American Football: King of the Bay Area

Sixty-nine seconds. The final offensive drive.

For a quarterback, it wasn't just about completing passes. Clock management was equally crucial, which made play-calling all the more difficult.

During a drive, many receivers, after making a successful catch, would often get too greedy and try to keep advancing with the ball. But even without defenders in their way, a player's running speed couldn't compare to the flight speed of the football. In other words, in the time a player spent advancing the ball, the quarterback could have already completed a pass for the next play. The difference in efficiency was immense.

So, a receiver's greed was fatal when it came to clock management.

By the same token, the defenders' strategy would also change. If they were out of position and allowed a catch, they would opt to tackle the receiver and keep them inbounds, preventing them from stopping the clock and letting time continue to run down. With two or three seconds bleeding away on every play, the game clock would run out quickly.

Now, Lu Ke was stressing again and again: don't get greedy, you have to get out of bounds.

After he finished giving instructions, Lu Ke felt a scorching gaze on him. He looked up and saw Vernon Davis.

Vernon looked like he wanted to say something, his expression hard to read. But after muttering to himself, he ultimately said nothing. He averted his gaze, feigning an attentive listening posture.

Lu Ke, however, didn't look away. Starting with Vernon, his gaze swept over every player. For this game, sixty-nine seconds was the last chance to achieve victory. And for Lu Ke, sixty-nine seconds was his last chance to fight for the starting quarterback position.

Sixty-nine seconds, or one minute and nine seconds. In real life, that's not even enough time to get a glass of water. But on the field of sport, it was enough for a sea change, enough to turn the world upside down!

His blood was gradually beginning to boil.

"Any more questions?" Lu Ke's firm and blazing eyes revealed a powerful, decisive aura. The desire and determination for victory were chilling. "Then, let's go get some touchdowns."

Touchdowns. Not singular, but plural. The confidence and dominance in that casual remark instantly triggered an adrenaline rush!

Then, everyone began to rub their hands together, eager to go. They grinned as Lu Ke was the first to extend his right hand. One by one, their own right hands piled on top. The Offense Line players from the back also joined in. Lu Ke raised his voice and shouted, "Game on!" Everyone thrust their arms high into the sky, pointing toward a touchdown!

On the field, the punt began.

But the San Francisco 49ers didn't opt for a return. The moment the returner caught the football, he immediately signaled for a fair catch. A return was too difficult and consumed too much time, and time was the one thing the 49ers couldn't afford to waste—

The Dallas Cowboys special teams' punt had been high and soaring, eating up three seconds. And so, sixty-six seconds remained on the clock. Starting position for the offense: their own thirty-yard line.

Chris Wilson felt like he was about to vomit. He was at the peak of nervousness, the peak of excitement. His stomach was churning, and his tense muscles began to spasm.

Today's game was just too intense. The dramatic, fluctuating storyline was like a free-fall ride—up and down, rise and fall, one series after another. His heart felt like it was about to overload and go on strike. After the thrilling, panicked emotions reached their peak, the urge to flee in disarray grew stronger and stronger.

But Chris didn't turn and leave. Regardless of victory or defeat, he knew he had to witness the result of the game with his own eyes.

On one hand, he told himself not to get his hopes up too high. The team's quarterback had been inconsistent, with his ups and downs. He was still just a rookie, after all. To expect a first-year player to carry the team to a comeback with only sixty-six seconds on the clock was simply too much to ask.

But on the other hand, he couldn't help but feel a rising sense of anticipation. 'What if they score a touchdown? What if they make a comeback? What if they beat the Cowboys? What if... a miracle happens?'

His contradictory and tangled thoughts were like a rollercoaster, traversing three centuries in just three short seconds.

"Come on! Kid! Come on!" Chris clenched his fists, squeezing them tight. His muscles tensed to their absolute limit, and the sound got stuck in his throat, leaving only a muffled, guttural rumble that no one but himself could understand—

Of course, no one was listening anyway.

The entire stadium was restless yet suppressed. There were no cheers or shouts, but it wasn't completely silent either. Roars tried to break free from throats, to make some noise, but tense muscles stifled all the excitement. So, it was all stuck in-between, leaving only an indistinct cacophony, like the roar of a jet engine flying low overhead.

The game had reached a do-or-die moment!

Sixty-six seconds, from their own thirty-yard line.

After taking the field, Lu Ke was unhurried and methodical, showing no signs of tension or anxiety. It was as if he hadn't noticed how little time was left, as if he hadn't noticed his team was still trailing. This was just another perfectly normal offensive drive.

