Dominate the Super Bowl

Chapter 681: 680 Who is the Sacrifice
 

“Opportunity is in our hands. We will win.”

“I’m confident and we will win, it’s as simple as that.”

Lamar Jackson gathered his teammates, looking around with a determined gaze, and spoke with impassioned eloquence, his enthusiasm boiling over.

Immediately, Edwards understood the deeper meaning behind Jackson’s words—

Obviously, it was a dig at Li Wei’s famous quote from the Super Bowl earlier that year.

“Heh heh,” Edwards started to laugh, “We all have confidence, and we will win. Hey, Lamar, we’re not just satisfied with a field goal.”

Edwards paused, “Wanfu Mary?”

Jackson’s expression was serious, and he didn’t join in the joke; instead, he shook his head, “Wanfu Mary is a try in dire situations, I will end the game before it comes to that.”

He disdained to stoop to Li Wei’s level, every time it was the same, facing dire situations over and over, mired deep in trouble. Maybe a miraculous turnaround was spectacular for neutral fans, but let’s be realistic—given the choice to dominate and sweep, who would prefer a last-second victory?

He, for one, did not need it.

Forty-three seconds, three timeouts, the Baltimore Ravens could kill the game, Jackson wouldn’t let the team fall into trouble, he refused to learn from Li Wei.

Hmph.

Jackson snorted, “Count to three. One. Two. Three!”

“Ravens, Ravens, Ravens!”

All the offensive players responded in unison, turning to take the field with their heads held high, ready—

To kill the game their way at Arrowhead Stadium and to steal a victory from the American League’s top seed.

Jackson believed that the Baltimore Ravens would enter the playoffs and even more, that the Baltimore Ravens would be this year’s Super Bowl dark horse, just like last season’s Kansas City Chiefs, with a matchless performance that would surprise and dazzle everyone; he was going to prove that whatever Li Wei could do, he Lamar Jackson could do too.

And he would do it better.

Jackson took a deep breath, having honed his skills for two seasons, everything was leading up to this moment.

“Defense!”

“Defense!”

The Arrowhead Stadium crowd, without exception, all stood up, clapping in unison, shouting at the top of their lungs, pushing the atmosphere to its limit.

The pressure was like a tsunami, bearing down.

“Attack!”

Jackson’s voice teetered on the brink amidst this raging storm, seemingly on the verge of being shredded to pieces at any moment.

Yet, Jackson was steadfast, turning, he handed the football to Edwards—

Heh heh, a surprise, isn’t it, unexpected?

With forty-three seconds left in the game, on their own twenty-five-yard line, the Baltimore Ravens actually chose a ground attack.

Harbaugh was audaciously mad, even with three timeouts at his disposal, this tactical choice still completely broke expectations, truly worthy of a strategist.

Indeed, Harbaugh caught Reed completely off guard; the Kansas City Chiefs Defense had retreated, concentrating their efforts on pass defense.

The front field was virtually empty, including the linemen and cornerbacks who had all moved back, creating space, giving Edwards plenty of room to push forward on the ground.

It inevitably reminded people of the Kansas City Chiefs against the Pittsburgh Steelers in the final moments of last season; the difference being that back then, the Chiefs had to score a touchdown, while the Baltimore Ravens now only needed a field goal to clinch the game.

Harbaugh didn’t care about Jackson’s personal thoughts and wishes, he needed a victory, no matter the method.

So, Harbaugh’s unexpectedly ground-oriented attack precisely exploited the misalignment in the Kansas City Chiefs Defense’s tactics.

Edwards was elated: There it was.

Ahead, an open path laid out before him, clear and unobstructed.

Edwards reminded himself not to be greedy; ten yards for a first down was enough, to avoid wasting time, to lay the groundwork for what followed, even though he really wanted to be the team’s superhero, now was not the time.

Ten yards would do.

Ten yards were more than enough.

Diagonally ahead, a flash of red appeared—it was none other than Chris Jones.

Edwards didn’t panic, and instead, he revealed a ferocious grin—

Perfect, another sacrifice.

“The Bus” Edwards had not encountered an equal in single combat in the league this year; a collision with him was essentially a car crash—and he was never the one injured.

Edwards didn’t slow down or adjust his posture, but sprinted at full force, not fast but with his weight and strength entirely unreserved. With the posture of a Tyrannosaurus rex, he charged head-on and collided fiercely.

Wait, where is he?

The collision that should have occurred didn’t happen, which made Edwards stunned for a moment. With his bulky body and slower cognitive speed, he had no idea what had happened for a while.

Chris Jones knew that going head-to-head with Edwards was like a sheep entering a tiger’s den—with no return. If he wanted to stop Edwards, he had to use his brain.

Bend the knees, lean forward, lower the center of gravity.

Jones crouched down completely, choosing not to use his shoulder to deliver the hit but instead aimed for Edwards’s midsection and hips, fitting his shoulder squarely against them.

The collision, slightly slower than expected, didn’t take long to happen. What was supposed to happen still occurred.

Jones unleashed the force of his step from the ground without reservation, shouldering and lifting with explosive energy from deep within his Dantian, instantly breaking the balance—

Not the balance on a horizontal line but on a vertical axis.

Edwards held his breath, unable to exert force, and the next second, he realized his whole world was flipping upside down, completely disoriented.

“God!”

“Overshoulder takedown stop!”

“Incredible, Kansas City Chiefs’ Jones has actually pulled off a solo interception, stopping Edwards with his own strength.”

“Is this a sumo match?”

Roar roar roar!

Ahh ahh ahh!

Arrowhead Stadium erupted in an instant, the whole stadium shaking vigorously.

With a swift rise to his feet, Jones threw Edwards thoroughly away without giving a second glance to the disoriented man on the ground.

Clap. Clap.

He dusted off his hands, as if it was effortless.

On the sidelines, Harbaugh choked on his breath and was decidedly stunned.

What on earth is this?

Looking at the dazed Edwards with a bewildered face, his expression practically scribbled with the question “Who am I? Where am I?”, Harbaugh’s confusion was doomed to remain unanswered; but Harbaugh had no time for regret now—

Time-out!

The Baltimore Ravens had to use a time-out, even without gaining a yard, as the passage of the game clock was something they couldn’t afford.

So, is this shooting oneself in the foot?

Harbaugh took a deep breath to stay calm and began to quickly direct the play.

Now, the Baltimore Ravens had no choice but to take the lone Huashan path and pass the ball, with pressure and hope resting entirely on Jackson’s shoulders.

This gem, picked at thirty-second in the first round—what was his mettle really like? The current predicament was a test, and Harbaugh needed to be bold.

Second down and ten.

All eyes in the stadium were watching, all bustling towards Jackson, even Karen, a casual spectator, knew now the Ravens had to pass the ball.

“Defense!”

Despite Arrowhead Stadium’s overwhelming cheers, the air was still charged with tension. Jackson’s gaze was fervent as he looked ahead, his ambitions surging within him—

Bring it on, this is the moment I’ve been waiting for.

“Attack!”

The snap call, explosive.