Dominate the Super Bowl-Chapter 289 - 288 Completely Drunk

Jogging along the Missouri River, the brisk mist enveloped me, and although it was early winter, vast expanses of red and yellow maple leaves still clung to the treetops without withering. The gentleness of late autumn flowed softly beneath my feet as the morning Kansas City busied itself, the trivial yet lively sounds gradually awakening the life and energy of the city.

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"Morning."

"Hey, morning."

Li Wei had become familiar with this road, and likewise, the road had become familiar with Li Wei.

For the past half of the year, every morning, Li Wei would jog along this road. Warming up was only one aspect; becoming familiar with the city, the local climate, and the biological clock for daily training were all part of it. He had passed through spring, summer, and autumn, and now winter had arrived in the blink of an eye.

Gradually, the city dwellers around the road also began to get used to Li Wei’s presence.

Seven days a week, without fail, no rest, no laziness, no neglect. Over time, the residents began to take the initiative to greet him. A simple "morning" was all it took, no need for completion, to convey the greeting.

Li Wei didn’t need to respond; a look or a wave of the hand was enough.

On his jogging route, Li Wei would pass a grain silo and a refinery, and on game days, he could see the workers gathering at the entrance early, just to greet Li Wei and cheer for the game.

It was these ordinary, trivial, simple, and seemingly insignificant everyday moments that allowed Li Wei to quietly integrate into the city and truly form a connection.

Other fans often wondered why a mere running back could win the unanimous support of Arrowhead Stadium, even if Li Wei’s performance on the field was indeed convincing. They were puzzled and couldn’t fathom the reason, let alone for a running back, even quarterbacks rarely received such treatment.

That was because they didn’t live in Kansas City, they didn’t step away from the social networks, from their phones and computers that make up the virtual world, and return to reality on solid ground, to see and experience with their own eyes.

Of course, not all voices were pleasant—

"Li Wei, damn!"

Facing such rude attacks was fine; all he had to do was flip them the bird in response. After all, they wouldn’t dare to take any real action against Li Wei’s stature; they were just mouthing off. As soon as Li Wei changed his jogging direction, they wished they could grow extra legs to escape faster.

Sometimes, there were exceptions.

"I said it, I’ve said it before."

"In the end, we will all be disappointed. Everything will turn to nothing. How could a running back save us? Even a quarterback couldn’t do it, so what can a running back do?"

"Ha, laughable!"

"This is simply the most idiotic daydream I have ever seen. If you don’t harbor hope, you won’t be disappointed."

"Some are still dreaming here of a playoff victory, foolish! Ignorant! With the current state, not even the playoffs are within reach."

"Li Wei, hey, Li Wei! What do you think, do you have any clever ideas?"

Chris Provos was drunk, stumbling out of the Old Oak Tavern, reeking of alcohol, almost tripping and tumbling down the steps. This startled Anderson following behind, his heart almost leaping out of his throat. He managed to grab Provos’ right hand but didn’t expect to be dragged out with him.

Li Wei, who was jogging by, saw this and slammed on the brakes, spreading his arms to catch Provos, and used his shoulder to nudge Anderson and cushion the impact, thus avoiding a disaster.

Anderson, still frightened, pale-faced said, "Just, just put him down on the ground, Li Wei, God, thank you."

Li Wei looked at the ground, considering that it was already December, he still steadied Provos against the railing on the steps.

However, Provos was not appreciative—

"Nothing, absolutely nothing!" Explore hidden tales at novelbuddy

From their first meeting, Provos—that slick-haired man—didn’t like Li Wei, always singing out of tune, radiating sadness, anger, struggle, and pain, and nothing had changed now.

"Ha."

Provos began to laugh, like someone who had lost his mind.

"Haha, should we believe in you? Tell me, Li Wei, should we believe in you?"

"No..." Provos muttered to himself while shaking his head repeatedly in denial, "In the end, when the season was over, there was nothing left, just like each one of us. Absolutely nothing."

As he spoke, a vulnerable sadness flickered in Provos’ eyes as he looked at Li Wei.

Amid the pressing questions, Li Wei could interpret so much pain and struggle. He was about to tell Provos:

Sports are about victory, but not just about victory.

They also should not forget the efforts and hardships on the way to the championship, the ups and downs, the struggles and resistance are an indispensable part of it. Without the bitterness of failure, there is no sweetness of victory; without the hardships of battle, there is no joy in victory.

And they were still fighting.

However, before the words could even escape his lips, Provos blinked and looked at Li Wei with a bewildered stare.

"Sorry..."

Before he finished speaking, Provos turned and leaned over the railing of the steps to vomit, much like hanging sauerkraut to dry.

Unfortunately, there was nothing in his stomach but alcohol and stomach acid, and the air was filled with a sour, rancid stench.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, with no time to stop it.

"God! Charles! Charles!" Anderson cried out.

After yelling twice, West came out from within. Seeing Li Wei only had time to raise his hand in greeting before noticing the mess at the doorway, he rolled up his sleeves and dragged Provos inside like dragging a burlap sack, all the while muttering complaints under his breath.

Anderson looked at Li Wei—

A thousand words were reduced to a single "sorry".

Li Wei couldn’t help but offer a wry smile and gestured dismissively, "Was there something special last night?"

It was still morning, and for a tavern, it was indeed too early; as for the evening, Missouri had regulations about the closing times for bars, with some closing at 1:30 AM and most at 3:00 AM.

All-nighters were prohibited.

Anderson shrugged lightly, "Yes, my birthday. After the bar closed, we had a card game, just a gathering of friends."

So that was it.

That explained Provos’ condition; despite being flat broke and with Anderson refusing to let him run up a tab, he still managed to drink to the point of vomiting.

Anderson had caught on to what Li Wei was thinking, "He just took the opportunity to drink."

After a pause, "Li Wei, I’m sorry, Chris is just full of nonsense."

Li Wei waved his hand dismissively, "I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand."

Hope is such a thing:

Not having hope is cruel, but the despair that comes after hope has appeared, only to be extinguished, is a far more excruciating torment. It would be easier if hope had never appeared at all because what is more terrifying than hope is the uneasy anticipation.

Starting the season with six straight wins ignited hope for a bright future for the Kansas City Chiefs; then the despair of six straight losses, plunging suddenly into the abyss, was a torment beyond words.

Especially since—

"Chris has never liked me. We’ve never gotten along from the start. I’m used to it," Li Wei joked with a deadpan expression.

Anderson was momentarily taken aback before realizing that Li Wei was joking and couldn’t help but smile himself. He hesitated but still decided to ask.

"Do you have a moment?"