Dorian O'Daniel, the Tigers' number six safety, was completely unprepared for what was coming. He had anticipated taking another step forward to complete the tackle, but instead, Lance crashed into him head-on before he could adjust his footing or strength.
Out of pure instinct, O'Daniel tried to wrap Lance up for the tackle.
But then—
Boom!
The force hit him like a tidal wave, crashing down on him with full intensity.
"Ugh."
O'Daniel let out a groan as he absorbed the impact. Lance had charged into him with such power that O'Daniel's tackle failed to close. A massive blow hit him square in the chest, causing him to stagger backward, struggling to stop his momentum.
A split second later, O'Daniel realized that he had turned into a human shield, absorbing collision after collision from his teammates as they piled on behind him. But each hit was taken by him, knocking him completely off balance.
This is bad!
Panic surged through O'Daniel's heart, but it was already too late. Lance had unleashed his strength once again, and the 220-pound (100 kg) safety was tossed aside like a rag doll, creating a path for Lance as if he were sweeping away obstacles with a heavy weapon. O'Daniel was cast aside, clearing space for Lance to surge forward.
Without losing momentum, Lance continued his run, harnessing the centrifugal force from his spin. He planted his foot and burst to the right, his acceleration instantaneous and explosive.
Wham!
A defender appeared in front of him at the last second, trying to shut down any chance of gaining speed. It was a perfect example of the Tigers' "human wave" defense, leaving no room for Lance to build momentum. In an instant, the defender wrapped his arms around Lance's waist and took him to the ground.
It was a solid hit, a heavy tackle.
Lance felt the pressure as the defender wrapped him up. His energy was almost spent, and it seemed like he was going to go down. But instead of succumbing to the tackle, Lance dug in his heels, continuing to push off the ground.
He gave everything he had, holding nothing back.
"Argh!"
He gritted his teeth, channeling all his strength from his core.
"Argh!"
With each step, his muscles screamed in protest, but he powered forward, dragging the defender along. It was almost impossible to believe—Lance was actually pulling his would-be tackler forward, inching toward open space.
The Tigers' defense finally realized the shift in momentum and swarmed in, sending wave after wave of defenders crashing in to stop Lance.
On one side, the Tigers were doing everything they could to bring him down.
On the other side, Alabama's players rushed in to help push Lance forward.
It was trench warfare—true in every sense of the word.
"Argh! Arghhh!"
Lance could feel his strength draining with every second, his body on the verge of collapse. Finally, the pile of players overwhelmed him, and he went down. Both teams' players piled on top of him like a mountain, forcing the referees to step in and pull bodies apart, one by one, to clear space.
Panting heavily, Lance gasped for air as if it were on fire.
Bryant-Denny Stadium erupted in chaos—absolute, uncontrollable chaos.
The crowd was going wild!
What had just happened left Todd Blackledge in stunned silence.
A first down?
Number 23 had just bulldozed his way to a first down!
It was unbelievable, downright astonishing. The Tigers' defense had read Alabama's play perfectly and looked poised to stop them yet again, but Lance had somehow turned the tables, flipping the game's momentum in a matter of moments.
Blackledge blinked in disbelief, then turned to his co-commentator Pasch, at a loss for words.
Pasch, with a mischievous grin, simply shrugged and spread his hands, as if to say, "I told you so."
"Roll Tide!"
"Roll Tide!"
The stadium reverberated with thunderous cheers, waves of jubilation surging through the crowd. After half a game of silence and frustration, the fans had finally found an outlet for their passion, and the roar of 100,000 voices painted the sky crimson over Tuscaloosa.
Finally, Bateman managed to pull Lance out from under the pile of bodies, only to find Lance clutching the football tightly to his chest, carefully protecting possession.
Ball security.
This was the first lesson Burns had drilled into Lance's head as he was introduced to the running back role. It had been repeated so often that it became second nature to him.
Standing up, Lance handed the football to the referee. Bateman, noticing Lance's expression, was startled.
There was a fire in his eyes.
Lance glanced over at the Tigers' defense, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he could taste the blood in the air.
Bateman's heart skipped a beat. "What happened? Did they play dirty?"
Lance shook his head. "No. I just think this game is getting interesting."
Though Lance had faced elite defenses in system simulations many times, this was his first real experience against a "4-3" defense. The difference between theory and practice had never been more evident.
The challenge of maintaining balance and restarting his momentum after colliding with a defense like this was immense. On top of that, the relentless pressure from the Tigers' defense added to the difficulty. Though they were missing a linebacker, their strong safeties were quick to fill the gaps, completing the surrounding defense.
Without help from the wide receivers and tight ends blocking, the running back would face overwhelming pressure near the line of scrimmage and in the short passing zone.
But on the flip side, once a running back broke through this area, the backfield would be wide open and ripe for exploitation.
In the National Championship Game earlier that year, Derrick Henry had excelled at smashing through defenses in short-yardage situations, but his ability to capitalize on long runs was limited. As a result, Henry was forced to retreat time and again to fight his way through defenders, making the game exhausting for him.
In today's first half, both Jacobs and Clark had repeatedly run into walls, failing to break through the Tigers' defense.
Lance, like them, wasn't naturally inclined toward short-yardage battles—his strength was in quick bursts and direction changes. But he wasn't afraid of physical confrontation. The Tigers weren't even one of the strongest defenses in the NCAA, and their two defensive stars weren't on the field. If he couldn't find a way to break through here, he might as well go home.
Lance had some ideas. He was ready to experiment—
The game, after all, was proving to be quite fun.
Bateman blinked, watching Lance's grin spread across his face. A chill ran down his spine, and he swallowed hard. "Lance, what should we do?"
Lance's smile widened. "Follow the coach's plan. I just have a little personal idea—just a small one."
Turning his head, Lance caught a glimpse of number 99, who was looking back at him. Lance raised his hand in a friendly wave. "Hey."
Ferrell froze for a moment, confused: What did number 23 mean by that? He was mocking him, right? That was definitely a taunt. He'd make sure number 23 paid for that!
Damn it!
Ferrell cursed under his breath.
At Alabama's 35-yard line, first down.
Coach Saban decided not to overwork Lance, sending in running back Emmons to switch up the rhythm instead.
In football, physical confrontation is the name of the game, and the body takes a beating. Almost every position sees rotations due to fatigue, and there's no limit on substitutions during a game—
Except for quarterbacks. They stand in the pocket and avoid contact, so starting quarterbacks usually play the entire game.
Running backs, however, are different. Every run is a brutal clash of bodies, and no running back can go the full game without relief. Different plays require different running backs, with each bringing a unique style to the game.
In the NFL, teams even assign running backs based on specific situations. A first-down running back and a fourth-down running back might have completely different styles.
That's why Burns was so eager to bring Lance into the fold. Depending on just one or two running backs wasn't enough to last through an entire season.