Jeff’s every muscle was taut. Ever since Number 11’s first successful pass, he felt like he had forgotten how to breathe. He stared wide-eyed, his gaze glued to every move on the field, forgetting to cheer, forgetting his anxiety, even forgetting the hated rivals across the field.

His heart slowly rose until it was lodged in his throat, almost ready to burst out, but Jeff’s eyes remained glued to the field. And then, he witnessed the most unforgettable moment of the night—

After the snap, Number 11 began a quick backpedal, rapidly creating distance between himself and the Offense Line. His footwork was steady and quick as he shuffled sideways, guiding the entire team’s movement toward the right. Marcus shadowed Number 11, staying close and waiting for his chance, looking ready at any moment to take the handoff and run the ball.

The entire play developed so quickly that the defensive players had no time to react. At that moment, the entire defensive unit was in complete disarray, unable to mount an effective defense. They seemed undecided. ’Are we supposed to rush the quarterback for a sack? Defend the run and stop Marcus from getting another huge gain? Or defend the pass? Short? Medium? Long?’

The Trojans’ defensive players were running around without any rhyme or reason; their positioning was a total mess. They seemed lost in the face of the Brown Bear Team’s torrential offense, unable to find any way to stop it. Defense was out of the question.

The defense’s poor performance gave the Offense Line plenty of time and space, which in turn gave Number 11 ample time to scan the field and set his feet. But why hadn’t he thrown the ball yet?

Jeff couldn’t figure it out, and more importantly, he didn’t have time to think. He was just anxious, incredibly anxious. His stomach began to cramp with nervousness. He clenched his fists, his body tensing to the point of being completely rigid. A few seconds felt like an entire century. And then, Number 11 finally let it fly!

He reared back and fired.

Jeff’s eyes locked onto the football. It climbed higher, and higher, and higher still. The arc it traced was so perfect, so round, so high. After reaching its apex, it began to descend, its forward momentum carrying it past the thirty-yard line, the twenty, the ten, the End Zone...

Jesus Christ!

’Was that a bomb, aimed directly for the End Zone?’ Jeff felt his heart stop. It was as if time itself had frozen. ’But was there anyone in the End Zone?’

There was. John Ward.

The entire End Zone was wide open. By the time Jeff spotted John Ward, the Trojans’ defensive players were just starting to react, scrambling toward him like starving wolves. But it was too late. The nearest defender was more than fifteen yards away. They could only watch helplessly as Ward extended his hands, effortlessly cradled the football, and came to a stop, standing his ground.

The spot where his two feet were planted was, unmistakably, the End Zone! An arrow through the heart! A fatal blow!

TWEEET! The whistle sliced through the air. Jeff’s jaw dropped in disbelief. He shot up from his seat, screaming, "Touchdown! Touchdown!" He was so excited that he choked on his own spit and broke into a violent coughing fit, but that did nothing to dampen his sheer joy and elation. He jumped, waved his arms, and screamed like a madman, "Touchdown!"

As he jumped, Jeff grabbed Nate, who was also on his feet cheering with his arms in the air, and pulled him into a fierce hug. The two of them screamed wildly, "AHHHHHH!", as if they had already won the game. It was the only way to vent the turbulent, boiling emotions inside them; the only way to express what they were truly feeling.

The Rose Bowl erupted into chaos. The Brown Bear Team supporters were celebrating wildly, not for a victory, but for the long-awaited resurgence of their offense. Although less than a third of the Bear Team’s fans remained—the rest having already left—their cheers and shouts were like a welcome rain after a long drought, breathing life back into the Rose Bowl.

The Trojans Team supporters, on the other hand, were stunned. Some had no idea what had just happened; the Touchdown was scored before they could even process it. Some were furious, screaming at their own defensive players to vent their anger and telling them to get their heads in the game. Others started cheering louder, trying to rally their team. After all, they were still winning.

"Bambi! Bambi!" Marcus was the first to charge over, crashing into Lu Ke and hugging him tight, his every movement conveying the sheer joy in his heart. But before Lu Ke could even react, the rest of the Offense Line swarmed in, completely surrounding him. The cacophony of roars, shouts, and cheers was deafening, hammering against Lu Ke’s eardrums until it felt like the entire world was a wall of sound.

The emotions that had been suppressed the entire game had finally found an outlet.

