Chapter 414: First Signs of Success

“Hike!”

Lu Ke’s firm, powerful voice boomed across Candlestick Park, and the players surged forward like a cavalry charge.

On the left, Crabtree lined up outside and Gene inside, with about five yards between them. Both bolted forward like wild horses, burying their heads and pushing their speed to the absolute limit, seemingly determined to run deep routes.

On the right, with Williams inside and Logan outside, the gap was even wider—about seven yards. Both pumped their arms and dug their cleats into the turf, charging forward with an imposing momentum that showed no intention of stopping for a short pass.

The four players were like four sharp blades drawn from their sheaths, their unstoppable charge unleashing a devastating force.

One player was a steady, powerful runner, a threat on short and intermediate routes. The other was light and agile, with complex and unpredictable movements, a significant threat in the intermediate and deep zones.

The receiving corps on both sides of the Offense Line was the same: a dazzling and swift two-pronged attack. The route combinations were filled with endless possibilities and hidden dangers. Paired with Lu Ke’s precise passing and smart distribution, they could strike anywhere and were nearly unstoppable. In the first half of the season, the San Francisco 49ers had defeated many opponents with this very offensive formation.

In an instant, alarm bells went off for the New York Giants Defense Team. A flash of panic made them a beat slow, but then the conditioned reflexes of professional athletes took over. In their man-to-man coverage, each player began shadowing their assignment, sticking to them step for step.

Under pressure, the New York Giants had no choice but to use man-to-man coverage. On this down, the 49ers’ play-call had given them the upper hand; the Giant Team was being led by the nose.

Defensive End Jason Pierre-Paul knew this was bad. As a key player for the Defense Team this year, Pierre-Paul was in top form, his instincts razor-sharp. He had sensed the danger when Lu Ke called the audible, but before he could react, the ball was snapped. Pierre-Paul could only rely on his instincts and react—

On the Giants’ defense, Pierre-Paul was the only player who kept pace with his opponents. But it wasn’t enough.

In the man-to-man coverage, Pierre-Paul was responsible for Kyle Williams. After the snap, Williams pushed his speed to the max, not looking at the defensive formation, not looking at his teammates’ routes, just immersed in his own world, accelerating, and accelerating again. Pierre-Paul relied on his athleticism to stick close to Williams, but something still felt wrong.

He glanced over out of the corner of his eye, and the alarm bells in Pierre-Paul’s head started ringing again.

On the 49ers’ left—the Giants’ right—Crabtree ran seven or eight yards before cutting sharply inside into the open space in the middle of the field. One of the two players responsible for covering the intermediate zone immediately stuck to him. Meanwhile, Gene had pushed his speed to the limit, gradually shaking off the cornerback covering him, and was the first to break into the Long Pass Area.

Across the entire San Francisco 49ers offense, no one could match Gene for pure speed.

Thus, Gene sliced through the coverage like a knife, showing his threat. The other player covering the intermediate zone immediately moved to help. Even the safety positioned deepest in the backfield started to drift to the right. If Gene broke free, the safety would be the last line of defense.

‘Something’s wrong,’ Pierre-Paul thought, alarms blaring in his mind. He had no time to figure it out, though, because Williams was a real handful.

Williams wasn’t top-tier in either speed or strength, and Pierre-Paul had him locked down, giving him very little room to make a catch. But Williams relentlessly pushed deep, not on a straight line, but on a fifteen-degree slant to the left, gradually squeezing into the middle of the field.

In their one-on-one matchup, Pierre-Paul had the clear advantage, shutting down any possibility of Williams making a catch. At the same time, he was closing in on Crabtree’s area, ready to provide help at a moment’s notice. So, Pierre-Paul quickly scanned the field and glanced toward the quarterback, trying to read the passing lane.

‘Wait a minute, the ball’s no longer in the quarterback’s hands. The offensive linemen are already standing still, while the defensive linemen are turning with panicked looks, scrambling toward their own backfield.’

‘What’s going on? It’s only been two seconds? Lu Ke already threw the ball? His release is way too fast! Was it a short pass? If so, the target would be Williams or Crabtree. But where’s the ball? I didn’t see its trajectory. What’s happening?’

Pierre-Paul’s muscles tensed. He looked up, squinting against the blinding sun. He could just make out a shadow gliding across the sky, like a hawk with its wings spread, soaring serenely. The air seemed to ripple around it, and its powerful flight, riding the wind, had an elegant beauty.

