The crowd was massive, stretching endlessly in every direction. Even Georgia Do, the venue for the Peach Bowl, looked small in comparison, as the throngs of people filled the area, leaving no space untouched.
People, nothing but people.
This was the ho field of the NFL's Atlanta Falcons and had hosted the Peach Bowl for the past twenty-three years. This year was particularly special.
It marked the final year for Georgia Do, as it was scheduled for demolition in ten months. This iconic structure, holding countless mories for the city and its residents, was about to beco history.
Seeing a ga here ant seeing one less in the future, so this Peach Bowl drew an unbelievable crowd, with half of Atlanta seemingly pouring out. Additionally, with today being the last day of 2016 and New Year's Eve, countless locals decided to spend this significant day at Georgia Do.
The sight was truly spectacular.
Lance thought they'd be accustod to large crowds after spending an entire season at their ten-thousand-seat ho stadium. But now that he was here, he couldn't help but be amazed:
This was different. Very different.
The bowl ga had arrived.
"Lance, are you planning to stay another year in the NCAA?"
"Next season, will you continue playing football, or return to mixed martial arts?"
"Do you think you're ready for the challenge of the NFL? After all, it's a whole different level. Do you think an Asian player can handle that intensity?"
"Who do you think is the Crimson Tide's biggest threat in their title defense? Is it Clemson, led by Watson?"
"Do you have confidence against Washington University?"
The questions ca thick and fast, with microphones practically being shoved down Lance's throat, eager reporters pressing in like a scene from The Walking Dead.
Clearly, Lance remained the center of attention, with everyone trying to get a piece of him. The dia had already moved on from Lamar Jackson, proving once again how quickly professional sports could discard yesterday's heroes in favor of today's.
But as Lance prepared to speak, a chubby figure shoved his way through the crowd, pushing the reporters aside in a protective, almost motherly manner. Glaring fiercely, he shouted:
"Back off! All of you, back off!"
"Didn't you hear about the dia ban? If you don't want to be completely banned from Bryant-Denny Stadium next season, clear out now."
"Don't make call in security to clear the place!"
"Move! For the love of God, MOVE!"
It was Burns, and he looked every bit as an as he sounded.
The reporters froze. They weren't afraid of Burns, but they were terrified of Saban. They knew that Saban ant what he said, and if he fully enforced the dia ban at the Crimson Tide's ho gas next season, it would be disastrous for their careers.
Instinctively, they raised their caras, capturing close-ups of Burns' angry face.
But Burns couldn't care less. He was undeterred by the threat of being photographed. After all, news of Saban's dia ban had already spread like wildfire across the college and professional football communities.
"Scram!"
"Get lost!"
Burns didn't hold back, flipping off the reporters as he barked at them to clear the way.
Finally, they began to retreat. No one wanted to test Saban's patience—
The consequences could be unbearable.
As the crowd parted like the Red Sea before Moses, Burns patted Lance on the shoulder, signaling with his eyes.
Lance stepped forward, wearing a confident smile as he walked through the parted sea of people. Though the eyes watching him were sharp and piercing, filled with barely concealed hostility, they dared not act rashly.
The Crimson Tide players continued forward, but one reporter couldn't resist and called out to Lance's back.
"Lance, Budda Baker says you're just a 'pretty face.' What's your response?"
Budda Baker, Washington University's star safety and the Crimson Tide's opponent for the Peach Bowl.
Baker was widely considered a first- or second-round talent. Unlike most Black safeties, Baker didn't have the advantage of size; at 5'8" (178 cm), he often found himself at a physical disadvantage in collisions. However, his football IQ, positioning, and technique were all exceptional.
Baker was a player who relied on his intellect as much as his physical abilities.
And indeed, he had perford well enough this season to rank among the top players. He was unquestionably the leader of Washington's defense.
Before the ga, Baker had already begun his psychological warfare, taking aim at Lance.
"Pretty face" was a particularly insulting remark, leaving little to the imagination.
Sure enough, Lance stopped in his tracks.
Clark looked concerned. "Lance?"
But Jacobs remained calm. He knew that handling trash talk was child's play for Lance.
"Thank you."
Lance's voice floated in the air.
The reporters were stunned. Clark and Jacobs were equally taken aback. Did Lance not catch the implication behind Baker's nickna?
No way…
"But no, I'm not interested."
Lance continued, turning and walking away without breaking stride.
Pfft.
Alan was the first to lose it, bursting into laughter. Lance had a knack for responding without using a single curse word. Watching the puzzled expressions on the reporters' faces, the Crimson Tide players couldn't help but laugh loudly and freely—
Baker had implied that Lance was all looks and no substance.
Lance, on the other hand, had hinted that Baker's complint was a confession of love, which he firmly rejected.
One step ahead, Lance clearly outdid Baker in the art of trash talk.
A beat later, the reporters caught on and began laughing heartily.
With the bowl ga approaching, the stakes had risen, along with the level of scrutiny and competition. Lance, who had burst onto the scene this season and dominated discussions in both college and professional football, had naturally beco the pri target. Everyone wanted to beat Alabama. Everyone wanted to beat Lance.
It wasn't just Baker; Washington University's quarterback was also ready to stir things up.
"No, I don't care about Lance. He's not a threat to . The only thing we need to focus on is Alabama's defense—Alan, Foster, Humphrey. Those guys are the real heroes of the Crimson Tide."
"In my opinion, the dia should focus on the players who've truly brought Alabama this far, rather than creating unnecessary hype because of soone's background. Honestly, all he's got is a pretty face."
Ouch. That was a low blow disguised as praise, but the real intent was clear—
A classic divide-and-conquer tactic.
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Powerstones?
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