American Football: King of the Bay Area

Chapter 381: Chapter 378: The Ad Goes Live

JJ Watt, the highly anticipated defensive tackle and first-round rookie pick for the Houston Texans.

Watt had made a huge splash back at the Rookie Training Camp. His frenzied, beast-like training and relentless focus had earned him a reputation among the rookies, but his single-minded approach also created a powerful, unapproachable aura.

By the end of the camp, Watt had made almost no friends. In his view, the Rookie Training Camp wasn’t the place for socializing anyway—he considered it a pure waste of time. Lu Ke, however, was the sole exception. The two had unexpectedly become friends through training, and their friendship had endured. They still spoke often, even during the hectic regular season.

“Watt, tell me, how many times do you really need to watch game film?” With no preamble, Lu Ke got straight to the point.

Watt, on the other end of the line, didn’t miss a beat. He answered reflexively, “At least five times. First, you watch for the overall picture. Second, you watch the Offense Line. Third, you watch the quarterback. Fourth, you rewatch the whole thing again. Fifth, you watch it one more time against your notes. If you need to, you can keep repeating the process.”

Lu Ke turned to Curry and spread his hands. “See? I’m not the only one. There’s a method to watching game film. A pro athlete’s training isn’t just in the gym and on the field. The prep work, note-taking, and discussions in the tactics room are also incredibly important.”

With that, Lu Ke raised an eyebrow at Curry. “Don’t tell me you guys in the NBA don’t do this?”

“God, basketball tactics aren’t nearly as complex as football, okay? We have plenty of maniacs on our team, but they’re nothing compared to you guys,” Curry immediately protested.

Having been in the Professional Alliance for two years, of course Curry knew how to watch game film. But it was undeniable that the big-picture strategy in football was far more comprehensive and complex. In comparison, the breakdowns in basketball weren’t nearly as detailed, so the methods and content of film study were vastly different.

For the past two years, Curry had felt that his tactical arsenal was missing something, that it was limiting his performance on the court, but he could never quite put his finger on it. When he asked his teammates and coaches, they all shared the same opinion: there was no problem, and Curry was just overthinking it.

Now, talking with Lu Ke, Curry had a faint feeling he was finally finding the key.

“Basketball? Bambi, what’s going on? You have company?” Watt, on the other end of the line, finally realized something was up.

Lu Ke put the phone on speaker. “JJ Watt, Stephen Curry. Stephen Curry, JJ Watt. Now that introductions are out of the way, Watt, we were just discussing how to grasp the big picture on the field…”

“Hang on, hang on.” Curry held up his hands, stopping the fast-talking Lu Ke. “If I remember correctly, JJ Watt plays for the Houston Texans, right? Are you sure it’s okay for us to be discussing tactics here?”

“Didn’t you just say you haven’t watched any football for the last two years?” Lu Ke threw in a random jab. Curry froze for a second before catching on, then chuckled awkwardly. Lu Ke continued, “Relax, I’m not about to leak any team secrets. JJ and I are just exchanging some training tips. Besides, do you really think I need to leak secrets to beat the Texans?”

Lu Ke would never, of course, discuss the playbook or its core secrets with Watt.

In fact, when the two of them talked, they rarely brought up games or each other’s performances during the regular season, let alone tactics. Their conversations were mostly about training—basic training. That was precisely how two players on different teams and at different positions had become such good friends.

“You sure you want to test that on the field? Me and you, one-on-one?” Watt rumbled.

“…” Lu Ke fell silent, then theatrically changed the subject. “Alright, back to basic training. JJ, I remember you played hockey, basketball, and baseball in high school, right? Is it really like Stephen said? Are the training methods completely different?”

Standing at the doorway of the great room, Lech watched Lu Ke and Curry—and Watt on the other end of the line—enter a state of heated debate. The three of them, huddled around a single phone, chirped away with their opinions. In less than three minutes, they had completely lost themselves in the conversation. The speed and intensity of their focus were dumbfounding.

Feeling both exasperated and pleased, Lech gently shook his head. He went ahead and ordered them some takeout—pizza. It was simple, direct, convenient, and fast. Plus, they could eat while watching film; it was the perfect choice for a night in. Then, without saying goodbye, Lech quietly left, leaving the entire space to the group of young men.

Lech felt like his life had been full of surprises ever since signing Lu Ke.