Calling the play, lining up the formation, reading the defense. Lu Ke went through the entire process meticulously, step by step. The more stifling the noise in the stadium, the more tense the atmosphere, the calmer and clearer his thoughts became—sharper than ever before.

At this very moment, all eyes in the world were focused on him. Not just the fans, not just the commentators, but even every player on the Dallas Cowboys. Countless burning gazes were fixed on Lu Ke alone. Could this rookie quarterback turn the tide?

For the 49ers offense, Lu Ke emptied the backfield.

Emptying the backfield was essentially a Shotgun Formation, taken to an extreme. There were no players behind Lu Ke. The running back was either positioned to the side of the quarterback, standing parallel, or stood diagonally in front to act as a receiver or blocker. This was an extreme passing formation.

Five players on the Offense Line were spread out in a line. To the left was Michael Crabtree. To the right were Kyle Williams, Ted Ginn Jr., and Logan Newman, arranged in a triangle formation with Logan at the point. Marcus Lynch stood to Lu Ke's front right, just two paces behind Ted.

The entire right side was stacked with four potential receivers, heavily unbalanced.

The opposing Cowboys Defense Team pressed the line, abandoning their run defense. Seven players were arrayed on the front line. However, on their left side, to counter the 49ers' single-wing look, they had also assigned two linebackers to reinforce the defense, with a cornerback positioned five yards behind them.

The other cornerback, Orlando Scandrick, stood in front of Michael Crabtree, locked in one-on-one coverage.

In the backfield, two safeties were positioned in the left and right halves of the field, one in front of the other. One of them was clearly pressed up, which meant the other player was covering the deep half of the field.

The entire defensive formation was crystal clear. Lu Ke could faintly predict the players' upcoming movements. It was a temptation. The entire Long Pass Area was like a luscious, ripe strawberry, enticing the quarterback to make the throw. 'Should I go for the long pass? Should I target the right side? Should I look for the Tight End?'

The problem was, there were only sixty-six seconds left in the game. Even if there was an opening in the Long Pass Area, he couldn't take the risk.

The reasons were simple. First, a long pass required more preparation time. A short pass might only take one or two seconds, while a long pass needed three or four, and that was before adding the ball's air time and the time to make the catch. It was too time-consuming.

Second, a long pass came with more uncertainty. A quarterback's long pass routes were primarily focused on the middle of the field. If thrown toward the sideline, it was very likely to go straight out of bounds, wasting time without a completion. At the same time, if the pass landed in the middle of the field, the receiver wouldn't be able to get out of bounds immediately after the catch, which was bad for clock management.

Of course, if a long pass succeeded, it would be a fatal blow. But the risk was too great.

Facing such a crucial defensive stand, the Dallas Cowboys would absolutely not be careless in their secondary. To be more precise, the entire Cowboys defense wouldn't let its guard down. Lu Ke hadn't forgotten their containment and pressure from the first half. For both the Cowboys and the 49ers, a single mistake could cost them the game!

'So, what's the right choice for the pass?'

"Hike!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Lu Ke started the play. After receiving the snap, he backpedaled, a quick drop back.

Lu Ke didn't even glance to his right, where four receivers were clustered. He simply adjusted his stance, without any thought or hesitation, and raised his arm to throw to the left. He had already adjusted for the pass during his drop back, almost at the same instant as the snap.

The Defense Line had no time to rush or provide coverage. They could only reactively follow the offensive players' routes, moving into tight coverage. But in their peripheral vision, they caught sight of Lu Ke's throwing motion. By then, trying to readjust their balance and make up the coverage was almost impossible.

And so, it came down to a one-on-one: "Michael Crabtree vs. Orlando Scandrick."

At the snap, Crabtree exploded forward, head down, sprinting on a slant route toward the sideline, pushing his speed to the absolute limit.

Scandrick ran hard, sticking close to Crabtree while constantly looking back to watch the quarterback's throwing lane and motion—

His peripheral vision caught the quarterback's motion. The football was flying in his direction. It was a bullet pass, with a very flat arc, almost no parabola at all, aimed at a spot near the sideline.

Scandrick was completely focused, plastering himself to Crabtree, but he was still half a step too slow. He reached out his hand, trying to break up the pass, but in the next second, he realized something was wrong.

The pass... seemed to be off-target. It wasn't coming toward Crabtree's chest but was a little higher, a little farther out, flying over Crabtree's shoulder like an arrow!

'Could it be an incomplete pass? Did Lu Ke make a mistake?'