Chapter 420: April 19th, ask and it shall be given.
Chapter 420: April 19th, ask and it shall be given.
Buck, the epitome of calm.
Having endured the test of a game-deciding kick in the previous playoff, he had finally realized that he cherished those moments—the tension at its peak, the taste of blood in his mouth, the heart nearly bursting.
The more dire the situation, the more intense the nerves, the more exhilarating he felt, as if he could hear the sound of adrenaline burning.
Unlike the harsh weather at Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, the conditions at Perpetual Bank Center could truly be called calm and bright, with almost no impact from the wind direction.
This was a good thing.
The entire stadium roared, but Buck remained unaffected, raising his hand to signal, his eyes fixed on the football thrown by the center, using the beating of his heart to feel the rhythm.
A running start, the kick, the release of power.
The noise in the stadium climbed to new heights, erupting like a volcano, only to catch in the throat as the football reached its pinnacle and began its descent—
The air, briefly stagnated.
The football fluttered uncertainly, the downward arc falling slightly short of expectations—not only skewed to the left but also too low, losing speed quickly, seeming unable to carry the football to the end zone’s baseline.
57 yards, was it still too audacious?
Where his gaze focused, the air began to burn, and just as the football seemed about to bury itself under the goalpost, the cheers in Perpetual Bank Center were already gearing up to burst forth; yet, the football stubbornly flicked forward, and before the pupils could capture its trajectory, the sound had already exploded ahead.
The goalpost vibrated with a buzz, and the trajectory of that reddish-brown luminescence immediately became clear in view.
Striking the left goalpost, it changed course, sailing light over the crossbar and into the spectator stands behind.
Cheers and screams stuck in the throat transformed into sighs, shoulders, and heads drooped heavily, as if even the Goddess of Fortune didn’t side with the home team.
Suddenly, Buck raised his hands high, turning to look in the direction of his teammates by the field, his eyes catching sight of the figures enthusiastically waving their arms—a sight that made Buck’s smile blossom:
Delivered as expected.
They hoped for a field goal, so Buck gave them a field goal; they hoped to increase the lead, so Buck expanded the advantage.
His success rate for the 2017 season remained at 100%.
Li Wei was the first to start cheering, entering party mode on the opponents’ home turf, giving the home team a knock on the head just as the Jacksonville Jaguars’ defensive group began to find some form again.
The entire Perpetual Bank Center seemed subdued, fruitlessly searching for positives but ending in failure, disoriented and unable to rally.
Perhaps, the only silver lining was that the first half had finally come to an end.
All points were scored in the second quarter, with the Kansas City Chiefs leveraging a burst of energy within three minutes to overturn the situation and firmly grasp the initiative for victory.
Clearly, during the halftime break, both teams had their work cut out for them: the leader must not become complacent, and the laggard must not surrender—
Whether it’s last year’s Super Bowl showdown or the previous round’s divisional playoff, one game after another proved the essence of competitive sports:
As long as the game isn’t over, anything is possible.
The Jacksonville Jaguars locker room was slightly chaotic, with restless emotions and muddled thoughts.
Although no one was speaking loudly, the agitation was still palpable as a mix of complex feelings interwove in glances exchanged through the air.
Clearly, a first half was not part of their pre-game plans.
After the divisional playoffs, the media had almost unanimously touted the Jaguars as the frontrunners for the championship.
Many were even gearing up for Super Bowl fever, only to be doused with a bucket of cold water.
Marrone was adjusting his breathing, trying to organize his thoughts and find a solution.
Just as Marrone was about to speak, the locker room door was suddenly flung open, and a loud bang put everyone on edge.
Some even clenched their fists and stood up ready to fight, but upon seeing who had entered, they all averted their gazes one by one—
The man who held the power of life and death over the entire team, Caldwell’s furious presence meant that no one dared to meet his eyes, fearing they’d become expendable.
Caldwell paid no mind to these details.
His rage had peaked and turned into a cold calm.
Without shouting or losing control, he swept his icy gaze across the room.
The whole league is treating you as clowns, and yet you’re still prancing around trying to catch everyone’s attention?”
“Oh, sorry, did I interrupt your makeup time?”
“Do you think the opponents will just kneel before you and hand you victory without any effort on your part?
If God wanted you to advance to the Super Bowl, He’d have shown a miracle by now.
But seeing your fat asses still wobbling in front of me, I can tell God probably didn’t have that idea.”
“So, you need to fight for it yourselves.”
“Defensive group, what kind of make-believe are you girls playing at?
Letting those softies get whatever they want?”
It wasn’t unusual for the Jaguars not to score; it wasn’t the first time this season they faced a shutout in the first half.
However, allowing the opponents to surge ahead with seventeen points in the first half, that was a different story.
The Jaguars’ defensive performance had fallen far short of expectations.
That was the real problem.
“Just Smith and Li Wei, that’s all they’ve got, and you couldn’t stop them?
What, are their handsome faces so distracting that you’ve lost your minds and can’t bear to lay a hand on them?
Are you going to kneel down and lick their shoes?
I would quite like to see that spectacle.”
“You nauseating bunch, your fat asses look like 150 pounds of chewed bubble gum.
If you can’t move those asses, just let me know, and you can all get out.
I’ll send in the cheerleaders; at least they can boost the ratings.”
Caldwell’s outburst came down like a storm, silencing the entire locker room, even halting breaths.
After venting for a while, Caldwell swept his gaze across the room again, his anger still not subsided.
“Wake up, princesses, it’s time to really kick some ass, or else, after the game, it’ll be my turn, and believe me, I won’t be as gentle.”
He said each word slowly and lightly, Caldwell’s calm gaze sweeping over everyone, lingering on each player before finally resting on Marrone.
Then, without paying any more attention to the trembling looks in the locker room, Caldwell turned and left, not even sparing an extra glance.
There was no rage, no profanity, no obscenity.
The calm and indifferent voice fell lightly, but cast the entire locker room into deep fear—
That included Marrone, who had Caldwell’s unwavering support throughout the season.