Chapter 295 293: First Loss
Forty-nine seconds ago, Lu Ke successfully connected with Ted Ginn Jr., who scored a Touchdown in a triumphant, eagle-spread pose to take the lead. They had overcome a game-long deficit, and after David Akens kicked the extra point, the score was "27:28." The San Francisco 49ers had their first lead of the game, just one step away from their fourth consecutive victory.
Forty-nine seconds later, Michael Vick strung together several successful plays, especially a crucial fourth-and-six conversion, leading the Philadelphia Eagles past midfield. The rookie kicker then nailed a career-high fifty-one-yard field goal, snatching the lead back. The final score, "30:28," was a game-winning comeback that secured the Eagles' second victory of the season.
The difference between heaven and hell was merely forty-nine seconds. The final moments of the regular season Week 4 matchup between the San Francisco 49ers and the Philadelphia Eagles were so heart-stopping and tense it was almost enough to trigger a heart attack, ultimately concluding with a victory for the Eagles.
Sitting in the broadcast booth, Kirk and Teddy were still trying to catch their breath. They marveled at the Eagles' comeback ability, how they tenaciously wrested the victory from the 49ers. They were amazed that rookie kicker Alex Henry had become the game-winning hero, allowing the Eagles to rise from the ashes after the departure of David Akens. But after the initial astonishment, the full impact of the moment began to set in.
"Wow. All I can say is, you never know the outcome until the game is well and truly over," Teddy said, the first to compose himself as he let out a long breath. "In the final two minutes, both offenses showcased their formidable power. Their ability to deliver a decisive blow when backed into a corner was stunning. It's a shame that the young Lu Ke lost, while the veteran Vick walked away with the win. But I don't see this as a failure for the 49ers."
"That's right. That's the beauty of competitive sports. As long as there's time on the clock, anything is possible," Kirk added, taking a deep breath and adopting a more professional tone. "The Philadelphia Eagles won the game today, but the San Francisco 49ers have no reason to be down. They can hold their heads high as they leave Lincoln Financial Field. They put on an absolutely spectacular show and fought until the very end."
"Looking at the game as a whole..."
Just as Kirk and Teddy said, the game was over, but its impact was just beginning to ripple outward. Once the two commentators calmed down, they started to review the game and offer their final analysis. On the turf of Lincoln Financial Field, however, the raw, heightened emotions weren't fading away so easily.
His heart leaped, rising high until it was lodged in his throat. Lu Ke watched, powerless, as the football struck the upright. The muffled DOINK exploded in his ears like a clap of thunder, but before any joy could erupt, he saw the ball bounce through the goalposts. And then his heart plummeted, crashing hard against the ground.
They lost.
'I knew a loss would come sooner or later. In competitive sports, no team is invincible; even the strongest have their day of defeat. But today's loss was so sudden, so unexpected. Victory was right there in my grasp, and then it just slipped through my fingers, leaving nothing but a void.'
The first loss of his professional career had come a little later than he'd imagined, yet also a little sooner. And just as he'd expected, the bitter taste of defeat filled his mouth—even more bitter than he could have ever imagined.
This was Lu Ke's first game after being confirmed as the San Francisco 49ers' starting quarterback, and it had ended in a loss. His upward momentum came to a screeching halt, a rude awakening. It was a sharp, cold reminder that to become a Rugby Superstar, he had a lot more to learn than just skills. Besides, even in terms of pure skill, he still had many shortcomings.
'The starting spot is an honor, but it's not the final destination.'
He let out a long breath, but the bitter taste was impossible to shake. For however sweet victory was, defeat was exponentially more bitter. 'I'll probably have to carry this feeling with me for the next few days.'
'But, from another perspective, this is a good thing. It hurts because I care. If a team gets used to losing, grows accustomed to it, then victory might never come. Only by searing the taste of this defeat into my memory can I rally myself and fight with everything I have for the next win.'
Taking a deep breath, Lu Ke jogged to the center of the field. There he saw a beaming, elated Michael Vick standing among his Philadelphia Eagles teammates, the atmosphere electric with celebration.
Lu Ke approached him and shook his hand politely. "Good game."
'On that final drive, Vick had truly shown everyone the formidable offensive power of a mobile quarterback. Compared to the new generation of mobile quarterbacks, Vick's passing accuracy has always been underestimated. In clutch moments, he has the ability to deliver a lethal deep ball, a threat that strikes fear into any team. Vick's performance today was truly admirable.'
