Jay Fox tore toward the editor-in-chief’s office, his shoes skidding across the floor. Plenty of people greeted him along the way, but Jay had no intention of slowing down, not even taking a moment to wave. He kept running full-tilt, bursting into the office like a tornado, and immediately saw a figure in his path. He slammed on the brakes, nearly crashing right into them.

"Jay! Are you crazy!?" Emily Povor, caught completely off guard, couldn’t react in time. Although he didn’t actually hit her, the books in her hands tumbled to the floor. Emily was exasperated. Crouching down to pick up her books, she grumbled teasingly, "Don’t just come barreling in here. This is just the school paper, not the *Los Angeles Times*. There’s no news that requires you to race against the clock."

Jay quickly knelt to help, chuckling sheepishly. "Emily, sorry, sorry. My bad, completely." After quickly gathering everything, he didn’t immediately hand the books back. Instead, he asked, "Do you have a minute?"

Emily reached for her books, but seeing Jay’s sycophantic grin, she immediately became wary. "What is it? I’m on my way to class. If it’s something important, wait until I get back. I’ll be here all afternoon doing layout in the editing room."

"I’ll walk with you," Jay said with a grin, clutching the books and leading the way. Emily narrowed her eyes at him but ultimately said nothing, just started walking quickly. Jay fell into step beside her. "I want to write an article."

"Then write one," Emily said bluntly. She was the editor-in-chief of the school paper and a senior journalism student. While not every staff member was a journalism major, they certainly made up the majority, and Jay was one of them. "When you’re done, bring it to the story meeting for discussion. Didn’t you just say last week that you were too busy at the start of the new semester and weren’t planning to write any articles for a while?"

"An exception! This is an exception," Jay explained hurriedly. "I was thinking... I can get the article finished before this afternoon. You have to get this piece into the first issue of the new semester." Today was the deadline. He didn’t have time for meetings or long waits; he had to act fast, and going straight to Emily was the most direct approach.

"Are you crazy?" Emily made a face, completely exasperated. But as a fellow journalist, she understood the importance of timeliness. So, she asked, "Alright, spill. What’s the story that has you so excited?"

"The first official player of Chinese descent in the Brown Bear Team’s history!" Jay didn’t beat around the bush. His words made Emily stop dead in her tracks.

The United States is a nation of immigrants, its very foundation built by people from all corners of the world. But racial integration has always been an issue, and racial discrimination is rampant. Even now, in 2010, the hierarchies of discrimination—whites against blacks, blacks against Latinos and Asians, and even against Jews and Arabs—persisted, permeating every aspect of life.

This was even more true in the world of sports. Black players had appeared on the professional football field as early as the 1920s, and professional baseball broke its color barrier in the 1940s. But nearly a century had passed, and there had still never been a player of Asian descent in the NFL, let alone one of Chinese descent. It wasn’t until last year that the first player of Chinese descent appeared in the NFL, but he wasn’t a starter—just an expendable rotational player.

Some people claimed it was a disparity in physical talent, but was that the truth? In reality, players of Chinese descent had gradually found their place in basketball, baseball, and even ice hockey—not to mention soccer. At that very moment, Yao Ming was still a beloved basketball superstar. But when it came to the football field, it was still uncharted territory for players of Chinese descent. To be precise, the same went for Asian players in general. Was it really just about physical talent? Unlikely.

It wasn’t just in the professional leagues. Even in college sports, Asian players were few and far between. As far as Emily could remember, there had never been an Asian player in the Brown Bear Team’s entire history.

When it came to championing racial integration, cultural fusion, and diversity, California had always been at the forefront among all states in the US. For the Brown Bear Team, representing one of California’s most renowned universities, to be the first to have a player of Chinese descent—this was an undeniably monumental step forward for multiculturalism. It could even be considered one of the biggest news stories of the year!

As Lu Ke’s roommate, Jay’s first reaction to the news was to be happy for his friend. He knew better than anyone how much effort Lu Ke had put in; he deserved this. His second reaction was to spread the word. Jay was keenly aware of the attention this news would attract. More importantly, if Lu Ke could use this as a stepping stone to enter the draft, it would be a story that sent shockwaves across the country!

