Chapter 217 215: Bloody Bambi
"Bambi, God, you're bleeding! Are you sure you're okay?" Lynch looked at Lu Ke, his face filled with terror, the words tumbling out of his mouth uncontrollably. He then raised his right hand high and yelled, "Medic, medic!"
"Wait, what's happening? The referee blew the whistle to stop the play." Kirk and Teddy also noticed the change on the field and quickly scanned it. "The team doctor is coming on. Who's injured? Lu Ke? No way, could it be Lu Ke who's hurt? God!" Kirk couldn't help but clutch his head, his eyes wide with shock.
"That last sack was absolutely brutal. Whether or not Atkins should be flagged for roughing the quarterback is debatable, but one thing's for sure: Lu Ke was completely defenseless against such a vicious hit. Right now, all we can hope for is that there's no injury." Teddy picked up the commentary, speaking quickly. "Let's take a look at the replay now and see what exactly happened during that sack."
On the field, Lu Ke, the man at the center of it all, just waved his hand. "I'm fine!" But Lynch paid him no mind. It wasn't just Lynch; other teammates also started to panic, crowding around him. "Bambi, what happened?"
Lu Ke was completely baffled himself. Other than being a little winded and having a tight chest, he didn't feel anything wrong. 'What's Lynch yelling about?'
Then, Lu Ke saw the team doctor appear in front of him. "Lu Ke, please take off your helmet."
"Doc, I'm fine. I'm serious." Lu Ke felt a bit helpless, but he complied and took off his helmet. He then saw the doctor give him a resigned look. "You have a nosebleed."
"Huh?" Lu Ke's mind was still replaying the sack. 'My footwork was a serious problem, and it even led to a fumble. That's just awful.' For a moment, the doctor's words didn't even register. He raised a hand to wipe his nose, only then discovering a smear of bright red. "Huh, what's this?"
'Why would I get a nosebleed while wearing a helmet?'
"Head up." The team doctor tilted Lu Ke's head back slightly and pinched his nose. After a quick look, he explained, "It's nothing, just a little impact to the bridge of your nose. It's just a small nosebleed. You don't feel dizzy, do you?"
"No, I didn't even feel the impact!" Lu Ke looked completely innocent, widening his eyes to plead his case. Then he saw the terrified expressions on his teammates' faces. They were all staring with wide eyes, as if they'd just discovered a new continent. The scene had a sort of absurd humor to it.
"Your helmet probably knocked against it during the sack. But the pain from other parts of your body distracted you, so you didn't notice." The doctor explained simply and quickly while checking him again. He placed a butterfly bandage on the bridge of his nose; the bleeding had already stopped. "Are you sure you're not dizzy or seeing stars? How many fingers am I holding up?"
After a powerful impact, a concussion is the first thing to worry about.
Lu Ke felt a wave of helplessness but didn't argue further. "Three." After the doctor changed the number twice more and Lu Ke answered correctly each time, the doctor was finally reassured. He handed Lu Ke a tissue. "Wipe off the blood, then you can put your helmet on and get back in the game."
The team doctor left, and a referee came over to ask about the situation. After confirming Lu Ke was good to go, one of the officials approached him. "Clean yourself up quickly, we're about to restart the game clock."
Lu Ke nodded. "No problem." He looked up, calling his teammates over. "We still have possession, right?" Then he noticed the terror hadn't faded from his teammates' faces. Lu Ke rolled his eyes. "Have you never seen a nosebleed before? For God's sake, it's not like we've never seen blood on a football field."
It wasn't that they'd never seen blood. It was that they'd never seen someone covered in it while still thinking about tactics and the game. And that someone was Lu Ke, a model student with a gentlemanly scholar's demeanor, nicknamed "Bambi." The image… had a real visual impact.
The teammates looked at each other. Then, out of nowhere, Logan chimed in, "Bloody Bambi is coming online. Everybody, watch out." And with that, the whole group burst out laughing.
Lu Ke shook his head, speechless. He quickly used a wet wipe to clean the bloodstains from his philtrum and around his mouth. Then he quickly put his helmet back on and threw himself back into the game. "Sorry, my mistake for not protecting the ball. But our Offense Line needs to focus. Number ninety-seven is the man to watch now. Two sacks, guys. We're not so casual that anyone can just come and go as they please."
PFFT. Unexpectedly, Lu Ke had just cracked a dirty joke.
Logan was the first to get it, letting out a snort of laughter. Then the others started laughing too, and the tense atmosphere eased slightly.
After laying out the play, Lu Ke took his position behind the Offense Line again, his gaze fixed on Atkins. He had to admit, Atkins was playing exceptionally well today. His threat level and impact were rising exponentially.
