Dominate the Super Bowl

Opposite, Watson simply could not believe this scene, angrily taking off his helmet, cursing and muttering to himself all the way to the Tigers’ rest area, his dark complexion could rival the bottom of a pot, the swearing wouldn’t stop.

The situation, once again, quietly shifted.

At this moment, Sweeney also realized his mistake, but it was too late for regrets. Turning around, he saw Lawrence and the others’ eager looks, hesitated no more, waved his hand boldly, and the main players took to the field—

If it had come to this, then victory was a must.

In competitive sports, there was nothing that a victory couldn’t solve; if they won, all mistakes would vanish like smoke, and the Tigers’ spring preparations could conclude with a perfect ending.

Sweeney’s eyes radiated determination:

"Crimson Tide Storm’s offense VS Tigers’ Defense Squad."

The weak points of the two teams could be the key to deciding the outcome of the game, but Sweeney was confident, as long as they could stop this offensive wave, Watson would take the field again to clinch the victory.

Everything hinged on this moment.

Lawrence didn’t think twice; seeing the coach’s signal, he pushed off the ground and rushed out, returning to the field in a sprinter’s burst, scanning the crowd, he instantly caught sight of that figure—

Number twenty-three.

A smile appeared on Lawrence’s lips, was that guy ready? He wasn’t Farrell; he was about to show what a real defensive line was, and that the starting position wasn’t earned through backdoors—Farrell couldn’t even carry his shoes.

Li Wei felt a chill on the back of his neck, goosebumps erupting uncontrollably, turning reflexively to spot Lawrence’s figure in the crowd.

Clearly, Lawrence made no attempt to conceal his intentions; not only that, but when their eyes clashed, he raised his right thumb, gently dragged it across his throat, and revealed a set of white teeth with a wide grin.

"Haha.

Hahaha.

You will remember me well, my name will become your nightly nightmare, waking each night from fear and shame—I’ll take good care of you."

With a skyward howl, Lawrence seemed very pleased with the intimidation he’d just expressed, then put on his helmet and took his position within the defensive group’s lineup.

Li Wei: What’s his name again?

Li Wei also donned his helmet, joining Beteman’s ranks to prepare for the lineup—

Just now, Foster had intercepted at near midfield, unable to launch a counterattack due to being surrounded, but still secured an offensive starting position at the forty-seven-yard line of their own half for Crimson Tide Storm.

That meant that Crimson Tide Storm needed only two first downs to enter field goal range.

For the Tigers Defense Squad, this was indeed a daunting task, but not just for Lawrence—Watkins and Wilkins were all brimming with confidence. They had toughened up the Crimson Tide’s main offensive group in the first half; the second half would be no different—

They simply had to choke off number twenty-three’s offensive point, just like they had done to Derrick Henry last year.

They feared not even Derrick Henry, so why would they be afraid of the skinny, willow-like number twenty-three before them?

They were ready.

Li Wei, noticing the gaze of the Tigers Defense Squad, stood in the pocket, with the offensive and defensive formations clearly in sight. This was something Li Wei had learned from training modeled after Adrian Peterson.

Not only quarterbacks needed to read the defensive formation—running backs did too; otherwise, running backs would often blindly hit walls, purely exhausting themselves without advancing the ball.

The entire defensive formation was obviously pressing forward. Not just the defensive line, but the linemen and the safety had also moved up slightly. The aim was twofold: one was to compress the quarterback’s short passing space and to tighten the running back’s ground advancement space; the other was to seek opportunities to pressure the quarterback, and even to pursue a sack.

The Tigers Defense Squad’s fangs were fully exposed.

This was the challenge Hertz and Jacobs faced in the first half, and now it was Beteman’s and Li Wei’s turn to experience it.

Among these, there was one detail—

All the Black-faced Yamas were solely focusing on Li Wei, and even though they tried to maintain poker faces, their peripheral vision couldn’t help but drift toward him. Their nerves were completely tense.

Were they treating Li Wei as they would Derrick Henry?

Subconsciously, Li Wei turned his head to look at Saban. They inadvertently exchanged glances. Saban did not show any reaction, but instead gave tactical instructions to Beteman. However, in that brief moment of eye contact, Saban revealed a hint of admiration.

Coaches are responsible for devising tactics, and before executing them, players also need to understand these tactics. It’s precisely because of the deviation in the players’ understanding that unexpected situations can arise during the final game.

Saban knew that Li Wei understood his tactics. The key now was whether the Tigers’ young and aggressive players understood Sweeney’s tactics?

Indeed, Sweeney needed to apply pressure at the front line. Beteman was not a player who could walk through pressure with ease. This was also the fundamental reason Saban chose Hertz as the main quarterback—though Hertz too was still young and needed more polishing. The Tigers’ front-line pressure and rushing tactics were correct.

But the young defensive players’ attention was completely captured by Li Wei.

This was still correct, at least the tactics hadn’t deviated from Sweeney’s plan, but the details were not precise enough, leaving room for Saban to exploit. Explore stories at мѵʟ

The tactic, issue the command—

"Attack!"

Beteman signaled the start of play, took the football from the center, and immediately turned around. Within two crossover steps, he was already converging with the advancing Li Wei. Beteman stuffed the football into Li Wei’s arms.

Lawrence: Got you!

Stamping the ground, starting, sprinting.

Lawrence’s advance was very firm, watching number twenty-three intently, who clearly sensed the heightened intensity of the defense. He made a feint, first swaying towards the middle but it was just a bluff; he then swiftly cut to the right. His speed exploded after the feint.

In today’s game, both instances of significant ground gains were made through the right.

Lawrence wasn’t fooled. He planted his feet, came to a sudden halt, then quickly changed direction with a sharp lateral move. He shook off the opposing Cotton instantly, demonstrating abilities far superior to Farrell’s, at least at the current stage—more mature and more dominant. He tore through the offensive line’s blocking with a single yank.

With a push, Lawrence broke free from Cotton’s grasp and dove forward like lightning. He wasn’t taking things lightly. His focus was entirely on the technique of the tackle; he wasn’t going to miss the grab like that idiot Farrell.

Number twenty-three was within reach.

Lawrence was elated.

It was only half a beat too late when he realized something was amiss. Number twenty-three seemed to be crashing into him in an embrace.

So, was it Lawrence who tackled number twenty-three, or was it number twenty-three who tackled Lawrence?

At that moment, in the corner of Lawrence’s eye, he caught a glimpse of a deep brown rainbow arc streaking across the sky—

What... what’s going on? Why was the football up there?

Turning his gaze back to the front, Lawrence saw number twenty-three’s face magnify in his pupils. Everything went dark as his whole body was flipped:

Surprise!