American Football: King of the Bay Area

”I told you so.” Charles Davis’s eyes were practically glowing, bright and jubilant. He was trying his best to remain calm and composed, to keep from looking too excited, but it was no easy task.

The past month had been utter torment for Charles. Week after week of games left him feeling like he could barely breathe. A heavy weight was pressing down on his chest, a feeling he just couldn’t shake.

At the supermarket, he could feel the mocking gazes like daggers in his back. At the gas station, he would see sports news showing highlights from the San Francisco 49ers game, putting him on pins and needles. At the coffee shop, he’d hear the incessant chatter about the Chinese-American rookie quarterback, a sound that followed him like a shadow...

Lu Ke, Lu Ke, and still Lu Ke. It was all Lu Ke.

God, he lived in Los Angeles, so why was everyone talking about the San Francisco 49ers’ quarterback? The name was a nightmare, clinging to him, haunting and inescapable. Even in his dreams, he saw highlights from the 49ers’ games and Lu Ke’s face twisting into a demonic, mocking sneer.

From the very start of the season, Charles had been pessimistic about Lu Ke’s prospects. From his perspective, there was no way this quarterback had a future in the league. Four weeks in, Charles still hadn’t changed his mind about Lu Ke’s career.

He admitted he’d fallen into a paranoid rut, stubbornly and aggressively clinging to his opinion, refusing to change. It felt less like a professional analysis and more like a personal duel—a cutthroat, life-or-death confrontation. But he remained convinced that even setting aside his personal feelings, his professional opinion would be the same.

In Week 4 of the regular season, his opinion and stance were finally vindicated. Justice had been served.

Right then, all the commentators were gathered for the taping of the latest episode of ESPN’s ”Inside the Alliance.”

Before this game, the panel had been split right down the middle: five commentators for the Philadelphia Eagles and five for the San Francisco 49ers. You could feel the 49ers’ momentum growing fiercer as they steadily won more support. But in Charles’s eyes, those supporters were nothing more than fair-weather fans, jumping on the bandwagon without any real opinion of their own.

”I told you so,” Charles finally couldn’t help but repeat, his face so tight it was expressionless. But his bright eyes betrayed the joy and excitement bubbling within him. ”This team is too young. They can’t be trusted; they need more time. As the season progresses, their problems will be exposed one by one!”

”Are you saying Lu Ke is still a failed quarterback, even with a passer rating of 126.08 this week?” The one to challenge him was, once again, Spencer Larson. Unintentionally, the two commentators had become the show’s resident opposing forces.

In a way, the show’s producers were encouraging this kind of confrontation. A gimmick like that was guaranteed to send ratings through the roof.

Charles was momentarily stumped. He couldn’t bring himself to tell a barefaced lie. ”The correct way to put it is this: they are a very young team facing a host of problems, especially on offense.”

Despite his personal grudge, Charles laid out his points from a relatively objective standpoint, not only to persuade his colleagues but also to build his credibility with the television audience. A commentator who told barefaced lies wouldn’t last long in this business.

”As an undrafted player, Lu Ke’s performance has met the team’s expectations, but he’s incredibly inconsistent. No interceptions, no fumbles—the stats look great, but that doesn’t mean his performance was good enough. It’s a fact that he’s clutch in critical moments and can repeatedly create miracles. The problem is, he doesn’t seem to know how to play until it’s a critical moment. The offense is disorganized; he racks up passing yards but can’t secure first downs or put points on the board.”

As Charles spoke, a pre-edited video clip played, serving as direct evidence for his explanation. ”Who does this remind me of? Eli Manning! Or, to be more precise, a version of Eli Manning with slightly less talent and a severe lack of experience. They both have that ability to deliver a fatal blow with a long pass in a clutch moment, but without consistent play or a steady hand, they’re destined to hit a ceiling.”

”He’s not Peyton Manning, he’s not Ben Roethlisberger, and he’s certainly not Kurt Warner. He’s just a fledgling Eli Manning. Eli Manning won a Super Bowl four years ago, but Lu Ke still hasn’t reached that level or caliber. We should take a look at Eli’s rookie season stats. Do I need to remind you all?”

Charles tried to remain calm and professional, but a smug, self-satisfied air radiated from him that was impossible to conceal.