’As for the professional league...’ That was a distant future, a distant goal. Jay wasn’t that delusional—not yet. But just the thought of it was enough to get his blood pumping. Jay understood the value of this story better than anyone. He wanted to see it in print immediately, before the new season even began.

That was why he had recklessly intercepted Emily, trying to snag a spot in the paper before the deadline. And it seemed he had succeeded. With just one sentence, he had captured her full attention. Her pupils dilated, her expression grew excited, and she stopped walking. "A starter?" she asked impatiently.

Jay’s expression froze for a second before he chuckled. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. One step at a time. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know."

"A backup?" Emily’s expression immediately soured.

Jay said quickly, "Hey, Emily, it’s still a major step forward! When you’re making history, no one can predict how it’ll end, right? It’s like Martin Luther King Jr. back in the day..."

Emily rolled her eyes and started walking again. "God, you can’t be serious. Are you really equating this Chinese kid with Dr. King?" Jay just shrugged with a noncommittal smile. Emily had to take a deep breath. "Jay, you know that if he’s just a backup, there’s no story here. The whole team has almost sixty players, and less than half of them ever see the field. Backup players get zero attention, so there’s no point in writing about them."

"Come on, Emily. You of all people should know how important this one small step is!" Jay pleaded. "I know a backup might never get a chance to play, that he might warm the bench forever. But think about Seabiscuit! Yeah, Seabiscuit! No one believed in him at first, but he worked miracles. All we need is to believe in a little miracle."

Seabiscuit was a racehorse from the Great Depression era in the United States. He was considered a horse with no talent—undersized, with clumsy-looking legs, and a stubborn, headstrong personality. Nearly everyone believed he could never be a real racehorse; he was destined for either farm work or euthanasia.

But after many trials and tribulations, someone finally discovered his hidden talent and cultivated it. Against all odds, Seabiscuit went on to achieve one impossible victory after another, becoming an icon who lifted the American spirit during the Great Depression and helped lead the people out of despair.

"First Martin Luther King Jr., and now Seabiscuit?" Emily looked at Jay, exasperated, but couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head. "I’m just telling you, nobody wants to read a story about a backup. A backup might not even play. Even if we publish it, it won’t get any attention."

Jay didn’t say a word. He just clasped his hands together, putting on his most pitiful, pleading face.

Emily stopped walking again and let out a long sigh. "Five hundred words. Five hundred words, max." That was all the confirmation he needed. Jay immediately let out a whoop of joy. Emily continued, "Get it to me before three this afternoon. I’ll try to find a spot for it. But I’m warning you, nobody’s going to care. Probably not even the other Chinese students. You know they don’t watch football."

Jay, however, nodded unconcernedly. Just the thought that he could finally write an article for Lu Ke was enough to leave him feeling completely satisfied.

Emily chuckled, shaking her head. "Can I have my books back now? I assume you don’t need your hostage anymore." Jay quickly handed the books to Emily. "See you this afternoon! Thanks, Emily! You know, you look absolutely stunning today!" he said, backing away before finally turning around and breaking into a full-on cheer.

Emily straightened the books in her arms and called after him, "Three o’clock! Don’t be late!" But Jay was already cheering as he disappeared down the hall, and she had no idea if he’d even heard her. Emily shook her head helplessly and turned to leave. It was only after a couple of steps that she realized something. ’Wait, who? Which player was it? I completely forgot to ask his name!’

With a wry smile, Emily didn’t dwell on it and started jogging toward her classroom.

In the fall semester of 2010, the first issue of the UCLA school newspaper ran the following story:

Lu Ke, a student of Chinese descent, has become an official member of the Brown Bear Team, making the game-day roster. He is the first player of Chinese descent to appear on the official football roster in the team’s history—and the first Asian player to achieve such a feat. This not only marks a significant moment in the history of football but also represents a major step forward in overcoming racial barriers. This is of the utmost importance to both the university and the team.

With the new NCAA season about to begin, the highly anticipated Brown Bear Team had already dropped a bombshell. This was also the first time Lu Ke’s name had ever appeared in print.