Dominate the Super Bowl-Chapter 284: Hard to swallow

Finally!

Bart finally admitted his mistakes on the nationwide live show "Inside the League" and acknowledged Li Wei’s excellence, which was a heavy bombshell for the entire Professional League.

On the one hand, admitting one’s mistakes is never easy for any adult, let alone a professional commentator. The difficulty of humbly facing one’s errors in one’s domain of professional authority and yielding is unimaginable.

It was tough, really tough for Bart.

But did he have a choice?

No.

If he continued to be stubborn, the only thing he would lose was his authority. Over these six weeks, Li Wei’s masterful maneuvers had slapped his face with precision like slaps, their sound rivaling a symphony. Being stubborn and hardheaded was meaningless now—

Instead, it could only turn him into a clown.

Desperate, angry, but without a solution.

Unintentionally, this also became a classic moment of this season’s "Inside the League," with the immediate ratings even making a small surge.

Moreover, the video, animated images, and screenshots of Bart admitting his mistakes quickly became widely circulated memes on social media.

Clearly, the onlookers were everywhere, not just in the studio.

On the other hand, this act represented a form of recognition.

Over the past period, Bart had quietly become a flagship figure among the "Li Wei Haters." In a league where everyone else was blindly adoring, he was like a refreshing stream. This won him massive support from many netizens, scaling new heights in his career, forming a small "Li Wei Haters" group around him, refusing to "wallow in the mire" with the League.

Now, the flag was down.

The internet trolls were in complete disarray, wailing everywhere, suddenly finding themselves headless in a dilemma; they scattered like birds and beasts, no longer influential.

Doubtlessly, this was a landmark turning point, meaning that the skepticism and controversy that had clouded over Li Wei’s head since the draft had all finally concluded. Whether people liked it or not, or whether they agreed or not, Li Wei had already stabilized his footing in the Professional League, securing his position successfully.

All was exactly as Donald Yee had predicted:

Rookie. Running back. Chinese descent.

These tags, at a glance, seemed all negative, derogative, prejudiced; however, now, they all became footnotes to a legend.

In the meeting room at the Nike West Coast Headquarters Building, employees were also watching the live broadcast of the game, celebrating and cheering, clapping, and hugging, their faces filled with excitement and ecstasy. The buoyant atmosphere was not outdone by Arrowhead Stadium or the Old Oak Tavern.

Among the crowd, Edwards remained calm and composed, elegantly weaving through the people. He kept his spine slightly straight but never lost composure to punch the air in celebration; instead, he assumed a posture of "I saw this coming all along," confidently controlling everything, basking in the admiration and praises showered upon him.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Since signing with Li Wei last week, Edwards faced immense pressure, walking a tightrope, every step precarious, the situation extremely challenging.

But it was just one week, starting with the booming jersey market and then the last-second victory over the Pittsburgh Steelers sustaining the Undefeated Golden Body, Li Wei had proven himself once again, and the whole situation changed completely.

Just like Li Wei’s situation, all those voices of doubt disappeared.

One could guess, Adidas and Under Armour must be beating their chests in regret. They had once been so close to Li Wei, so close to changing history; but such is reality. Nike once again demonstrated foresight, seizing the opportunity with guts and audacity, gaining the upper hand.

And now, they were just beginning their journey.

Edwards: Sorry, Li Wei isn’t yours anymore. Continue your adventure with novelbuddy

"Li Wei!"

"Li Wei!"

Both inside and outside the television screen, at Arrowhead Stadium and the Nike office, everyone was calling the same name, raising their champagne glasses to celebrate the victory.

However, in the same space, the Pittsburgh Steelers were engulfed in hellish flames, burning fiercely like Bart.

For the Pittsburgh Steelers, this was undoubtedly a bitter defeat—

They had controlled the game throughout, they had completely taken the initiative, and victory was already in their grasp, just beyond their fingertips.

Yet, they missed it.

Incredibly!

In such a tight contest between strong teams, details determine the outcome, and any minor error could be crucial in turning the situation around, but they made too many mistakes at the last moment.

In the Steelers’ own final offensive drive, if Brown could have advanced a few more yards on that catch, if Bell’s ground run could have been more bold and decisive, just one more first down would have prevented the Kansas Chiefs Offense from having a chance to take the field, and there would be no further story.

And in the Steelers’ last defensive stand, from interpreting tactics to confronting arrangements to on-the-spot reactions to head-to-head confrontations, if they had done any aspect a bit better, the outcome might have been different; but they didn’t, Hayward, Watt, Mitchell, Hilton all made successive errors.

And so.

"19:24".

Le’Veon Bell looked up at the big screen above Arrowhead Stadium, the bright score so glaring, even more striking than the boiling red wave filling the stadium.

In his years in the League, Bell had faced countless defeats, tasted bitterness, pain, and despair, he had now become much more composed, but this defeat—

Still tough.

Not just for Bell, the other Steelers players also found this defeat hard to swallow.

At a glance, Bell could sense the tense atmosphere between Brown and Roethlisberger, although it wasn’t obvious, both players, key figures in the locker room, with distinct personalities and tempers, if they had won, all the conflicts wouldn’t matter, but in such a painful defeat…

Many eyes turned to Bell, hoping he could ease the atmosphere.

But Bell was not interested.

He was just a "mere" running back, doing the hardest work for just a little bit of salary. Last year, contract year, he had already proven his value at a top level, hoping to secure a large contract for running backs—

He swore, not just for himself, but for all running backs in the League, to fight for their benefits. Only by breaking the barrier, could the average salary of running backs keep up.

Instead, the Pittsburgh Steelers tagged him with the disgusting franchise tag, the intent could not be clearer, blatantly making him work like a horse, to see if he could stay healthy, if he could bring top performances for a second consecutive contract year.

Damn.

Those quarterbacks, each one like baby chicks without any capability, their overpriced big contracts signed one after the other as if money didn’t matter—they were the treasures, while the hardworking running backs were just grass.

Although running backs were also a crucial part of the team, 30%, if not 50%, of the Steelers’ offensive achievements came from his hard work, yet was this the result of his fight for a big contract?

But, he would not give up.

He would prove himself, fully, he would show everyone that running backs were not expendable, and he would show everyone that running backs also deserved their place.

So, why should he, a small fry, have to meddle in the conflict of the two heavyweights in the locker room? He now had an even more important historical mission to uphold, right?