Chapter 276 274: Arrogance and Complacency
A dead silence had fallen over Joe's Bar, so quiet that not even a ripple of sound could be heard. It seemed that even the cursing had completely disappeared.
When the team they so loyally supported performed well, the fans would erupt in thunderous cheers and all sorts of celebrations. When they played poorly, however, the fans would mercilessly let loose a torrent of profanity. These die-hard fans were always the most impassioned and emotional. It was precisely because their love ran so deep that their reactions were so fervent—a spectacular display that is always the most dazzling sight in competitive sports.
But now, the entire bar was silent. Only Chris and his group were a whirlwind of excitement, agitation, anger, and passion.
The fans in the bar had very mixed feelings. It wasn't that they were against Lu Ke; they just didn't support him—
Perhaps it was because they had been disappointed for too long, and they feared that if they let their hopes build up again, the fall would be even harder. This constant anxiety, this fear of getting their hopes up only to be crushed, left them on edge. Or perhaps, deep down, they simply couldn't bring themselves to trust an undrafted rookie, pinning more of their hopes on Alex Smith and Colin Kaepernick instead.
Perhaps it was because this rookie quarterback had seemingly come out of nowhere, lacking any real connection or resonance with the fans. He wasn't like other rookies, who fans had been dissecting and discussing for nearly half a year since the Rookie Training Camp—poring over their college careers, their stats, and their scouting reports. But for this particular rookie, there was none of that.
The reasons were many and varied. Even the fans themselves were a bundle of mixed emotions, unable to articulate precisely how they felt. As a result, they couldn't even vent their anger, left to sit in stunned, bewildered silence. It was as if... as if they were strangers to their own team.
No one could refute Chris Wilson's outburst.
Across the entire bar, only Chris and his group of friends had shot to their feet, slamming the table. Frustrated and furious, they roared at the television, unleashing their anger. They cursed as they spouted their opinions, utterly disgusted with the Offense Line's performance. They looked like they wanted to roll up their sleeves and slap some sense into the players.
Their impassioned shouts echoed through the bar. The other fans, looking sheepish, averted their gazes, completely at a loss.
Jonathan Baldwin stared blankly at the TV screen, his gaze distant. As a die-hard fan, every victory for the San Francisco 49ers was enough to send him into a frenzy of joy. He'd want to rush into the streets, screaming and cheering, passionately hugging every stranger in sight to share his elation. But...
But Jonathan had been suppressing his emotions. The three-game winning streak felt too good to be true, and he feared that if he so much as shouted his joy aloud, the dream bubble would burst, plunging him back into reality. As long as he kept silent, he thought, this wonderful dream could last a little longer, just a little longer.
Now, Jonathan couldn't help but start to question himself. 'Was I wrong?'
'Even if this is a dream, it will end when the sun rises. But before it does, shouldn't I be enjoying it? Reveling in it? Shouldn't I be a part of it?' Just as Chris had said, this was their team, and that undrafted rookie was single-handedly carrying them on his shoulders.
...
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" The locker room echoed with Michael Crabtree's endless, furious cursing.
He wasn't fighting with his teammates, though. He was just taking his anger out on himself, kicking his locker again and again with an irritating CLANG. And he wasn't the only one. Not far away, outside linebacker Patrick Willis stood in a corner, kicking the wall and muttering his own string of curses, each one more vicious and vile than the last.
"SHIT! CAN'T YOU GUYS BE A LITTLE QUIETER?" inside linebacker Navorro Bowman finally snapped, cursing viciously. "Don't act like a bunch of irrational kids. We're only down by one touchdown. We can catch up in the second half. What's the point of throwing a tantrum at yourselves in here?"
"Catch up? And who's gonna do that? You?" Parris Harrisson interjected through gritted teeth. His eyes flickered toward Lu Ke as he added viciously, "With a first half like that, we should just expect a total collapse in the second."
He didn't say it outright, but the pointed insinuation was as good as an open declaration. Anyone could see that Parris was still sticking up for Alex Smith and had issues with Lu Ke starting. After all, all three backup quarterbacks had traveled with the team to Philadelphia and were in the locker room at that very moment.
The moment Parris finished speaking, all eyes shot toward Alex. But Alex said nothing, showed no reaction, as if he hadn't noticed Parris's insinuation at all.
"What did you say? As for the Defense Team, what the hell were you guys doing in the first half?" Logan Newman couldn't take it anymore. He shot to his feet, confronting him loudly. "What do you know besides how to shift the blame?"
Just as the locker room atmosphere grew clamorous once more, on the verge of another crisis, a voice boomed out like a sudden clap of thunder. "Stop! Goddamn it, all of you, stop!" Every head in the room snapped toward the source of the sound.