Vick returned the polite handshake. "Good luck." With no further pleasantries, he gave a nod, turned, and walked away. He then raised both hands high, clapping to thank the fans for their support as Lincoln Financial Field erupted into a sea of cheers, celebrating their second regular-season victory of the year.
When Lu Ke turned around, he saw his teammates. They were scattered across the field, all of them looking utterly dejected. Some had collapsed to the ground, mentally and physically exhausted. Others stood rooted to the spot, completely lost. And some were arguing, their anger boiling over—
Parris Haralson and Patrick Willis were in a heated dispute. One was a leader among the veterans, the other was the on-field captain of the Defense Team. Both were influential figures in the locker room who normally got along, but today, their tempers flared as they started shoving each other.
Lu Ke let out a heavy sigh. 'If I could, I wouldn't get involved. I have no right to. I'm just a rookie, I have no standing to speak up on this team, let alone when two influential leaders are fighting. But after a loss like this, every single one of us is hurting. The last thing we need is to start blaming each other and have the team fall apart—'
'And then what? Follow up three straight wins by losing the next thirteen games to end the season?'
Lu Ke refused to accept that possibility. He started walking toward them, his pace quickening until he broke into a full jog, rushing to intervene.
"...If you hadn't missed that tackle, we wouldn't have even been in this position!"
"Fuck! So all the blame is on me now? What about the shitty defense before that? Why don't you say something about that?"
"Stop it!" Lu Ke squeezed between them, pushing Patrick Willis away before shoving Parris back with his body. "Are you two insane? Your heads overheating? Cool it! Both of you, cool it now!" But the two men didn't seem to even see Lu Ke, still pointing at each other and screaming curses.
Now Lu Ke was furious. He shoved Willis hard in the chest. "Cool it!" Then he whipped around and roared at Parris, "Everyone just fucking calm down! We lose one game and you start pointing fingers? Is that the example you want to set? Fuck!" The sudden, forceful outburst stunned both Parris and Willis into a temporary silence. Lu Ke, panting for breath, cursed again. "Fuck!"
"Nobody wants to lose! Nobody! Losing a game isn't one person's fault, it's the whole team's fault! Instead of blaming each other out here, shut your mouths, get back to the locker room, break down what happened, and get ready for the next game! You don't like losing, and you don't like losing, and for God's sake, I don't like losing either!"
He bellowed, staring down Willis and then Parris in turn.
Neither man responded. Lu Ke threw his hands open. "Good. Looks like we're on the same page! To hell with this loss! Remember this anger, remember this humiliation, remember this bitter taste, and turn it into fuel. The season has just started. There are twelve more wins out there waiting for us to take! I'm ready. Now I'm waiting on you!"
With that, Lu Ke didn't pay them any more mind. He strode away, leaving the two leaders to cool off.
As he scanned the field, Lu Ke saw Colin Jones sitting on the grass.
He was another rookie. During Week 1 of the regular season against the Seattle Seahawks, he had disrupted a punt, forcing a turnover that laid the groundwork for the team's decisive victory. And just now, during the final drive, Jones had rotated in at cornerback and, along with two other teammates, played incredibly tough defense on those final three downs.
But now, Jones was sobbing uncontrollably, his face streaked with tears. He stared blankly out at the field, his eyes unfocused, a truly heartbreaking sight.
Lu Ke found himself walking over. He squatted down and patted Jones's shoulder, reassuring him, "Colin, it's okay. It's okay. It's just one game. Just one loss."
"I should've been tougher. I should've been quicker," Jones repeated over and over. On third down, they had tackled Riley Cooper, but still allowed him to gain one yard. Now, Jones was agonizing over giving up that single yard. 'If the field goal had been from fifty-two yards instead of fifty-one, would victory have slipped away?'
Lu Ke felt a sting in his own nose. "Colin, you played an outstanding game."
"Are you serious?" Jones's unfocused eyes slowly sharpened, and he looked up at Lu Ke, his expression full of grief.
Lu Ke nodded firmly. "This isn't your fault. We just need to remember this feeling, use it to train even harder, and make sure we hold on tight to victory next time. What do you say?"
Jones nodded and patted Lu Ke on the shoulder. He roughly wiped the tears from his cheeks, and Lu Ke took his right hand, helping him to his feet.
Glancing around, Lu Ke took in his teammates. Crabtree was sprawled out on the turf. Ginn stood at the edge of the End Zone, hands on his hips, his face a mask of disappointment. Chilo Rachal was on the sideline, stewing in his own anger. Marcus Lynch and Logan Newman stared blankly at the wildly celebrating fans in the stands.
Time itself seemed to have frozen in that moment.