In Eli Manning’s rookie season, he got the chance to come in as a substitute in his very first game. But to help Eli adapt to the NFL’s pace, the New York Giants didn’t want to rush his development. Instead, Kurt Warner, who had been brought in during the offseason, served as the starting quarterback while Eli learned under him.

Halfway through the season, a struggling Warner handed over the starting quarterback position, and Manning took his place. After that, he started seven games, but his performance was mediocre. He threw for just 1,043 yards and six touchdowns, and the team went on a seven-game losing streak. It wasn’t until the final game of the season that he led his team to victory over the Dallas Cowboys, marking his first win as a starter.

Faced with Charles’s smugness, Spencer didn’t get angry. Instead, he let out an incredulous laugh. ”Mr. Davis, do I need to remind you of Lu Ke’s stats over the last four games? I’m not sure if Lu Ke is the next Kurt Warner or the next Peyton Manning, but one thing is certain: he’s not the next Eli Manning.”

”Let’s be honest, as a starting quarterback, Lu Ke still has a lot to work on. As you said, he’s still learning. But the team he’s leading is definitely on the right track, winning games their own way.” Spencer’s back-and-forth with Charles continued. ”We can sit here all day discussing regular season stats, training camp data, and his college career, or we can look at where the San Francisco 49ers are right now: leaders of the National League West.”

”Four games. Only four games.” Charles didn’t elaborate, simply raising his right hand and holding up four fingers. ”It’s the same for any rookie. We need time, more time for a proper evaluation. Lu Ke is no exception. We can’t lower our standards just because he’s a Chinese-American quarterback and suddenly everyone is exclaiming, ’Wow, a player of Chinese descent can actually play!’”

To his supporters, Lu Ke’s performance was already enough. But to his detractors, more proof was needed. It was just as Tony Romo said: undrafted players have to prove themselves every single moment. And as Lu Ke himself understood, a player of Chinese descent had to give two hundred percent.

”Lowering the standards? We’re holding Lu Ke to the standard of Aaron Rodgers, and he still looks like an excellent quarterback, yet you think we’re lowering the standards?” Spencer shook his head again and again, an incredulous smile on his face as if he couldn’t believe Charles’s stubbornness.

And with that, the studio erupted. Aaron Rodgers? Spencer had actually brought up elite quarterback Aaron Rodgers, which was like lighting the fuse on a powder keg. The other commentators could no longer hold back. Supporters and detractors began shouting out their opinions, each sticking to their own views, creating a lively cacophony.

In Week 1 of the regular season, the debate about Lu Ke had been almost completely one-sided. But now, after Week 4, the discussion had blossomed into a full-blown debate with a hundred different opinions.

One thing was certain: as the season progressed and Lu Ke put more performances on the record, the debate would only become more defined—

Time would ultimately prove everything; history would eventually be written. But until the dust settled, the controversy would remain. The debates and arguments would not cease until Lu Ke’s career was over.

The controversy continued to heat up. After the loss, the expected wave of desertions and curses never came. The debate between supporters and detractors was certainly intensifying, but it was undeniable that the detractors had regained the upper hand. In competitive sports, a single victory can solve everything, and likewise, a single defeat can expose everything—even one that was lost by a hair’s breadth.

The debate on ”Inside the Alliance” was merely a microcosm of the public’s widespread attention.

After last week’s game, the nickname ”Skywalker” had spread like wildfire, allowing Lu Ke’s influence to truly break free from the football world and enter the mainstream. This week, he had turned the tide at a critical moment to pull off a comeback, only to have the opponent snatch the victory back with their own comeback in under a minute. It was undoubtedly one of the most thrilling and exciting games of Week 4, and it sent Lu Ke’s media exposure even higher.

The undrafted player and the Chinese-American quarterback were already hot topics. Now, the game itself had become a massive point of focus. In the highlight reels for the week, Lu Ke’s last-second, soaring pass to Ted Ginn Jr. was named one of the top ten plays of the week, earning Lu Ke a huge new wave of fans.

One hot topic piled on another could only have one result: BANG! A total media explosion. More and more people started hearing Lu Ke’s story, which was becoming even more sensational than Kurt Warner’s miraculous ”Cinderella” rise. After all, Warner wasn’t the first Chinese-American quarterback in history.

Becoming the focus of controversy every week, triggering a media frenzy every week, creating countless headlines every week—for Lu Ke, this was slowly starting to feel normal. He was learning to ignore the off-field distractions and focus completely on his daily training.

But it seemed this was no easy task.