Chapter 268 266: Gathering Together
On the East Coast of North America, the showdown between the Philadelphia Eagles and the San Francisco 49ers captured everyone's attention—not because of any history between the two teams, but because both quarterbacks were natural headline-grabbers.
One was a veteran with a tumultuous career who had returned to his peak last year. This season, he was making a determined push for the Super Bowl, and after losing at home to a division rival last week, he was desperate to bounce back. The other had burst onto the scene out of nowhere. After a debut reminiscent of the ugly duckling, he had blossomed into a radiant star, making league history with every step.
The matchup between the two quarterbacks effortlessly generated a ton of buzz, drawing eyes from all over. Among this week's slate of Sunday regular season games, this one was unequivocally the main event.
Meanwhile, on the West Coast of North America, the city of San Francisco was also buzzing. All eyes were turned toward the City of Brotherly Love on the other side of the continent, following the latest from this week's NFL matchup.
No one can resist a victory. Against all expectations, the San Francisco 49ers had inconceivably racked up a three-game winning streak, instantly becoming the darlings of the city. People wondered with a mix of belief and doubt, 'Could they actually have a shot at the playoffs this year?' Even the most pessimistic skeptics were starting to waver—
Nobody hates winning.
This was especially true after Friday's team press conference, where Jim Hubble confirmed that Lu Ke had emerged victorious from a direct competition among the four quarterbacks. He had beaten out both Alex Smith and Colin Kaepernick, genuinely winning over the coaching staff with his skill.
Hope began to bloom.
Of course, the fans still warned themselves not to get their hopes up—the higher the expectation, the greater the disappointment. At the end of the day, Lu Ke was a rookie quarterback. Putting all his other flaws and issues aside, every rookie quarterback needed time to develop. A three-game winning streak was already incredible enough; they needed to be more patient, more level-headed.
But deep down, excitement and exhilaration were slowly starting to spread. Week by week, the rookie quarterback was chipping away at the icy reserve of San Francisco's die-hard fans, winning their approval one step at a time.
Chris Wilson pushed open the door to Joe's Bar. The moment he stepped inside, every eye in the place turned to him.
The bar was packed to the brim. Everyone was wearing the San Francisco 49ers' white away jerseys, a vast expanse under the creamy yellow lights. The small space, holding no more than fifty or sixty people, somehow created the visual effect of a vast ocean. It was a spectacular sight.
He scanned the room, meeting the gazes that were sizing him up, but ignored them and walked toward the bar with a grim expression. He clearly wanted to be left alone, but just as clearly, the others weren't about to let him off the hook. "Chris, how come you're not in Philadelphia supporting Bambi this week? Pockets a little light? Can't afford the trip?"
"Shut up, Jonathan!" Chris snapped back, his temper flaring like a lit fuse.
Jonathan Baldwin was taken aback, his brow furrowing slightly. "What's wrong, Chris? Can't take a joke anymore?"
"No, I can't," Chris shot back without hesitation, his eyes wide.
"The team needs us right now! They have momentum, and we should be giving them more support, more encouragement! These young guys couldn't be doing any better, especially Bambi. Look at how he plays out there! He's working harder and fighting with more grit than any of us who call ourselves die-hard fans. But what are you so-called fans doing?"
Looking at the familiar faces before him, Chris felt as if he were seeing complete strangers. An indescribable rage slammed against his ribs. "You're undermining them, you're rooting against them, you're just standing on the sidelines! Three wins, and that's still not enough to earn your support? So what are you all waiting for? For them to lose? Will you be happy then, if the team fails and proves your doubts right?"
The words tumbled out in a torrent, spit flying, as Chris unleashed all his pent-up fury. His tirade wasn't just for Jonathan, but for every single fan in the bar.
'The team needed their support, and Bambi needed their encouragement. But all they did was pour cold water on everything, standing by with cold indifference, even seeming to look forward to the team's failure. Since when had they become so jaded and critical? Were three wins still not enough to move them?'
'Could it be... because of Lu Ke's Chinese descent?'
Chris didn't want to jump to that conclusion, but faced with these apathetic fans, he felt as if the team were fighting all alone. It broke his heart. He met everyone's gaze without flinching, his own expression fierce and defiant. "Disgraceful! I'm ashamed of all of you! You don't deserve to call yourselves 49ers!"
His sharp words made the fans in the bar avert their eyes and fall silent. The air grew uncomfortable, awkward, and everyone seemed at a loss. That included Jonathan, who stood rooted to the spot with his head bowed, not saying a word, as if trying to disappear.
