Tebow, Charles’s attitude was made crystal clear.

After his initial burst of anger, Charles calmed down, his thoughts becoming clearer. ”What I mean is, a player having one spectacular, heaven-defying performance that gets the whole Alliance buzzing... there are countless examples of that throughout history!”

”But this was the first game of his career!” Spencer Larson, another commentator on their show, ”Inside the Alliance,” interjected.

”Yes, I know.” Charles raised both hands and chopped them down sharply. ”He’s a rookie, but this is still nothing to get worked up about!”

”This rookie quarterback was facing the Seattle Seahawks, the first team in history to make the playoffs with a losing record. Last year, they gave up an average of 25.4 points per game. He scored 35 points against a Defense Team that was in complete shambles? Forgive me, but I’m not impressed.”

With just a couple of simple sentences, Charles laid down his verdict. ”It was just a one-time lucky fluke. It’s not worth analyzing, and it’s certainly not worth praising. He’s a flash in the pan, and he’ll be exposed for what he truly is soon enough!”

As he spoke, Charles’s confidence returned. He looked at Spencer and Edward and sneered, ”The fact that people are actually comparing him to top-tier quarterbacks like Rodgers, Brady, and Bruce... I can’t see any other reason for it besides the Alliance pushing some political correctness agenda.”

Wait, what?