"Ahhhhhh! We won! We won! Ahhhhhh!"
On the TV screen, Arrowhead Stadium was engulfed in madness. A fan wearing a red No. 23 jersey bounced wildly between the seats and aisles, waving his arms like a maniac who believed he could take flight if he just flapped hard enough.
Finally, he reached the front of the stands and threw his arms toward the broadcast camera, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Victory! Victory! VICTORY AHHHH!"
Veins bulged on his neck, spittle flying everywhere. He looked ready to explode on the spot — but he didn't care. He unleashed every ounce of energy from deep within his soul, shouting with all his might.
And he wasn't alone.
The once-silent, suffocating Arrowhead crowd, teetering on the edge of despair, had been slowly reignited by Lance's electrifying performance as the Edge Runner. The tension gradually climbed before erupting like a volcano.
The entire world seemed to shake.
Everyone was screaming, roaring, and jumping, shaking the earth beneath their feet. A red-hot wave surged across the stadium like molten lava, setting the air ablaze. Sparks of energy crackled in the air, and an endless crimson sea roared to life with unstoppable force.
Red. A sea of red.
Once upon a time, Lance had set Bryant-Denny Stadium ablaze in crimson, leaving behind a legend in that quiet southern town. Now, he had awakened Arrowhead's sleeping red giant.
The gloom? Gone.
Last year, the Kansas City Chiefs were humiliated at home by the Pittsburgh Steelers in the playoffs. That nightmare had lingered ever since, dragging them into a deep, dark abyss with no end in sight.
Until now.
With the No. 23 rookie running back at the helm, Kansas City was pulled from the depths of despair. Lance, moving like a force of nature, sprinted toward the sun, reigniting a golden flame across the city.
And there was no stopping it now—
"Lance."
Someone called his name. No one knew who said it first, but in an instant, the chant spread like wildfire, resonating with the entire stadium.
"Lance! Lance! Lance!"
Over and over.
The world knelt before him, trembling in awe.
If Arrowhead was heaven, the ESPN studio was hell.
The scene unfolding on screen plunged Bart into utter despair. The same moment, viewed from two different perspectives, created two drastically different realities.
A comeback? It was actually a comeback?
For a fleeting moment, Bart was consumed with rage.
What the hell was Tomlin doing? He knew the Chiefs only needed a field goal to win. He knew Smith didn't have the arm strength for a Hail Mary. How could the Steelers leave the midfield open?
How? How could they make such a stupid mistake?
But that anger vanished in an instant.
Even if the Steelers' defense faltered in the final moments, it didn't diminish Lance's brilliance. He had single-handedly turned the game around. Against Watt, Mitchell, and Hilton — all in the face of overwhelming odds — Lance delivered an indisputable game-winning performance.
Reality hit Bart like a freight train. The truth was undeniable, and his heart shattered into a million pieces.
How had things spiraled to this point?
Bart couldn't wrap his head around it.
A rookie. A running back.
One college season? That wasn't enough data to trust. No serious analyst would put too much stock in a single NCAA season. Lance seemed like a gimmick — a flashy but useless marketing ploy, nothing more than a ticket for Goodell to open the Asian market.
And yet.
The truth was staring him in the face.
Six games. Six wins.
Even without comparing him to other rookies, Lance was already standing out among the league's best. Six consecutive games with 100+ rushing yards. Six consecutive games with at least one rushing touchdown.
Not even the elite — like Adrian Peterson or Le'Veon Bell — had done that.
A league of his own.
The stats spoke for themselves. Lance had not only adapted to the NFL but had far surpassed all expectations. He was already firmly entrenched among the league's top running backs.
And Bart?
From opening day, he had been the loudest critic. He clung to his stance for six weeks straight, stubbornly resisting the evidence. But each time Lance shattered expectations, Bart's confidence cracked a little more.
Still, he fought against it.
A man doesn't just admit he's wrong. That would be like slapping himself in the face.
What about his pride? His reputation? His career?
Six long weeks of defiance — only to end up humiliated. Bart seriously considered retiring early to escape the shame.
What now?
Bart wrestled with himself. His thoughts tangled in confusion and frustration. He was stuck in purgatory, burning in the flames of his failure.
"Blair?"
"Blair!"
Paul Crosby, host of ESPN's Inside the League, was exhausted.
Managing a panel of ten analysts was a Herculean task. It felt like an aerobics workout every time he hosted the show. And now, Bart was zoning out — on live TV. Crosby just wanted to grab Bart by the shoulders and shake him awake.
We're live! LIVE!
Meanwhile, the rest of the panel watched with amusement.
They were witnessing a car crash in real time, and none of them were about to look away.
"Bart!"
Finally, Bart snapped out of his trance, his mind dragging itself out of the pit of despair.
He glanced around. Everyone was staring at him — especially Lawson.
Lawson, ever the nice guy, wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away.
"Blair, you said before the game that tonight's matchup would provide the final answer. So, what's your conclusion?"
Trapped. No way out.
On the TV screen, Arrowhead Stadium continued to shake with thunderous chants.
"Lance! Lance! Lance!"
Bart took a deep breath. His jaw clenched, his foot tapped nervously. He made up his mind.
Here goes nothing.
"A fantastic game. A well-deserved victory."
"Congratulations to the Kansas City Chiefs and to Lance. No doubt about it, this was a hard-fought, epic win. The Chiefs earned it."
He paused.
"Lance proved himself tonight. He capitalized on the Steelers' defensive mistake with a brilliant play and delivered the most dazzling, calculated game-winning touchdown of the week."
"The victory belongs to him."
Bart sighed deeply. He braced himself.
"I was wrong."
"My analysis was biased and incomplete — and completely off the mark. Lance passed his biggest test yet against the Steelers. His consistent, efficient performances since the season began have cemented him as the league's top running back right now."
"And, as of this moment, Lance is undoubtedly the brightest star among the 2017 rookie class."
"I have to admit it — Lance is far better than we ever imagined."
Finally, Bart bowed his head.
He surrendered.
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Powerstones?
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