American Football: King of the Bay Area

”Hike!”

Lu Ke’s voice exploded in Michael Crabtree’s ears. Without hesitation, he lowered his head and charged forward, running a short slant to the left. He pushed his speed to the absolute limit, as if he were back at the Rookie Training Camp, testing his forty-yard dash all over again. Pumping his arms hard, he could hear the wind whistling past his ears.

To his right, he could see a figure shadowing his every move—Orlando Scandrick, the cornerback in one-on-one coverage, stuck to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake.

But Crabtree didn’t try to shake him. He just accelerated, and accelerated again. Twenty-seven yards. Not long, but not short either. He could almost hear the ticking of a stopwatch in his head. ’Faster,’ he thought, ’I need to be faster.’

Amid the anxiety and tension, his mind was crystal clear. After his feet crossed the five-yard line, he turned, slowed down, and looked up. And there it was—the football, beginning its descent. Just as he expected, Lu Ke had thrown the ball to him with almost no delay, a smooth release on a Rainbow Pass.

Before the snap, Lu Ke had told him, ”Michael, you have the height advantage.”

Crabtree was 6’1” (185 cm), while Scandrick was 5’8” (178 cm). The height difference was a good few inches. Was it an insurmountable gap? No. But Crabtree also weighed in at 215 pounds (98 kg), while Scandrick was only 195 pounds (88 kg). All in all, Crabtree was simply a size bigger than Scandrick.

So, Crabtree focused intently, his eyes locked on the football, tracking its trajectory. He could feel Scandrick pressing in on him, the shoves and pressure of his body weight trying to throw off his footwork. But Crabtree was prepared. With one large stride, he sidestepped Scandrick’s attempt to box him out, and then...

He leaped high into the air!

Sprint, leap, reach. It was a sequence he had repeated hundreds, thousands of times in practice. Crabtree launched himself into the air, only to find the ball’s arc was a little behind him. So he stretched his body to its absolute limit, like a carp leaping over the dragon gate, bending backward from his waist, further and further, creating a graceful arc.

His hands shot out and snatched the football. The next second, he felt the leather texture in his palms, holding it tight, so tight. A single thought flashed through his mind: ’Don’t let go! Don’t let go!’ He twisted his body in mid-air and landed firmly on both feet. Instantly, every muscle in his body tensed. ’Stay in bounds! Stay in bounds! Stay in bounds!’

Crabtree used every ounce of his strength to control his leg muscles, making sure both feet landed inside the End Zone. A second later, a violent shove from behind sent him flying. With his balance gone, Crabtree was launched through the air. He only came to his senses then, managing to control his body in time to avoid injury.

But was it a Touchdown? Was the catch legal? Were his feet in bounds? Was it a successful Touchdown?

”Shotgun Formation! After the snap, Lu Ke takes a quick drop back, gives it just one look, and lets it fly! A very fast release, giving the Cowboys almost no time to react! He’s aiming for the back-left corner of the End Zone!”

Troy’s eyes were wide, glued to the action, afraid to miss a single thrilling moment.

”The arc on the pass is a little high, looks like the accuracy might be a bit... No! No! It’s perfect! Crabtree uses his height and size advantage, leaping high to overpower Scandrick! Plucks it out of the air! He makes the catch clean! The catch is good! The Catch! The Catch! In 1981, Joe Montana connected with Dwight Clark for ’The Catch,’ and today it has happened again! The Catch! Jesus Christ! The Catch has been recreated!”

Troy’s voice hit a fever pitch, so sharp it was on the verge of cracking, but he didn’t even notice. He slowly rose to his feet, screaming like a teenage girl who’d just seen her idol.

”San Francisco 49ers’ number fourteen quarterback, Lu Ke, with a twenty-seven-yard pass, successfully connects with Michael Crabtree! The two of them have completed The Catch! From the Shotgun Formation, Lu Ke’s release time was just 1.86 seconds! He completed this pass with an absolute tactical advantage! In this matchup, he fully exploited Crabtree’s size advantage to dominate Scandrick, who has been playing outstandingly tonight! Not only did he complete The Catch, but he also scored the Touchdown!”

Troy didn’t even notice that his headset had fallen to the floor. He was on his feet, gripping the microphone with both hands like a rock star, roaring with fanaticism. All the passion in his body erupted, surging out of him.

”Thirty years later! On an NFL field, after a thirty-year wait, in a game between the Dallas Cowboys and the San Francisco 49ers, The Catch has returned! Lu Ke, the first Chinese-American quarterback in the history of the Alliance, has replicated the pass of Hall of Fame quarterback Joe Montana! Incredible! That was truly incredible! Absolutely magnificent!”

