"Roar!"
It was rare, but Foster let out a thunderous roar. Normally quiet and reserved during practice, even he couldn't suppress his passion in this ga. He slamd the football into the ground, igniting the stadium's cheers.
Across the field, Watson was in disbelief. He ripped off his helt, cursing under his breath as he stord back to the Tigers' sideline. His usually calm deanor had turned into a scowl as dark as the night sky, and he couldn't stop muttering curses to himself.
The montum had shifted yet again.
At this mont, Swinney realized his mistake. But it was too late for regrets. He glanced at Lawrence and the others, who were eager to get back in the ga. Without any more hesitation, he waved his hand, sending his starters back onto the field.
Since things had already reached this point, they had to win. In sports, no mistake or misstep can't be erased by a victory. As long as they won, all the errors would be forgotten, and the Tigers' spring training could end on a high note.
Swinney's eyes sharpened with determination:
"The Crimson Tide offense versus the Tigers defense."
The key to this ga would be the weaker points of both teams. Swinney believed that if they could stop this drive, Watson would return and secure the win.
Everything depended on this mont.
Lawrence didn't hesitate. The mont he saw the coach's signal, he sprinted onto the field at full speed, scanning the crowd until he spotted one familiar figure—
#23.
A smile crept across Lawrence's face. Was that guy ready? Lawrence wasn't Ferrell. He was about to show what a true defensive lineman could do. His starting spot wasn't handed to him—Ferrell wasn't even worthy of carrying his gear.
Lance felt a chill run down his spine, goosebumps popping up. Reflexively, he turned and imdiately locked eyes with Lawrence in the crowd.
Lawrence didn't bother hiding his intentions. In fact, as their gazes t, Lawrence gave a mocking grin, running his thumb slowly across his throat, flashing his white teeth in a wide grin.
"Ha.
Haha.
You'll never forget . My na will haunt your nightmares, waking you in terror every night. I'll make sure you rember well."
Lawrence let out a wild laugh, clearly pleased with his performance, before putting on his helt and taking his place in the defensive line.
Lance: What was his na again?
With a smirk, Lance donned his helt and joined Bateman, ready to line up for the play.
Foster's interception had occurred near midfield, but because he was surrounded by Tigers players, he couldn't return the ball. However, he did manage to set up the Crimson Tide at their own 47-yard line.
In other words, the Tide only needed two first downs to reach field goal range.
For the Tigers' defense, this was a tough assignnt, but Lawrence, Watkins, and Wilkins were full of confidence. They had shut down the Tide's first-team offense in the first half—there was no reason they couldn't do it again in the second. All they needed to do was contain Lance, just like they had shut down Derrick Henry last year.
They had faced Henry; what was a skinny guy like #23 compared to that?
They were ready.
Lance noticed the way the Tigers' defense was looking at him. Standing in the pocket, he quickly read the defensive setup—sothing he had learned from the Adrian Peterson template. Not only do quarterbacks need to read defenses, but running backs also need to. Otherwise, they'll just run into walls, wasting energy and getting nowhere.
The defensive front was clearly playing aggressively. Both the defensive line and the linebackers had shifted forward, aiming to compress the short passing lanes and close off running lanes while also preparing to pressure the quarterback and go for a sack.
The Tigers' fangs were fully bared.
This was the sa challenge that Hurts and Jacobs had faced in the first half, and now it was Bateman and Lance's turn.
There was, however, one subtle detail—
All the Tigers' key defenders had their eyes on Lance. Even as they tried to keep a poker face, their attention was clearly fixated on him. Their nerves were tight.
Are they treating like Derrick Henry? Lance thought to himself.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lance glanced at Coach Saban. Their gazes t briefly. Saban didn't give any special indication, focusing instead on delivering instructions to Bateman. However, there was a flicker of approval in Saban's eyes.
Coaches set the strategy, but players still needed to understand it on the field. Since each player's interpretation can vary, unexpected outcos often occur during gas.
Saban knew Lance understood the ga plan. The real question was whether the young, aggressive Tigers defenders understood Swinney's tactics.
Sure, Swinney needed to pressure the Tide's offense. Bateman wasn't the type of quarterback who could stay calm under pressure—this was why Saban had chosen Hurts as the starting quarterback. Hurts was still young and needed more experience, but the Tigers' pressure tactics were sound.
However, those young defensive players seed too focused on Lance.
The strategy was right, but the details were off—and Saban was ready to exploit that.
The play call was set—
"Hike!"
Bateman shouted as he received the ball from the center. He imdiately turned, taking two quick steps to et Lance, handing the ball off to him.
Lawrence: Gotcha!
With a push-off, Lawrence launched into action, his eyes glued to #23. It was obvious that Lance was aware of the increased defensive intensity as he faked a move toward the middle before cutting sharply to the right. His acceleration was fast, just like in his previous long runs on the right side.
But Lawrence wasn't fooled. He planted his feet, stopped abruptly, and quickly cut to the side, easily shedding the block from his opponent, Cotton. Lawrence was clearly more skilled and mature than Ferrell, tearing through the offensive line like it was paper.
One shove, and Lawrence shook off Cotton, moving like lightning as he closed in on Lance, determined not to make the sa mistake Ferrell had.
#23 was now within arm's reach.
Lawrence's heart leapt with excitent.
But sothing felt off—Lance was almost too eager, seemingly running right into him.
Was Lawrence tackling Lance, or was Lance tackling him?
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Lawrence caught sight of a football arching through the air—a perfect spiral.
Wait... what? Why is the ball there?
Snapping his head forward again, Lawrence saw Lance's face looming larger and larger until everything went black as he was flipped upside down.
Surprise!
-----
Powerstones please.
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