"I'm shipping up to Boston, whoa!"
"I'm shipping up to Boston, whoa!"
The rolling heat surged forward like a tidal wave. The air felt as if it might combust from the collective singing of the crowd, their voices united, releasing an overwhelming energy that reverberated through the world.
On September 7, 2017, the new NFL season officially kicked off.
Tonight, there was only one game: the season opener, with the defending champions, the New England Patriots, hosting the Kansas City Chiefs.
Gillette Stadium, located in Foxborough, Massachusetts, is one of the NFL's most fearsome home fields. Each November, the cold winds, snowstorms, and freezing temperatures blanket Foxborough in white, turning the open-air stadium into a nightmare for visiting teams.
Though it was still early September—late summer transitioning into fall—the expansive skies and romantic autumn leaves gave the venue a gentler appearance. Yet, the Patriots' fans ensured the infamous "devil's home" reputation remained intact, greeting their guests with the full force of their hostility.
Even before the game began, the tension was palpable.
There's no denying that the New England Patriots are the most successful and dominant team of the 21st century. The pairing of head coach Bill Belichick and quarterback Tom Brady established a dynasty. From zero championships before the year 2000, they amassed five Super Bowl titles, including last season's legendary comeback victory, cementing their status as the NFL's premier team of the new millennium.
And now, they were still at the top of their game.
This season, the Patriots were aiming to become the first team in a decade to win back-to-back Super Bowls. The last team to accomplish this feat? The Patriots themselves, in the 2003 and 2004 seasons. Since then, no team had managed to repeat the achievement.
Foxborough was ready.
The game kicked off with fans passionately belting out the unofficial team anthem, "I'm Shipping Up to Boston", their voices reverberating with thunderous force, sending a clear signal: The title is ours.
The Patriots and the Chiefs weren't traditional rivals. The Chiefs played in the AFC West, while the Patriots hailed from the AFC East. They faced each other only once every three years, and there was little bad blood between them.
However, there was some history.
In 2014, the Chiefs humiliated the Patriots with a 41–14 blowout. For the Patriots, it was just another regular-season game, an unremarkable loss that didn't affect their playoff standing. But for the Chiefs, it was unforgettable.
The following year, in the 2015 playoffs, the Chiefs ended a decades-long playoff win drought by defeating the Houston Texans. But in the next round, they narrowly lost to the Patriots, 20–27, once again falling short of breaking their postseason curse.
Tonight, the Chiefs needed a victory—not only to start the new season strong but also to exact revenge for that crushing playoff defeat.
Patriots fans, however, had other ideas.
As Lance emerged onto the field, fans along the tunnel walls erupted, pounding against the metal surfaces with a deafening cacophony. The pounding intensified, growing into a storm of sound that shook the entire stadium.
"Rookie, your legs shaking yet?"
"Haha! Don't be scared. We'll take good care of you!"
"Let's show you what real football looks like."
"You little shrimp, don't hide behind the fat guys. Get out here and prove yourself!"
The jeers were harsh, the faces twisted and menacing, exuding raw hostility.
Gillette Stadium holds just 65,000 fans—barely a mid-sized arena compared to Bryant-Denny Stadium's massive capacity. Yet the professional atmosphere, with its hardened aggression and relentless fervor, was on another level. Even seasoned players like Travis Kelce could feel the intensity hammering at their eardrums.
This year, the animosity was especially intense.
It was all Roger Goodell's fault.
The offseason spectacle surrounding Lance had incensed Patriots fans. To them, this rookie had no right to challenge the reigning kings of the NFL. How dare he?
Now, all their fury was directed squarely at Lance.
Kelce, feeling uneasy, scanned the crowd for Lance. What he saw left him speechless—Lance was staring at the fans, a curious smile on his face, studying them as if he were examining an exhibit in a museum.
"Lance," Kelce called out, puzzled. "What are you doing?"
Lance turned to him with a grin. "Smelling the air."
Kelce's jaw dropped. "You're insane."
Lance burst into laughter, clapping Kelce on the shoulder before jogging onto the field.
This was it—the professional stage.
A little. Lance admitted as much. The NFL was a step above the NCAA, and the stakes were higher now.
But more than anything, he was exhilarated. The anticipation buzzed in his veins, electrifying his entire body.
No, not at all. Why should he be afraid? If anything, he was thrilled.
In football, the greatest compliment a visiting player could receive was the boos, jeers, and curses from opposing fans. It meant they took you seriously.
And now, before he'd even played a single down, Lance was getting the full treatment. He couldn't be happier.
The taunts aimed at Lance vanished in an instant.
In their place, a deafening cheer erupted, building to a crescendo that shook the stadium.
Tom Brady had arrived.
The league's reigning king, stepping onto his home turf, received a hero's welcome. Fans leapt to their feet, their cheers reaching a fever pitch, waving a sea of blue and ivory jerseys.
Brady jogged onto the field with his trademark composure, raising a hand in acknowledgment, as if this were just another day in his backyard.
The stadium roared, drowning out the visitors.
Even in the commentary booths, the analysts felt their pulses quicken. This was it—the start of a new season, and the chance to witness history in the making.
From the VIP suite, Roger Goodell looked down at the scene.
The storm had been carefully orchestrated. Now, it was time to let football take over. Whether the rookie toppled the GOAT or the GOAT crushed the rookie, one thing was certain: the NFL had already won.
For 20 advance chapters: .com/michaeltranslates