Troy could barely feel his own voice anymore, but the passion and excitement continued to well up inside him. Seventeen seconds on the clock, second and ten, the San Francisco 49ers needed a Touchdown, and so, Lu Ke delivered a Touchdown! This was a moment where reversing the impossible becomes possible, precisely the kind of moment that makes sports so captivating.

”God! We are witnessing history! History!” Troy gushed, not caring that his voice was now completely hoarse. ”The Alliance’s first starting Chinese-American quarterback! He’s made history! Right before our eyes! This is a great game, and that was a great pass! I can’t believe what I’m hearing myself say, but I’m saying it: this first-year rookie has proven himself once again. He has the potential to become an outstanding quarterback—or maybe even, a great one!”

”Wow! Wow!” His unending stream of words finally paused for a moment, filled only with awe. Troy leaned forward involuntarily. ”The referee is confirming the legality of the catch just now. Let’s look at the replay. Left foot, right foot, control of the ball... No problem. Absolutely no problem at all. That is a legal catch. That is a Touchdown!”

The referee’s signal came only a moment later. He gave the gesture for a secure catch, then raised both arms high, signaling: Touchdown confirmed!

”AHHHH!” Chris Wilson leaped high into the air, all the hidden strength in his body bursting forth. He clenched his fists and roared, roaring wildly, ”AHHHH!”

Even so, his emotions were still erupting like a volcano. Every cell in his body seemed to open up, breathing freely, screaming freely, joining the thunderous roar of the entire stadium.

”The Catch! The Catch!” Chris turned to the stranger next to him, shouting at the top of his lungs.

A classic, reborn. Thirty years later, in a showdown between Alliance arch-rivals, the San Francisco 49ers and the Dallas Cowboys, with seventeen seconds left, The Catch appeared once more!

The stranger in the next seat, eyes wide with uncontrollable excitement, yelled back, ”The Catch!”

Repeated, again and again, endlessly, like an infinite loop. It wasn’t just Chris and the fan next to him. The veteran fans in Candlestick Park were all chanting the same phrase. It was like a spell, like a creed. One voice after another joined in, until it became a massive, unified roar from all fifty thousand 49ers fans in attendance, shouting in unison:

”The Catch!”

The twenty thousand or so Dallas Cowboys fans looked ashen-faced, their eyes bloodshot. Frustration, humiliation, pain, anger! Losing the game wasn’t the worst part. ”The Catch”—that was the worst part. Thirty years felt like a full circle, and they were reliving the nightmare all over again.

’Is this nightmare going to last another thirty years?’ they wondered.

”The Catch! The Catch! The Catch!” The entire stadium roared in a collective cheer—earth-shattering, heaven-storming. The whole of Candlestick Park began to shake violently, as if struck by a magnitude ten earthquake. It even seemed to stir Fierce Waves in the nearby Bay Area, the sound of crashing waves piercing the clouds and echoing under the sky, as if the entire city, the entire Bay Area, was answering the call.

At this very moment, standing in the middle of the field was like standing on top of the world. Lu Ke clenched his fists and let out a mighty roar, ”AH! AH!” His gaze fell upon the frenzied fans before him, a sea of erupting lava, and he bellowed, ”Who is the king! Who is the king! AH!” The torrential roar erupted from the depths of his Dantian, surging out endlessly.

All the pressure, all the passion, all the emotions—completely and utterly released!

”You are the king! You are the king!” Not far away, Logan Newman came sprinting over, his eyes bloodshot and veins bulging, shouting fanatically. Then he leaped hard onto Lu Ke, waving his right hand as if he were the hero who had completed ”The Catch.” ”Bambi! Bambi!”

The other players swarmed in, fanatically surrounding Lu Ke. Michael Crabtree rushed over too, roaring—just roaring—joining the ranks of his teammates and all the fans in the stadium.

On the field, off the field, in the commentary booth, in front of televisions, listening to radios—everyone was gasping in amazement, an endless stream of astonishment. The surging emotions were creating a wave of energy comparable to the sun, igniting the climax of the second week of the regular season!

The celebration was getting a little out of control, and the referees had to step in to calm things down, seeking out the key figure for the San Francisco 49ers: Lu Ke.

”The game isn’t over yet. You still have the extra point,” the referee said. Lu Ke nodded repeatedly to show he understood and quickly shouted, ”Guys! Guys! Calm down! The game’s not over! We need the special teams guys to finish this!”

Touchdown scored, six points. And so, the score between the San Francisco 49ers and the Dallas Cowboys was now ”20-20,” a tie.

With nine seconds left on the clock, the San Francisco 49ers’ special teams officially took the field. They would now attempt the extra point kick. Success would mean a walk-off win. Failure would mean a tie and heading into overtime.

Lu Ke led the offense back to the sideline and saw the team’s kicker, David Akens, walking forward. His expression was a mix of excitement and determination. He pumped his fist, cheering for Lu Ke and psyching himself up.