It was Lu Ke.
Until then, Lu Ke had been sitting with a towel draped over his head, trying to calm down and analyze the first half.
'In week two of the regular season, they had faced the same dilemma at home against the Dallas Cowboys but managed to pull off a second-half comeback. Today, the Philadelphia Eagles weren't even playing as well as the Cowboys had, so why did a turnaround feel so hopeless?'
He replayed the first half over and over in his mind but couldn't find a tactical solution. 'It wasn't that the Philadelphia Eagles' Defense Team was playing exceptionally well; it was that the San Francisco 49ers' Offense was playing exceptionally poorly. So, what was the root cause? Was it really just because it was an away game?'
'True, some teams just fell apart on the road, but that wasn't the whole story.'
The incessant arguing finally broke through Lu Ke's concentration, but it also sparked an idea. He ripped the towel from his head and shouted. He'd said "stop," not "shut up." The choice of words was deliberate—milder, more neutral. His goal wasn't to blame his teammates, but to end the bickering.
Today, for the first time, Lu Ke truly shouldered the responsibilities of a starting quarterback. No hesitation, no fear.
"Take a look at yourselves! If you can't see it, go to the bathroom and take a piss so you can see your own reflection!" Lu Ke strode to the center of the locker room, standing unflinchingly under the collective gaze of his teammates. "Every single one of you is on edge! The Offense, and the Defense Team too. Have you ever stopped to think that our strategy is sound, that we're stronger than our opponents, that we have the advantage on the field, yet we're still losing?"
"If you're trying to play life coach, then fuck off—" Parris cut Lu Ke off rudely, showing no respect.
But Lu Ke shot back with even more force, cutting him down flatly, "You shut up! Either focus on the field, or keep your mouth shut off of it!"
The sharp glare and vicious tone stunned Parris into silence. His words caught in his throat. In the past three weeks, they had never seen this side of Lu Ke. The harsh words and powerful presence had actually managed to intimidate Parris.
"Every single one of us took it for granted that this game was in the bag, right? We're on a three-game winning streak, we've been outstanding on both offense and defense, we're unstoppable, we're powerful as hell! But goddammit, even if all that is true, victory doesn't just hand itself to you! We have to go out there and fight for it! Otherwise, the only thing waiting for us is a loss!"
'Arrogance. Underestimation of the enemy.'
Lu Ke had identified the crux of the problem. Victory always builds confidence, but for a team this young, a team that still lacked chemistry, and most importantly, a team that lacked a true leader, confidence could easily curdle into arrogance and complacency. They had started to think that victory was a given.
Even though the coach had officially named Lu Ke the starter this week, the team still hadn't managed to rally around him. They were still running on the fumes of the youthful vigor and fighting spirit from the first game of the regular season—blindly confident, blindly charging ahead. But when it came to critical moments, they had no idea what they were doing. Small breakdowns in the details led to them dropping the ball and making repeated mistakes.
It wasn't just the Offense and the Defense Team; in truth, Lu Ke himself had grown complacent. He had started to believe that after three straight weeks of successful upgrades, he had been completely transformed. But he had forgotten that even if all his stats were maxed out, a game still had to be won one step at a time. Victory isn't just handed to you; it has to be earned.
Otherwise, shouldn't athletes at their peak just be handed the championship? Should other teams not even bother competing and just forfeit the title? Victory is never a handout. It's something you earn, and that's true even for a perfect, all-around athlete with maxed-out stats.
"Yes, we're on a three-game winning streak, but you should know better than anyone that in the 2007 season, the New England Patriots had a perfect regular season. Sixteen games, sixteen wins. Almost everyone thought they were invincible. But what happened? They lost the Super Bowl! They lost to the New York Giants, led by Eli Manning!"
"So you all had better swallow your pride and arrogance! Right now, just outside this locker room, the Philadelphia Eagles are waiting for their victory! Seventy thousand fans in that stadium are waiting for their celebration! And the fact is, they're on their way to getting it. But, I refuse to accept that!"
"I want a different outcome. So I'm going to calm down, walk onto that field, and play every single down, one solid play at a time. And then I'm going to tell the Philadelphia Eagles, and every other team in this Alliance, that they want the win? Fine! They can have it over my dead body! Because I will not give up, and I sure as hell will not admit defeat!"
Lu Ke's voice thundered through the locker room. Every eye, every single eye, was fixed on him. Then they watched as Lu Ke raised his right hand high, clenched it into a fist. "I'm about to walk out on that field and seize this victory. Who's with me?"