Looking at the fans, who were now like a pool of stagnant water, Chris felt a surge of frustration. He opened his mouth to say something more, but in the end, said nothing. His shoulders slumped in disappointment as he walked sullenly to the bar and nodded at the owner, Anthony Tinozzo. "A beer."
Anthony grabbed a mug, poured a large beer from the tap, and set it on the counter. "How come you didn't go to Philadelphia?" he asked calmly.
After his outburst, Chris's anger began to subside. Faced with the same question, he didn't fly off the handle this time. "Couldn't get tickets. The Eagles fans bought them all up, didn't leave a single one for away fans. Even if we'd gone, we wouldn't have been able to get into the stadium to support the team."
Last week's trip to Cincinnati had been a rare exception, after all.
Chris had been tempted to make the trip to Philadelphia anyway. Even if he couldn't get into Lincoln Financial Field, he wanted to cheer from outside the stadium, to show the young players with his actions that their fans were still a solid wall behind them. But he was just a regular working guy, and money was tight. If he'd managed to get tickets, he would've just gone for it, but alas...
At that thought, another wave of frustration washed over Chris. "If our own ticket sales..." Attendance at Candlestick Park for the first two home games of the season had been decent, but the stadium was still not sold out, and the crowd had been completely dead. He cut himself off mid-sentence, sullenly raising his beer and taking a long gulp.
Anthony glanced over at Jonathan, who stood awkwardly in an open space for a moment before turning and walking back to his seat in silence. Anthony looked away from him and said comfortingly to Chris, "Chris, we've gotten used to losing. With this sudden success, nobody dares to believe it's real. Maybe we just need more time."
"But—" Chris said urgently.
But Anthony shook his head firmly. "At least they all showed up. Look, my bar is packed today. In a little while, people will probably have to start sitting on the pool table. Deep down, we all crave a win. This is our team!" Anthony pointed to the San Francisco 49ers flag on the wall behind him, then said no more and went back to his work.
Chris stared at the flag, lost in thought for a moment.
"We're all 49ers! We're all 49ers!" An excited cheer erupted, accompanied by the heavy sound of the bar door being pushed open, instantly drawing the eyes of everyone inside.
A group of young guys flooded in like a tidal wave. One of them, shouldering a flag, tried to wave it but had to be careful not to hit the ceiling, making his movements look rather comical.
Jeff Locke, at the head of the group, took in the stunned silence of the bar and threw his arms open. "What's wrong? Isn't this supposed to be a 49ers fan bar?"
"Hey, Jeff!" Chris immediately stood up and hurried over, pulling Jeff into a big hug. "You guys found the place! Welcome, welcome!" He warmly hugged each of the guys: Nate Chandler, Danny Rice, Noah Parker, and Cliff Hart, who was still wrestling with the fan banner.
Since they hadn't been able to buy tickets for the away game this week, they had all come to Joe's Bar to watch the game and cheer together.
"Brothers!" Cliff let out a hearty laugh. After finally getting the flag sorted out, he eagerly started shouting to hype up the crowd. "Alright, who's ready? All 49ers, unite! Let's cheer on Bambi and march on to our fourth straight win! Who's with me?"
"Me! Me!" Jeff, Danny, and the others all shot their right hands into the air, but the rest of the bar remained silent. Cliff wasn't discouraged. He threw his hands out wide and said with theatrical disbelief, "Come on, we're all fans here! This is no way to watch football. There's zero energy in here! Show some passion! We've got momentum on our side, shouldn't we rally together and keep this train rolling?"
Seeing the bar was still unresponsive, Cliff put on an exaggerated expression. "Whoops, awkward. Did we walk into a Philadelphia Eagles fan bar by mistake?"
"Watch your mouth, kid. We're all 49ers here!"
"Stop showboating! We've spent our entire lives supporting this team! Something a kid like you wouldn't understand."
...
Cliff's words caused quite a stir, and several people started to argue back. Cliff just nodded with a satisfied grin. "See? That's more like it. Now it's finally starting to feel like a 49ers bar! Come on, let's get ready. The game's about to start!"
The bar finally started to come to life, its vitality restored. It wasn't exactly roaring with passion, but at least the silence was broken. Cliff, Chris, and the others made their way to the bar, ordered beers, and got ready for the game to begin.
On the other side of the continent, the players of both teams were ready to take the field.