In an NFL that was growing more and more professionalized and formulaic, he was once again seeing a surge of vibrant life. People saw the Aura of his five-and-one record and the glory of an Undrafted Player making a stunning debut, but they didn’t see the painstaking effort Lu Ke put in behind the scenes. If Lu Ke’s meteoric rise could inspire more minorities to join the sport of football, it would undoubtedly be a wonderful thing.

…

For professional players, the precious rest of a bye week was undoubtedly a welcome, relaxing break, a chance to let their taut nerves unwind. But for the fans, a bye week was just an empty void, a long stretch of time that seemed to have no end.

Jonathan Baldwin was one such fan. He counted the days on his fingers: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday… Logically, Thursday Night Football was just around the corner, which meant the regular Sunday game day wasn’t far off either. But then he suddenly remembered that the San Francisco 49ers had no game this Sunday, and his spirits instantly plummeted.

The only saving grace was that on Wednesday, Under Armour was holding an official press conference in San Francisco to announce their endorsement deal with Lu Ke. It was a chance to get a close look at Lu Ke off the field.

Standing in the lobby of the Under Armour flagship store, Jonathan stared, dumbfounded, at the sea of people.

Jonathan had assumed that as a rookie quarterback with only six games under his belt, Lu Ke was still just starting to make a name for himself. And while the old-guard fans like him showed loyal support, it was more for the team than for Lu Ke the person.

He had naturally assumed that not too many people would show up for today’s press conference and fan meet-and-greet.

But now, the surging, bustling crowd—at least six hundred, maybe even eight hundred people by his estimation—had packed the store’s ground-floor lobby so tightly that it was impassable, with the crowd even spilling out onto the street. This left Jonathan completely bewildered. He couldn’t make sense of it, and the first thought that popped into his head was:

‘Did Under Armour pay people to show up and pack the place?’

However, that thought lasted less than ten seconds before it vanished.

Excited chatter filled his ears. People were all discussing the final, game-winning drive from last week’s game. It had produced so many incredible moments, and the offense led by Lu Ke had displayed immense confidence and resilience. It was truly stunning.

“Lu Ke! It had to be Lu Ke. Last week’s Player of the Week was definitely Lu Ke. How could it have been Bradshaw?”

“I agree, completely. I mean, Bradshaw’s performance was excellent, but Lu Ke absolutely crushed him. What’s wrong with the Alliance? Are they blind or something?”

For Week 6 of the regular season, the National League’s Offensive Player of the Week award went to New York Giants running back Ahmed Bradshaw. In the game against the Buffalo Bills, the running back had rushed for 104 yards and scored all three of his team’s touchdowns, leading them to a 27-24 victory while Eli Manning was in a slump.

The buzzing discussion drew more and more attention, and gradually, the surrounding fans all joined in. They weren’t just talking about the recent victory over the Detroit Lions; it seemed every single one of the past six regular season weeks offered endless topics for debate. Even the loss against the Philadelphia Eagles was a game they couldn’t stop talking about.

In a daze, Jonathan felt as if he were back at Joe’s Bar, surrounded by that bunch of old-timers, rambling on and sharing their opinions, their lives revolving entirely around football. Except, the crowd of fans before him was much younger, much more vibrant—

Jonathan looked around and only then realized that most of the fans were young people, looking to be in their early twenties and brimming with energy. After so many years, the city was once again buzzing with life because of football, the spirit of Candlestick Park rekindled. He hadn’t seen a sight like this in a long time.

Unable to contain his excitement, Jonathan jumped into the discussion as well. “I think so too…”

The lively discussion and excited mood made the wait much more interesting. After the hubbub of the press conference, a short fan meet-and-greet was held. Every fan could get in line to buy a jersey and meet Lu Ke face-to-face for a handshake, an autograph, and a photo.

It was obvious that Under Armour was a little underprepared; they clearly hadn’t anticipated such a massive turnout.

An Undrafted Player, a player of Chinese Descent, a rookie who had only played six games—yet he had, steadily and surely, carved out a place for himself in the city with his performance. A single press conference drew more than eight hundred fans, true diehards, and ignited a buzz throughout the city.

For Under Armour, this was a delightful surprise.

The excitement in the venue was slowly building to a fever pitch. When Lu Ke, now in a set of casual clothes, reappeared on stage, the cheers and shouts from the crowd erupted like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just random yelling, but a unified chant that once again conjured the grand atmosphere of Candlestick Park:

“We are! Warriors!”