Dominate the Super Bowl-Chapter 815 - 814 Physical Overdraft

Chapter 815: 814 Physical Overdraft

“Deadlocked.”

“The situation is incredibly deadlocked right now. In basketball, the final seconds can bring infinite possibilities—timeouts, plays; plays, timeouts—the back-and-forth combat becomes fully entangled. But in football, due to the turn-based nature of the game, the rhythm of offense and defense transitions isn’t as rapid, making such occurrences rarer.”

“Tonight, we might just witness it.”

“Edelman’s unbelievable long run not only brings the New England Patriots close to the Red Zone but also pushes the Kansas City Chiefs into an awkward predicament—

time management.”

“Right now, both Belichick and Reid have three timeouts. If the New England Patriots fail to score a touchdown, the Kansas City Chiefs will win the game; however, if the Patriots score, the Chiefs will still have one offensive opportunity. Deciding how to use their timeouts is a subtle art.”

“At this moment, one minute and forty-three seconds remain in the game.”

“If Reid doesn’t use his timeouts, Belichick’s strategy is very clear—rely on ground offense to burn through the clock, not hesitating to risk three plays just to gamble on a fourth down, going all in for the touchdown. Whether successful or not, Belichick will maintain control.”

“Thus, Reid is forced to use his timeouts to disrupt Belichick’s strategy of running down the clock, forcing Belichick to gamble on a final attempt. This would also leave the Chiefs a chance to adjust and potentially counterattack.”

“The stakes are tight and tangled.”

“Every ensuing play could lead to countless possibilities, and Edelman’s long run has granted the New England Patriots the upper hand.”

“This turn of events was clearly something none of us anticipated.”

“The Kansas City Chiefs have Li Wei, while the New England Patriots have Edelman. Two non-quarterback players become the focal points of this American League Championship game.”

Not far behind, Houston lay sprawled on the ground, his body in a starfish pose as he stared up at the night sky—

“Shit. Shit shit shit!”

He wanted to curse, pound the ground, and slap himself across the face. His chest was steaming with rage, colliding violently in every direction.

Yet, he couldn’t.

Because he had no strength left.

He didn’t even have the energy to be angry. He just lay there like a limp carrot, unable to move even a single finger. Every muscle in his body was numb.

No pain, no soreness, no sensation—nothing at all.

His brain had completely lost control over his body—

Not in the sense of paralysis, but rather… sheer exhaustion.

He felt utterly and entirely drained.

And yet, he refused to give up. He was still unwilling to accept it.

The whole season, he had been battling his body and himself. Age and injuries constantly reminded him that his professional career likely didn’t have much time left.

Logically, he’d already had a commendable career, including last season’s championship win. Even if he retired next season, there would be no regrets. But he was still unwilling to let go. He still wanted to run on the field.

He still wanted to burn bright.

Not for the championship, nor for the victory—simply because he loved those moments on the field. The running, the collisions, the strategy. The moments of blood pumping and passion roaring.

Those moments made him feel alive.

Just like Annie Galas.

He didn’t want to give up. He didn’t want to surrender. He didn’t want life to drift by insignificantly. Even if it was just one more minute on the field, he wanted to burn passionately for every second of it.

Goddammit, in that last defensive play, he had read Edelman perfectly not once, but twice. And yet, that damn guy still managed to cunningly evade him.

Unacceptable. He just couldn’t accept it.

“Justin, are you okay?” Chris Jones appeared overhead, looking down at him.

Houston took a deep breath. “Help me up.”

With Jones’ assistance, Houston stood back up. Despite his knees trembling violently and threatening to give out, he still straightened his back once more—

He wasn’t done yet. This game? He would fight to the bitter end, even if it shattered him.

“Houston, can you still go?” Reid had already noticed the defensive group’s stamina issues.

Forget about Houston’s worn-out body—Jones, Fuller, and the other younger players were all gasping for air and drenched with sweat. Everyone was running on fumes.

What’s more, Houston had quite literally been burning his life away during the second half, unleashing an astonishing amount of energy in a short time to help secure the Chiefs’ comeback.

Now, it seemed Houston was completely spent.

And yet.

If Reid could, he’d rotate out his players. The problem was the Chiefs’ defensive bench had no depth left. Injuries had decimated his options, leaving him with no one viable to sub in. Reid was in a tough spot.

As Reid looked at Houston, he hesitated. Should he pull him out?

Houston locked eyes with Reid. “Coach, I’ve got this.”

Reid remained silent.

Houston grew anxious but continued staring at Reid with unwavering resolve, his gaze firm and resolute, refusing to relent.

Beside them, Berry also stood up and looked at Reid, as if wanting to say something. Yet, in the end, he kept quiet:

Faith and willpower had always been there, but Berry knew that sports didn’t solely rely on faith and will. Without the ability to back them up, they meant nothing.

Berry wanted to vouch for Houston but realized he had no standing to open his mouth.

He could only quietly clench his fists and pray for Houston.

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Finally, Reid gave a small nod, granting Houston permission to stay on the field.

Berry pumped his fist. “Go, man, go!”

Houston exhaled a deep breath, locking his gaze onto Brady.

He was ready.

“Attack!”

The moment Brady announced the snap, all of Houston’s fatigue and pain seemed to vanish. He entered a state of total focus once more, as if this was the first defensive play of the game, calmly observing and decisively striking.

“Brady! Scanning the field! He’s passing!”

“Fake handoff and run! Brady hands the football to Michel.”

“Michel is watching the gaps. Michel is attempting to break through the slot!”

“Houston! Justin Houston!”

“Beautiful!”

“Houston, with a clean and decisive stance, stops Michel dead at the line of scrimmage! The standout performance from Michel tonight finds no chance in this ground game push. Houston delivers a textbook running back tackle once more.”

“God, Houston has been absolutely phenomenal tonight!”

“The Kansas City Chiefs have used their second timeout.”

“The two coaches are locked in a battle of wits.”

“As expected, Belichick is leaning heavily on ground offense to drain the game clock, putting all his hopes on one final attempt at a touchdown. Of course, trailing as they are, the New England Patriots already have no other choice.”

“Reid fully understands the importance of this defensive play. He’s utilizing the timeout to carefully layout tactics, guarding against the Patriots launching a surprise passing assault. Edelman remains the Patriots’ greatest threat, but we can never underestimate Gronkowski’s presence.”

“Though Gronkowski has been pretty quiet this game, a player like him only needs one opportunity—just one chance to completely flip the script and seal the game.”

“The Kansas City Chiefs Defense must proceed with absolute caution.”

Then.

Brady announces the snap once more.