Dominate the Super Bowl

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Bang!

A collision, a surge.

Li Wei could feel a force from behind, like a shockwave from "Dragon Ball," slamming directly in front of him, propelling his body out of control forward.

Bumps, chaos.

Entirely on instinct, his body's reflexes adjusted amidst the ferocious turmoil, taking consecutive short steps to stabilize and continue rushing forward to dissipate the tail force of the collision, teetering and staggering as he barely maintained his balance, like walking on a high-wire in a gale, moving forward on inertia.

Push off the ground.

Push off the ground!

Strength, sinking from the core, traveling down from the thighs to the calves before crashing into the ground, repeatedly pushing off like pedaling a bicycle, he surged forth.

One step, two steps, three, four, five steps.

Just as he seemed about to fall forward, just as he seemed about to tumble down, he clenched his teeth in the precarious predicament, tensing his body and maintaining his balance.

Footsteps, from unsteady to solid, and then, entering the acceleration phase.

Panting.

Lungs, burning, every breath like molten lava.

But.

He couldn't relax, couldn't feel relieved, the ambush of tight spots had only just begun to open a gap, and he was still surrounded on three sides.

In 1999, there was such a movie, "Bachelor."

In the movie, the male lead inherited a hundred million US Dollars on the condition that he married before his thirtieth birthday, which was only twenty-four hours away, so he issued a notice searching for a bride.

Then, the movie depicted a legendary scene where, as the male lead walked down the street, brides in wedding gowns emerged continuously from different corners, eventually forming a wave that surrounded him from all sides and chased him through the streets.

The movie, not so great.

But that scene became a classic.

The same was happening now.

Li Wei was that bachelor, and the burly men on the field were the "brides" ready to capture and take down Li Wei—

Coming at him like a tide.

Li Wei, with faltering steps, stumbled past the forty-yard line, then wobbled toward the fifty-yard line, as the overwhelming pressure surged toward him.

Just as Li Wei was about to break free, Jackson's figure appeared right in front of him.

Jackson was very calm and decisive. He knew of Li Wei's abilities and his cool-headedness, so he had to act first and decisively.

A rush, a dive.

Jackson charged forward, but as he was about to close in, he saw Li Wei shifting directions towards the opposite side.

He guessed it!

How could Jackson not be prepared? If he got fooled by the same move from Li Wei time after time, he would have no face left to continue as a starter safety for the Crimson Tide Storm.

In the midst of rushing forward, with a misstep, Jackson managed to turn before losing his balance and was ready to predict Li Wei's change of direction.

A tackle!

Jackson, without hesitation, spread his arms to embrace Li Wei. He could already feel the warmth of Li Wei's skin when, just before his arms closed in, he felt a spin.

Spin.

Spin again.

In a flash, Li Wei was rotating counter-clockwise within Jackson's grasp, a hundred and eighty degrees, creating space; then another hundred and eighty degrees, breaking free.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Jackson hadn't even fully grasped Li Wei before he was flung off by Li Wei's triple change of direction.

Crash.

Clash.

Crunch.

Li Wei's speed had not fully picked up when he collided again with Jackson, whose body weight fully became a burden, pushing Li Wei's center of gravity again, and he looked like he was about to hit the ground.

Knees buckled.

Damn!

So close, just a bit more, and Li Wei staggered in a crouch—

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The entire stadium, silent as death.

Totally stunned, whether they knew Li Wei or not, regardless of whether their child or neighbor was on which team, at this moment, no one was an exception.

After three quarters of the game, everyone had already memorized Number 23 from the White Team, undoubtedly the most dazzling player of today's match; but just when people thought that Number 23's performance could not get any more spectacular, the fourth quarter brought yet another climax.

Tyree Clark, the father of fifth substitute Ronnie Clark, even though his son was also a running back and the direct competitor to Number 23, didn't care at that moment, but simply clenched his fists silently, cheering for Number 23.

Originally, the ground advance from the middle route was just a short-yardage run, but unexpectedly, after acquiring the first down, there was more to come.

In a flash, Number 23 had already advanced twelve yards.

Come on!

Tyree prayed silently.

Then, in his field of vision, he could see Number 23's figure unbelievably using the strength of his waist and abdomen to squat and rise quickly amidst stumbles, making full use of inertia, his body shooting forward like an arrow off the string.

Behind him, a wave of red was rapidly approaching, engulfing the white silhouette in a vast tide.

But Tyree had no time to care; he slowly, slowly stood up, raising his arms and bellowing.

"Roar (rolling)!"

The supporting song for the Crimson Tide Storm's team sang in the chorus, "Tidal wave, roar (roll-tide)."

At this moment, they were making their voices heard.

"Roar!"

The fifty-yard line, past midfield, the forty-yard line of the opposite half was within reach.

"Roar!"

Forty-yard line.

The rolling Crimson Tide surged powerfully, but the streak of white was like golden sunlight atop the wave, sprinting all the way.

"Roar!"

Thirty-yard line.

Not just Tyree, but the entire Bryant Denny Stadium had fallen into a frenzy, one by one standing up, with no distinction between starters and substitutes; at this moment, they were all part of the Crimson Tide Storm, following the trail of Number 23, chasing the sunlight upon the wave.

"Roar!"

Twenty-yard line.

The whole field, in madness, wave after wave, each higher than the last.

Although they didn't know the name of Number 23, it didn't stop them from becoming one entity, the entire stadium's wave of red passion roared for him, united in a mighty chorus, the University of Alabama's legendary team once again unleashing a soul-deep tidal roar.

"Roar!"

Ten-yard line.

Number 23 finally found his pace, running faster and faster, leaving the rolling tide far behind, single-handedly cutting across the field, with the entire sky-filled Crimson Tide Storm serving merely as a backdrop, the collective will converging into an explosive force.

Then.

A piercing arrow to the heart.

End zone, touchdown.

Roar!

Madness, complete and utter madness.

Li Wei, fiercely slamming the football to the ground, releasing his passion anew, raising his right fist high, clenched and released, no longer needing to hold back.

"Ah!"

Touchdown, secured.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!"

An accident, a breakthrough, but Li Wei did not panic, did not give up, and ultimately turned the inadvertent mismatch between the offensive group and the defensive group into his own opportunity.

Boom!

Tyree had completely lost his mind, fists raised high, jumping, cheering, roaring, rejoicing for the white figure on the field.

"Roar! Roar! Roar!"

The entire field, subdued—

Was there anyone who could be an exception, or who could be an exception?

This is the most passionate and exhilarating moment in competitive sports, not because of winning or losing, but because of the struggle, the fight, the will to never give up!