The moment I threw the ball, I frowned and cursed under my breath: it was off-target.
The power and direction were both slightly off. The muscles in my arm were still a bit tense, and the feel of the ball was different. The moment the football left my hand, I could feel the loss of control and the deviation from its intended path.
I was a little annoyed. My lack of game experience was still a potential problem. With the change in my muscle condition, I hadn't made any major adjustments to my throwing motion or strength. I was still too green, and I hadn't thought things through carefully enough, especially with the time ticking.
I quickly scanned the end zone out of the corner of my eye. Besides Ted Ginn, Logan Newman and Michael Crabtree were also open. One was a tight end and the other was a big receiver. Both of them had a physical advantage. In a situation where my throwing accuracy was off, using the receivers' individual skills and physical talent to complete the catch was one of the many things a quarterback had to think about.
If I had to choose again, I would have thrown to Logan. Crabtree's window was too narrow. Logan had a better chance.
After this experience, I had to remember the lessons learned.
My gaze then fell on Ginn, and I watched as his fingertips flicked the football, changing its flight path. He then held the football firmly and controlled his feet, hanging on the edge of the line, like a ballet dancer on a cliff.
My heart was in my throat, suspended in mid-air. Then, I heard the referee's whistle, and his raised hands gave a clear answer: "Touchdown!"
"Yeah!" I clenched my fist and jumped high into the air, releasing all my joy and exhilaration. Then, I let out a crazy roar, letting go of all the frustration and suppression from earlier. "Ahhhhh!"
This touchdown was so difficult and so hard-earned.
After being sacked four times, it would be a lie to say that I was still calm.
On one hand, my tactical thinking had to be more comprehensive, and my commands to the offensive line had to be more detailed to prevent the opponent from breaking through the pocket again. On the other hand, at the moment I released the pass, I couldn't help but subconsciously pay attention to my blind side. The subtle difference in my awareness was further magnified by my tense muscles.
I played this drive with extreme care, like walking on a tightrope. But I didn't hesitate for a second. The tougher the opposition, the tougher the response had to be. Only then could I firmly take control of the momentum of the game and move toward victory, step by step. And I succeeded!
Of course, a lot of the credit goes to Ted Ginn.
"Ah!" I gritted my teeth, and all the frustration in my chest was released. This touchdown felt more joyful and more satisfying than any other before. My teammates rushed up to me, patting my shoulders and my helmet, celebrating our second touchdown of the game.
"Touchdown! Touchdown! Touchdown!"
Deafening cheers were sweeping across the entire Paul Brown Stadium. Looking up, I could see the away fans' stands, where a mere 5,000 people were erupting with enthusiasm like a volcanic eruption. They were jumping, shouting, and celebrating uncontrollably. The torrent of red and gold created a huge wave.
At the same time, the home fans were a little deflated.
It wasn't that the Bengals' defense was playing poorly. It was that the 49ers' offense was just playing better. Today, the Cincinnati Bengals' defense had swept away the decline of the previous two games and was playing incredibly well. Besides the brilliant Atkins, the other defensive players were also performing well. Even the weak secondary players had made some crucial defensive plays.
But in the end, they still couldn't stop the offense led by me.
Giving up a touchdown after such a strong clash was a heavy blow. The home fans couldn't help but slump their shoulders, feeling dejected and discouraged, watching their opponents score on their home turf. The feeling was indescribable. But gradually, the dazzling gold and red in front of them reawakened their enthusiasm and energy.
They started to cheer for their own offense!
"Absolutely brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" During the game, Kirk's commentary was flawless, and Teddy never interrupted him. Now, after the tension had subsided, he couldn't help but exclaim, "After being sacked four times, the 49ers' rookie quarterback still chose to pass, and he was one step ahead in his tactical planning. In the red zone, he easily scored a touchdown! It's truly brilliant!"
Kirk's face lit up with a huge smile, and his eyes were filled with disbelief. Any praise would be redundant. His passionate commentary was the best proof of that.
After calming down, Kirk began to analyze the situation methodically. "After scoring another touchdown, the San Francisco 49ers have cemented their advantage. Now, all the pressure is on Andy Dalton. He's not only playing to win the rookie quarterback battle, but also to win the game."