‘Is that… a Rainbow Pass? So it’s not a short pass—it’s a bomb!’

‘Damn it! It really is a long ball! The San Francisco 49ers offense looked like they were going deep, and they actually did it! No tricks, no deception, yet they still completely fooled the New York Giants!’

Just then, Pierre-Paul finally realized what was wrong. A long pass, this was a long pass!

From a bird’s-eye view, excluding the four players on the Defense Line, the other seven defenders for the New York Giants were scattered across the field. In the middle of the field, three defenders were covering two receivers. On the right, two defenders were covering one receiver. One defender, the safety, was in the deep backfield, but he was drifting toward the right. That meant—

The left side of the field was in single coverage: one defender on one receiver.

“Damn it!” Pierre-Paul cursed under his breath. ‘The San Francisco 49ers’ routes completely broke the New York Giants’ defensive formation. They exploited the weakness of our man-to-man coverage to create a favorable matchup.’

‘If Lu Ke’s target from the start was his own right—the Giants’ left—and it was a deep route, then this quarterback is terrifying. His ability to read a defense and design routes is chilling. This is a pure tactical beatdown!’

‘Now, all I can do is pray,’ Pierre-Paul thought. ‘Not to the left, please not to the left.’ It would be best if the pass was to the right, to the speedy Ted Ginn Jr. Then they could form a three-on-one encirclement.

But when he turned his head, Pierre-Paul couldn’t help but groan.

Somehow, Logan Newman was already inside the twenty-yard line on the left, pushing toward the fifteen!

“Fuck!” Pierre-Paul couldn’t stop himself from swearing. His eyes landed on the cornerback in single coverage on Logan: Prince Amukamara. ‘God, you’ve got to be kidding me. That rookie cornerback again?’

The same one who’d just missed the tackle on Vernon Davis.

…

Head down. Sprint. Accelerate.

Logan’s mind went completely clear, all distracting thoughts banished. Adrenaline surged, and his speed began to build. The rookie cornerback covering him, Amukamara, had subpar positioning technique; he relied more on his physical strength, using collisions to disrupt Logan’s rhythm.

Every time Logan created a bit of separation, Amukamara would use his raw athleticism—matching speed with speed—to close the distance. He’d follow up with a bump that, while not enough to knock Logan over, disrupted his footwork and made his stride choppy. It was infuriating.

In the same situation at the start of the season, Logan would have had to just take it and suffer in silence. His physical talents were at a disadvantage against such physical play. The advantages he held in high school and college had vanished. His deep-route receiving ability would have been gradually neutralized under the pressure from the league’s black cornerbacks, eventually causing him to fade into mediocrity.

But for the past few weeks, Logan had been strength training with Lu Ke. Under that monster’s supervision, Logan hadn’t gained much weight, but his explosive power had improved significantly.

So, Logan stayed patient. He’d sprint, absorb the contact, reset his rhythm, and sprint again. He started from the forty-yard line, crossed the thirty, the twenty-five, the twenty. Then, Logan started to adjust his steps. With a quick turn, he instantly spotted the ball, which had already left Lu Ke’s hand and was still climbing.

In an instant, Logan used a few stutter steps to deliberately break his own rhythm, causing Amukamara’s feet to get tangled up. Then, Logan exploded forward, unleashing every ounce of energy in his muscles. The sudden, un-telegraphed burst of speed instantly created a small window of separation.

It was barely a three-yard gap, but for Logan, it was enough. He turned, backpedaled a step, and tracked the ball’s trajectory, constantly adjusting his footwork.

‘It’s a back-shoulder pass!’

The ball was meant to land just behind Logan’s left shoulder, a spot where the defender couldn’t make a play on it—either by intercepting it or batting it down.

Logan immediately got into position to make the catch, but before he could even get his hands up, Amukamara was on him again like glue. The young black cornerback’s phenomenal athleticism was on full display. Logan had exhausted his entire arsenal of moves just to create that fleeting sliver of separation.

But even though the window to make the catch was impossibly small, for Logan, it was enough.

While still backpedaling to adjust, he took a long stride, then another. He planted his foot and pushed off hard, launching himself into the air. His body arched back dramatically, like a high jumper doing the Fosbury Flop. He soared, hands raised and ready for the ball.

Just then, Amukamara’s hand shot out. He grabbed the collar of Logan’s jersey and yanked down. Hard.