Sitting at the commentary desk, Kirk Charleston was all kinds of flustered. "Whoa!" He couldn't keep his thoughts straight but blurted out, "Number 11 just came in like a boss, made a quick and dead-on throw, nailed the tactic, and completed a nine-yard pass. Logan found a gap, cruised through, and snagged twenty-three yards. That pass not only yanked the UCLA Bruins back from the edge but also showed some serious skill."
Kirk's brain was on overdrive. He didn't know who Number 11 was; he just caught a glimpse and thought he looked Asian, but before he could confirm, Number 11 had already slapped on his helmet and started running the offense.
Once the game kicked off, the player roster got tossed aside. Now, Kirk had to grab it again to find Number 11's name, but there was no time to check before the offense kicked in. A slick short pass moved the chains in a flash, securing a fresh set of downs.
Kirk couldn't catch a break; he didn't even have a second to peek at the roster. He found himself shouting, "Number 11 is running the offense again. He's clearly looking to take advantage of the opponent's confusion to spark the Bruins' momentum. Kevin Prince's injury messed up the Bruins' rhythm, but it also threw off the Trojans' defense. The game's flipping fast, and it's all about who adapts quicker. Looks like the Bruins are ahead. Number 11 is at it again!"
Kirk clutched the roster tight, and the commentary just flowed out of him. "Snap! The Bruins' offensive line surged forward, holding off the Trojans' first wave. Number 11 stepped back, adjusted, and threw—wow! Just wow! The release speed was insane. Logan caught it, Logan Newman snagged it again, dodged a hit, ran out of bounds, and stopped the clock."
When the football goes out of bounds, the game clock stops, which is key for managing time.
"Let's break down that play!" Kirk quickly said. "After the snap, Logan sprinted to the right sideline, stopped on a dime after five yards, turned, and caught the ball. Between two defenders, he snagged it easy. Number 11's pass was too quick for the defenders to read, and it was spot-on, landing right in Logan's arms. The rest was up to the Bruins' star tight end!"
"Check out that release speed! Just 1.78 seconds. Lightning, pure lightning!" Kirk watched the replay again. "Number 11 didn't give the defense any time to react—quick release, quick catch, quick advance!"
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Kirk couldn't help but shout, "Another ten-yard gain, and the clock's stopped. The Bruins are at midfield. Since Number 11 came on, the offense has been smooth as butter, it's a thing of beauty! Wait, Number 11's on the move again, no time to breathe. The Trojans' defense looks lost, totally out of it. A pass? No, it's a run! Marcus! Marcus! Marcus scores again!"
"That's a fourteen-yard run, clean and crisp! It's also the Bruins' first run over ten yards tonight. Holy smokes! The Trojans are looking lost." Kirk kept shouting. Not just the players on the field, even he, sitting at the commentary desk, felt the same. Since Number 11 came on, the game's pace had tripled, making it hard to keep up. "That run was killer! Marcus's legs are on fire tonight!"
Marcus handed the football to the ref without any celebration, just sprinted back. Even he didn't realize his rhythm had synced with Luke's. Running back quickly, Marcus and his teammates huddled around Luke, and sure enough, they got Luke's straightforward instructions, "Practice game! Remember the practice game? First down tactics!"
Luke had never really clicked with the main squad.
Even though the team's quarterbacks all learned the same plays to avoid any hiccups if they had to sub in, Luke had never played in a real game. During regular drills, the main QB got all the reps, and the backups mostly just talked strategy with limited practice.
So, Luke knew his biggest edge wasn't his own skills, but the fact that the defense had no clue about him. Playing to his strengths and their weaknesses was Luke's game plan.
For the second offensive play, the so-called "Number One Tactic" wasn't some secret play but a code between Luke and Logan. To keep the defense from catching on that Logan was the target, Luke just shot him a look. The "Number One Tactic" was really the "Number One Route," the most basic route Logan had drilled into Luke during practice.
The whole plan was about speed—no time for the defense to think, just get the pass off quick! The rest of the team? Their job was to buy time for the pass. Two seconds, that’s all they needed; the rest was up to Luke’s 70% short pass accuracy.
For the third play, Luke threw a curveball and went with a run, catching the defense totally off guard. After two quick short passes, with each play clocking in under fifteen seconds, the defense was gasping for air, expecting another pass. But Luke handed the ball to Marcus, who was on fire today.
This surprise move made the offensive line's job a breeze, clearing a path for Marcus. Not only did he get the ten yards, but he also pushed another four, putting them at the opponent's forty-yard line.
Time to roll the dice!
With the rapid-fire plays, the players' minds were blank, no time to breathe, and their stamina was peaking, making them sluggish and foggy.
This was a spot where they could either push forward or hold back. Even if they missed the first down, Luke still had a shot. Basically, he could afford to take a risk.
So, Luke went with the first down tactic from practice. He knew the risks of a long pass, knew the opponent wasn't some third-string team, knew that while the defense was gassed, his own guys were feeling it too. But this was the perfect moment to gamble! No better chance.
Marcus's first reaction was to gape, a bit stunned; but he quickly shook it off. He clenched his fist and shouted, "Left or right?"
Since it was a long pass, the tight end and wide receiver were the go-to guys. The running back's job was to help the offensive line, blocking defenders to buy more time for the QB. So, Marcus would stick by Luke, blocking any defenders that slipped through, becoming Luke's last line of defense.
"Right," Luke said quickly, his eyes darting between Logan and John, finally nodding at John.
Logan was a tight end, great at blocking but not as fast; John was a wide receiver, all about speed. This was key for Luke's decision; plus, the last two passes had gone to Logan, drawing more defenders his way, giving Luke more time for the long pass.
"Don't give them any breathing room!" Luke clenched his fist, scanned his teammates, and then slammed his fist down. "Game on!"
No extra words, no objections, everyone turned and ran to their spots, ready for the snap, showing their support for Luke through their actions.
Luke didn't line up behind the center but positioned himself three or four yards back, level with the running back, just a bit offset, clearly signaling a pass, creating space between him and the defenders. This little move started to mess with the defenders' heads.
What’s he up to? Is he really gonna pass? Or is he faking it to hand off to Marcus? He was behind the center before; why step back now? Long pass? Medium pass? Wildcat formation?
The defense's tired minds were spinning, unable to think straight. The shout of "Offense" rang out. "So fast?" That was the only thought in every defender's mind. They weren't ready to think, just relying on instincts to rush forward. Whatever the play, if they tackled the QB, problem solved.
But wait, why’s he running to the right? Is he leaving the pocket on purpose? What’s going on? Why’s the whole offensive line moving right? This isn’t a run; it’s a pass! Should they fall back to cover the receivers and tight ends? No, it’s too late!
One second, two seconds, three seconds, four seconds, release!