"Calm down! Calm down!" Justin Edison, the captain of the Brown Bear Team’s Defense Team, ran onto the field and started pulling the celebrating teammates apart. He clapped Lu Ke hard on the shoulder. "Man, that was beautiful! But the game’s not over!"

Pure, unadulterated joy rampaged through Lu Ke’s mind like a dragon shedding its chains, desperately seeking an outlet. But Justin’s words snapped Lu Ke back to reality. He had to take a deep breath, then another, silently reminding himself: ’A Touchdown is worth celebrating, but it’s only the first step. Victory is the ultimate goal!’

"Alright guys, let’s clear the field for our boys! Let them work their magic." Lu Ke bumped his fist against Justin’s shoulder. "It’s the Defense Team’s time to shine!"

Justin gave him a thumbs-up. "Time for us to show what we can do!" The Defense Team had been completely pinned down by their opponents all game, and it was beyond frustrating. Now that the offense had come back to life, they couldn’t afford to be outdone. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to show their faces afterward.

As Lu Ke and the offense guys headed off the field, they saw the members of the Defense Team with their right hands raised high. Logan was the first to run past, slapping hands with each of them in celebration. The gloom that had hung over the Brown Bear Team all night was finally starting to lift, and the sounds of cheering and celebration began to swell once more.

Marcus bumped Lu Ke’s shoulder with his own and said with a wide grin, "Everyone’s waiting for you, Mr. Number Eleven." With that, Marcus ran ahead, jumping to slap hands with every teammate. Lu Ke followed right behind, raising his own left hand high, hitting one palm after another, truly feeling the trust and support of fighting shoulder to shoulder.

Standing at the very end of the line were the three coaches, and Anthony.

Rick looked at the beaming Lu Ke and deliberately put on a stern face. "You know, you completely ignored the play call out there. That’s not how we do things, is it?"

In football, there can be as many as twenty thousand offensive plays. Even if a quarterback memorized the entire playbook, it would be impossible for him to analyze and choose the best play in a split second. A quarterback isn’t a computer, after all. It’s a team effort.

In the pros, it’s not just the head coach and offensive coordinator on the sidelines calling plays. There are also teams up in the boxes, looking down on the field, analyzing every single offensive and defensive down. They report their findings to the head coach, who then adjusts the strategy accordingly.

In other words, calling the play for every down requires direct communication between the coach and the quarterback.

However, the split-second decisions during the play are still up to the quarterback. It’s also the quarterback’s job to change the play at the line of scrimmage based on the defensive formation. That’s exactly what just happened.

It all happened so fast. Lu Ke made the right read, and the offense flowed forward, wave after relentless wave, before Rick even had a chance to consult with his staff or give a new command. Rick had considered stopping Lu Ke, slowing the tempo to reset the play, but after a moment’s hesitation, he kept his mouth shut.

Clearly, it had been the right choice.

But that was one situation. A quarterback needs to be in communication with his coaches. Football isn’t a one-man show; the battle isn’t just fought by the players on the field. Rick needed his backup quarterback to understand that.

Lu Ke looked at Rick’s stern expression and, without arguing, nodded seriously to show he understood.

Rick couldn’t help but chuckle. He didn’t say anything more, just patted Lu Ke’s arm. "Outstanding work! Now, let’s talk about our next offensive series. We’ll leave the rest to the guys on the Defense Team!"

Only after he sat down on the bench did Lu Ke notice that his fingertips were trembling slightly. The delayed rush of adrenaline and excitement was finally hitting him, making it all feel real.

After being thrust into the game at a critical moment, Lu Ke had no time to think, no time to get excited. He was thrown into the action without a moment to breathe, and none of it had felt real.

Only now did reality begin to sink into his veins. Lu Ke realized that he had just played in his first official NCAA game, and as a semi-professional player, he had just thrown his first career touchdown pass in an official game.

’The dream... it’s finally come true.’

Coming back to his senses, Lu Ke slowly, slowly clenched his fists. He loved that feeling of being on a knife’s edge, the near-suffocating pressure. He loved the feeling of being in control of the entire field, of two armies clashing. The sound of his own heartbeat was so clear, pounding against his eardrums, a beautiful rhythm he never wanted to end. After just one taste, he was already in love with it!

He looked up at the stands of the Rose Bowl. Even with so many empty seats, the sight was still spectacular. It felt like standing at the center of the world, basking in the heat of the spotlights. It was all so intoxicating. He couldn’t wait to get back out there for the next offensive series!