That last defensive play wasn't just a sack; it also caused a fumble and nearly resulted in a turnover. Although Lynch managed to recover the ball at the last second, the pressure on the 49ers' Offense Line was very real. First, a trick play from the 49ers, then a powerful sack from the Fierce Tiger Team—the intensity of the game was still heating up.
Lu Ke had to admit that the fumble was entirely his fault, and he even bore some of the responsibility for the sack.
Among Lu Ke's many specialized skills, two had always been overlooked. One was his Fake Pass Action, rated at only forty-five points. The other was his ball protection ability, at just fifty-nine points.
The so-called Fake Pass Action is essentially the play-action pass, involving the quarterback's running route, passing motion, and ability to conceal the football. A truly brilliant play-action completely fools the Defense Line; everyone thinks it's a run, while the quarterback slips out of the pocket with the ball, completely unnoticed, giving himself enough time and space to complete a pass.
The so-called ball protection ability is simpler: it's a quarterback's ability to protect the football and not fumble when being tackled, hit, or sacked. This skill is related to physical attributes, but that's not the whole story. To be precise, even physically strong players like running backs and Tight Ends have to deal with the problem of "butterfingers" and fumbles.
Ball protection ability is more of a technique. The way a player holds the ball in the cradle of their arm, the positioning of their hands and body—these determine the framework for protecting the ball. But the player's awareness of ball security is the key factor.
For example, for a Wide Receiver, the first priority after catching the ball should be securing and protecting it. The next step is evading defenders and advancing downfield. But in games, many Wide Receivers start thinking about how to break through or tear apart the defense the moment they catch the ball, and a moment of carelessness often leads to a fumble from "butterfingers," sometimes without even being touched by a defender.
That is the difference in ball security awareness.
For Lu Ke, both of these skills were subpar.
Before this, his play-action fakes weren't deceptive enough, but because his passing attack was so potent, it still created enough space for the running backs, so it wasn't a major problem. As for his ball protection ability, as long as the Offense Line provided good protection, the quarterback didn't have to face hits and sacks, so there was naturally no cause for concern.
But in that last play, his play-action was read, and then he failed to protect the football. A performance like that was certainly hard to be satisfied with.
The game had just started, and this was already his second mistake.
Away games were truly tough to play. Lu Ke's rhythm was completely off. Moreover, faced with Atkins's dominant performance, the momentum swung back and forth, and the clash between the two sides was truly creating sparks. Today's competition was getting fierce—unexpected, yet it also made sense.
It was unexpected because the Cincinnati Bengals weren't considered a strong opponent; last year, they were even worse off than the 49ers. And they were only 1-1 in the first two weeks of this year. It made sense because in the NFL, there are no guaranteed weaklings; the outcome of any given week is unpredictable.
Sacked twice and forced into one hurried throw, all before the first quarter was even halfway over. This was a severe challenge for any quarterback; the intensity of the matchup was far beyond what he had imagined.
Physical confrontation isn't a quarterback's strong suit. After being sacked hard multiple times, the body's defense mechanisms kick in. When facing another powerful rush, many quarterbacks instinctively become flustered. Their passing choices might become hasty, their footwork might get messy, and in the worst-case scenario, they become afraid to throw. When the Offense Line breaks down, they'll choose to just throw the ball away, ending the play to avoid more contact.
This is a self-preservation instinct, and it's not just quarterbacks; other players can face the same situation. Or, after an injury, their performance is inevitably affected upon returning to the field.
But for Lu Ke, there was no such worry. If he wanted to avoid physical contact, he could have chosen sports like swimming or running—activities with no direct collisions, where the contest is more about competing with and surpassing oneself. Since he had chosen football, Lu Ke knew exactly what he was signing up for.
He wouldn't be intimidated, and he wouldn't back down. Quite the opposite, Lu Ke was actually starting to get excited, shaking off the constraints of the away game and throwing himself heart and soul into the competition. 'This isn't about any "mission" anymore. It's only about winning or losing.'
Through his helmet, Lu Ke's gaze was locked onto Atkins. Power against power, hard against hard, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. The metallic scent of blood drifted up from under his nose, like the smell of slaughter beginning to spread. Lu Ke lightly licked his lips, pulled his gaze back, and scanned the defensive players, carefully and meticulously studying their formation as a play began to take shape in his mind.
He glanced at the play clock out of the corner of his eye. Fifteen seconds left, but he wasn't the least bit nervous. He raised his voice and yelled, "London! London! Go London!" Amid the roaring cheers of the home crowd, Lu Ke's voice was like a series of heavy punches, striking right back at them.