"In this next drive, Dalton and his offense have to show some toughness and lead the team to a touchdown! Only then can they gain the upper hand against the 49ers and give their defense a better chance," Kirk said. As a bystander, he had a clearer understanding of the changing situation on the field.
Teddy also enthusiastically agreed. "Today's showdown between the two number 14s has finally reached a critical moment. A moment ago, Lu Ke showed an unprecedented toughness and poise, which is truly rare for any quarterback, not to mention a rookie. Now, it's up to Dalton."
The special teams for both sides came out to kick the extra point. At the same time, the 49ers' defense and the Bengals' offense were also getting ready to come on the field.
"Bambi, look," Logan said, patting me on the shoulder and gesturing with his chin.
I stopped and looked back. I immediately saw the player wearing a number 14 jersey. He was standing on the other side of the field. His short red hair, nicknamed "Ginger," was particularly noticeable in the crowd. At this moment, his eyes were fixed on me, crossing the entire field and looking over with a determined and honest gaze.
The entire width of the field was between us, so I couldn't see his eyes or expression clearly. But I could read the high-spirited fighting spirit and firm determination in his fiery gaze. That belief in victory was so familiar and so heartwarming.
At this moment, I could clearly feel that the "number 14 showdown" was slowly beginning. Standing on the other side were not only Geno Atkins of the defense but also Andy Dalton of the offense. This game was far from over.
Not to be outdone, I met Dalton's gaze. As the game entered the second half of the third quarter, the level of excitement seemed to have risen another notch.
"Beep," the referee's whistle sounded on the field, signaling that the San Francisco 49ers had kicked the extra point. The score gap was widened to "3:17," further solidifying their lead. Dalton and I both withdrew our gazes and refocused on our jobs, completely absorbed.
Aldon Smith was the first to come up and pat me on the shoulder. "Man, are you okay?"
Looking up, I noticed that Aldon wasn't the only one. At least a third of the other defensive players standing behind him were also looking at me with concern. I could also see Vernon Davis in the crowd. Although his eyes were on the field, his ears were perked, listening for news from this side.
"I'm fine," I said with a smile, while also doing a Popeye pose to show how strong I was, which made my teammates chuckle. Then, the defense went on the field, and the offense took a short break.
During the short break, team doctor Walt Hudson came over immediately and saw the helpless smile in my eyes. Walt raised his hands in surrender. "If you're okay, I'll leave right away. But right now, my job is to make sure you're safe and sound."
Earlier on the field, Walt had done a simple check. But my subsequent pass had gone off its intended path. Although that was perfectly normal in a football game—a quarterback wasn't a robot, and deviations and mistakes were possible—Walt decided to do some more checks just to be safe.
After saying that, Walt didn't explain much. He tugged at the corner of his mouth and made a fish-like face, seeming to hint at the direction behind him.
Looking up, I saw Alex Smith jogging and warming up, and Scott Tolzien walking beside him.
In my line of sight, Scott met my gaze and actually smiled faintly. He waved vigorously and asked with his eyes, "Are you okay?" There was no sign of a fierce rivalry between competitors in his concern and friendliness.
Scott was a big-hearted guy. In fact, his backup position was precarious. If Colin Kaepernick returned next week, there would be four quarterbacks on the 49ers' 53-man roster, which was too many. To make up for the team's defensive lineup, it was very likely that the coaching staff would choose to send Scott to the practice squad and replace him with a defensive player.
Scott was facing a severe crisis, even more difficult than me and Alex. But he still maintained a positive and optimistic attitude and never became anxious, which was truly rare in competitive sports.
As for Alex, he was an ambitious man who seemed calm on the surface.
He wasn't overjoyed or worried about the outcome. He was just warming up at his own pace, methodically. Completely focused, he seemed to be ignoring the influence of his surroundings, showing a passionate fighting spirit and belief. It was clear that he was ready to come on the field and compete at any time.
The quarterback competition had started early.
NOTE:
New chapters drop Three times a day, every Monday through Sunday! Plus, you have the power to unlock more: we'll release Three bonus chapters for every 300 votes! Let's get this story moving together.
Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/MistaQuartz
Explore up to 20 chapters in advance!