Clark immediately raised his hands high, signaling a touchdown. His face was filled with eagerness and anticipation as he cast a glance toward the referee. His heart pounded heavily, as if it was about to burst out of his chest like a firework. He used all his strength to suppress the surge of excitement, but his knees twitched uncontrollably, as if they were springs ready to leap.
One second felt like an eternity.
Finally, when the referee mirrored Clark's motion by raising his arms to confirm the call, Clark's reason was swallowed up in an instant.
Clark jumped high into the air, screaming with pure joy, then turned to his teammates, shouting the same words over and over again, completely losing himself in the moment.
Again and again, one after another.
It wasn't just Clark. The entire Crimson Tide squad had lost their minds. Even Jacobs joined in, with everyone raising their arms, mimicking the touchdown signal. They erupted in joy, yelling and jumping in celebration. The emotions they had suppressed were finally unleashed like a volcanic eruption.
With the game in the second half and the third quarter already halfway through, the Crimson Tide had finally found their rhythm. After a relentless three-minute-and-forty-seven-second drive, they pushed into the opposing end zone, breaking the deadlock and becoming the first to score in this heated rivalry match, seizing the advantage on the road.
It had been incredibly tough.
In this intense showdown between two top-tier defenses, both teams had pushed their abilities and talents to the limit, making the game a fierce stalemate.
After all the twists and turns, it was Lance—the biggest revelation and brightest star of the Crimson Tide's offense this season—who finally broke the balance.
With an unmatched display, he silenced the entire Tiger Stadium.
Hurts was the first to sprint toward the end zone, shoving Thompson aside to pull Lance out from under the pile, wrapping him in a fierce hug, yelling excitedly.
"Touchdown. Touchdown! It's a touchdown!"
It wasn't just Hurts—every offensive player followed suit. After bottling up their emotions for the entire first half, they finally let loose, roaring at the top of their lungs.
Huff, huff, huff, huff.
Lance was gasping for air, each breath deep and labored. That drive had drained him of so much energy, leaving him feeling utterly spent, both physically and mentally. Yet, the satisfaction of the effort coursed through his veins, igniting every cell in his body with pure adrenaline, making his entire being buzz with euphoria.
Lance stood still. He didn't scream, didn't roar. Instead, he quietly gazed at the members of LSU's defense—
Riley. Beckwith. Adams.
His gaze swept over them like a gentle breeze. All of them were panting heavily, drenched in sweat, but Lance's calm stare completely smothered their momentum, leaving unspoken words crashing and colliding in their throats.
Finally, Lance ignored them, shifting his attention to the rest of Tiger Stadium, looking around at the sea of purple.
He cupped his right hand around his ear, as if waiting for something.
Patiently, he waited.
The home crowd slowly realized Lance's provocation—was he taunting them for going silent?
Boos erupted from the stands, quickly spreading throughout the stadium.
But Lance wasn't satisfied. He turned in a slow circle, gesturing for more boos, more noise.
For an away team, such curses, anger, and hostility were the best rewards—they signified that they were on the right track.
And besides, LSU was their fiercest rival.
Lance kept waiting, waiting for the storm to grow stronger and wilder.
Finally, Tiger Stadium granted his wish.
The chant rose in unison, growing louder and louder, until the entire stadium seemed to tremble under the sheer force of the noise.
Within moments, the soundwaves swallowed the field, and Tiger Stadium came back to life, more vibrant and fierce than ever.
Lance's lips curled into a satisfied smile as he jogged toward the sideline, where his teammates were waiting.
Lined up, right hands raised.
Lance jogged down the line, high-fiving his teammates in celebration, until he reached the defensive unit, where Allen and the others were itching to get on the field.
Next up, the special teams would kick the extra point, followed by the kickoff, and then it would be the defense's turn. But it was clear that they couldn't wait any longer.
Allen bumped shoulders with Lance and gave him a hearty slap on the back.
"Great job. You did your part, and we'll do ours. Trust me, I won't let them have their way. Let those scouts see what we're really made of. They'll realize how far off they were."
What was he talking about?
Running back Leonard Fournette.
Before Lance's meteoric rise, there were several running backs who had garnered significant attention this season, including Christian McCaffrey, who finished second to Derrick Henry in last year's Heisman Trophy voting. But the biggest name was LSU's Fournette.
Last season, Fournette had a dominant performance, rushing for 1,953 yards, but he was overshadowed by the brilliance of Henry and McCaffrey.
Coming into this season, Fournette was widely considered the strongest contender for the Heisman Trophy, but injuries plagued him from the preseason onwards. He suffered three injuries in just two months, and his playing time became sporadic. As a result, he fell out of the Heisman conversation entirely.
However, despite the injuries, Fournette's physical prowess remained undeniable. Even after suffering multiple injuries, he was able to recover quickly and consistently put up strong performances. While the injuries cast a shadow over his draft stock, they also highlighted his impressive physical resilience.
Currently, even though the Crimson Tide were riding high and Lance was fourth on the Heisman prediction list, he hadn't moved up further. The primary reason was that experts still believed Fournette was the better running back and had the brighter NFL future.
Clearly, Allen didn't agree.
In the first half, Fournette had also struggled against the Crimson Tide's fierce defense, failing to make any significant impact.
Now that Lance had broken through, it was sure to light a fire under Fournette. After all, both players were running backs, and this was their first direct showdown. But Allen was ready for it.
That was the meaning behind Allen's words—Lance had done his part, and now it was the defense's turn.
After the Crimson Tide's special teams successfully kicked the extra point, the defense took the field once again.
Tiger Stadium erupted with renewed energy, cheering on their offense. However, Saban, the old fox, had prepared thoroughly.
Unlike LSU's defense, which focused on shutting down the run and stifling Lance, the Crimson Tide's defense showcased their dominance in the short passing game.
Fournette took the ball and ran.
But before he could get going, Allen had already shed his blocker and came charging down like a tiger, tackling Fournette with precision and ferocity.
Fournette hit the ground like a sack of sand.
Allen stood tall, cutting off any hope with a clear message: This way is closed.
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