Dominate the Super Bowl

"Li Wei, sorry..."

Jonah Williams, the starting right tackle for Crimson Tide Storm, extended his right hand to Li Wei and helped him up.

On his face, Williams wore guilt and embarrassment, discomfort and frustration, with a thousand words on the tip of his tongue, not knowing how to express them.

So, in the end, it all turned into one sentence.

"Sorry."

Clearly, Williams felt that he had not done his job; he should have blocked the lineman, at least held him off for a moment, instead of letting Li Wei constantly be exposed to the opposition's hunting circle. Besides anger and annoyance, what was more prevalent was a sense of powerlessness and helplessness, his cheeks written with irritation and disappointment.

Li Wei tried to comfort Williams—

It wasn't his fault. Louisiana State University really came prepared today and executed impeccably, following through with their plan from the start.

Everything was, in a word, perfect.

But as Li Wei was about to speak, he noticed that not only Williams, but the other members of the offensive group too were panting heavily, their gazes slightly lost.

The atmosphere was oppressive.

Crimson Tide Storm was not a team that couldn't handle pressure. Under Saban's ironclad management, this team's mental fortitude was supposed to be unbreakable. Otherwise, they would not have been able to turn the tide with just Li Wei alone against the University of Mississippi; the triumph had still come from teamwork.

The issue was, having had a smooth season so far, the team didn't get discouraged after hitting a sudden wall at the start. Instead, they were spurred with high morale to mount a frontal assault, presuming that the opponent surely wouldn't withstand their charge, only to run into consecutive walls again.

A forceful effort could wane after a while, and be exhausted at the third encounter.

Crimson Tide Storm didn't just hit the wall once, twice, or three times, but multiple times over a dozen until now, from the first until the second half of the game, and even after half-time adjustments, they still hadn't managed to find a breakthrough.

Even the most steadfast and resilient will could not help but waver, as the seeds of self-doubt silently took root and sprouted; the situation and the mindset had begun to change imperceptibly.

How should they break the deadlock?

They racked their brains, but no answers came. They were trapped like this, even seeking Saban's help yielded no solution—

Saban wasn't adept at offense.

Even though Saban was always seeking changes and trying, he was ultimately just a coach; the game still had to be played by the players.

With one look around, one could see Saban standing on the side of the field, expressionless, his face severe; though not panicking, he didn't show any negative emotions, but anyone truly familiar with Saban could tell that the situation was grim, very grim indeed.

Even someone as experienced as Saban was dealing with a tricky situation at this moment.

At such a time, they needed a leader, a spiritual leader, a tactical leader, a field leader, to step forward and turn the tide.

Indeed, football is a team sport, and relying solely on individual heroism ultimately cannot dictate the outcome of a game. Whether it's a quarterback or a running back, they need the support of their teammates, or else, if they fall into disarray, there's only one path left to follow: continuing to sink and crumble.

But!

Team sports need a leader, a pillar, a cornerstone, like the North Star guiding through the long night, to lead them out of distress and unite the team firmly. To make every player play their role in their position and move forward shoulder to shoulder.

Subconsciously, the players were all searching—

Hertz?

Generally speaking, the quarterback is indeed the soul of football, the commander on the field, but... the young Hertz was also looking bewildered now.

Cam Robinson?

This left tackle was the captain of Crimson Tide Storm's offensive group, responsible for protecting the quarterback's blind side.

Without a doubt, Robinson was the most composed, seasoned, and calm player in the offensive group, but he wasn't showy, passionate, or extroverted. More often than not, he stood behind the team like a support system. He was the team's last line of defense, guarding the final sanity of the offensive group, ensuring it wouldn't scatter into disarray.

At this moment, Robinson didn't know how to begin.

To be precise, he knew he should be shouting, he knew he should be boosting morale, he knew he should be igniting passion, but he didn't know what to say.

Still tongue-tied.

When he looked up, Robinson saw Li Wei—

He didn't know why, it was just instinct, he subconsciously looked towards Li Wei.

Li Wei was in a sorry state, very, very sorry indeed.

His cheeks were flushed, he was sweating profusely, his damp hair stuck to his forehead as if he had just crawled out of water, panting like a bull. His white away-game jersey was already marked green and black from the grass, no different from a rag, clearly showing the traces of rough treatment and friction.

Like medals of honor.

But, Li Wei was not discouraged.

Far from it, his eyes sparkled with excitement and joy, like a cheetah, his tongue tinged with the scent of blood, his murderous intent flowing forth.

—Seven times.

A total of seven times, that was how many times Li Wei had hit the wall head-on, and that was just the first half of the game, already surpassing the number of times in any game this season; to be exact, it was more than the total of the last three games combined. Stay connected with empire

Running into a wall was not the same as being tackled.

Being tackled was part of a running back's daily grind, encountering double-digit tackles in a game was not uncommon; but running into a wall was different, it meant the running back met an unyielding barrier head-on without being able to advance, unable to start, break through, or dodge, being firmly denied by the defensive group.

Without a doubt, these were very ugly and dire numbers.

For an average player, they might have been so demoralized by hitting the wall that their confidence collapsed, even becoming afraid to look the opposing defenders in the eye, developing a heart demon.

However, Li Wei hadn't.

For the better part of the season, things had gone smoothly for Li Wei, and he had come to think that football was simply like this, but now, a new challenge had arisen before him—

Things were finally getting interesting.

A formidable opponent?

Yes, a formidable opponent, how exhilarating, how exciting, the world of competitive sports is about continually challenging powerful adversaries, pushing limits, challenging oneself—it's the most interesting part, differing disciplines and sports all lead to the same path, interpreting the meaning of life in such a way.

Strong, truly strong, but beautifully so, marvelously so, they needed just such an opponent!

If Crimson Tide Storm wanted to compete for the championship, wanted to become an even better team, they had to face such trials and tests.

Li Wei noticed Robinson's gaze, looked up, and his smile gently lifted at the corners of his mouth, only then noticing the taste of blood on his tongue, probably from being hit in the lips during the double tackle. Li Wei couldn't help but savor it, his smile becoming even more radiant and bright.

Involuntarily, Robinson was taken aback.

Strangely, without uttering a word, Li Wei's gaze and actions seemed to steady Robinson's wavering spirit, serving as a pillar.

Then Li Wei walked toward Hertz, bumped him with his shoulder, encouraged Hertz with his eyes, reminding him to get into formation.

Robinson took a deep breath, called for his teammates to prepare for formation, but found there was no need to speak; the Crimson Tide Storm's offensive group was already spontaneously starting to form up. No one spoke, yet the air was filled with a subdued and tragically beautiful atmosphere.

The wind howls, Yao waters are chilled!