Dominate the Super Bowl

No matter Bailey's motive and attitude, there's at least one point where he's correct—

In the professional Football arena, no one goes easy on someone else because of a difference in weight class.

In fact, quite the opposite, utilizing mismatches to overpower opponents with size and weight differences is a very common tactic in Football's offensive and defensive strategies.

For instance, the Offensive group using the Tight End to overpower the Cornerback.

For instance, the Defensive group using the Defensive End to overpower the running back.

There's a maxim on the Football field that only numbers and strength are irreversible advantages.

During the NCAA period, including when he faced the Crimson Tide Storm's Defensive End Allen, Li Wei had more than one or two head-to-heads with Defensive Ends, and entering the professional games should be no different.

Just right, Bailey could help Li Wei genuinely experience the intensity level of the NFL, he believed that his future opponents would definitely not show any mercy, and he also believed that there were many who were eagerly waiting to step on the Top Scholar of the 2017 draft and prove themselves.

Thus.

Li Wei stepped out.

So, what exactly is this bullfighting in Football?

"Li Wei, just shake off the tackle," Childres's reminding voice came from beside him.

That's how it is.

In a sense, just like in basketball, Football's bullfighting is a one-on-one, with the difference that Football tests your tackling and collision skills.

No need for an actual Football, truly, just like in a bullfight.

"Ready. Get set."

Bailey, woke up.

The eyes that had remained unawakened behind his helmet finally opened, and as the two men faced each other, crouched, bent at the waist, one hand supporting the ground, somewhat similar to the starting stance of a 100-meter sprint, Bailey's gaze pierced through the helmet and fell upon Li Wei, with a bloody aura.

The beast, awakened.

Around them, a roar erupted—

"Go, Bailey, show him some color."

"Rookie! Rookie!"

A collection of ferocious faces twisted grimly, the air filled with the smell of gunpowder as if in a coliseum, feet tapping the ground, slowly beginning to gather force.

This was slightly different from the mode Li Wei was familiar with.

In the past, on the college field, he often had some initial space whether to accelerate or change direction, always able to create opportunities to avoid size disadvantages and leverage his strengths, even when facing the team captain and Defensive End Allen from his own team.

But this was different.

There was only a yard's distance between Li Wei and Bailey, a formation identical to the face-off between Defensive lines and Offensive lines in official games, which meant Li Wei had no space for acceleration or maneuvering, he had to clash head-on, he had to engage physically.

Weaknesses had to be confronted.

No wonder Childres had stressed earlier that everyone except quarterbacks, without exception, had to participate in the training.

Physical confrontation, this is the essence of Football, collisions, tackles, evading, breaking through, all revolve around physical combat, and every position except quarterback will face this— it's not a possibility, it's a certainty, everyone must train.

In the NCAA, hit and confrontation training was often against sponge bags, just like boxing against sandbags, continuously battling against machinery.

The thing is, machines have no life, no warmth, they don't start, don't change, nor can they feel the aura, making training relatively simple.

But now, it was entirely different.

A yard's space was closer than imagined, Li Wei and Bailey's bodies both leaned forward, their helmets nearly clashing, you could feel the air compression between their intersecting gazes and tensed muscles, both panting heavily due to warm-up exercises, hot breaths spraying like bulls onto each other's faces, heating and boiling the air, almost scalding the skin on their cheeks.

Whistle.

Childres blew the whistle. Continue reading stories on empire

In an instant, they launched.

"Bang!"

Barely starting, it was like hitting a wall.

With no time to react, Li Wei had just released his power when he felt an overwhelming force collide head-on, holding back and swallowing his burst of strength and then rebounding back, irrationally rushing toward him, flipping his center of gravity in an instant.

Hmph.

A tightness in the chest.

All the organs seemed to explode within, but before the pain could set in, the body lightened, breaking free from the grip of gravity, and only a second later did it realize it had been sent flying, the black foam pads turning dark before the eyes.

Bang!

Face landing.

Now, the purpose of these foam pads was finally clear.

It was only then that the pain nerves seemed to catch up, sending continuous signals, with pain and shame flooding in together and exploding in the brain.

There was no chance. Not a single one. It was sheer overpowering.

Standing in front of Bailey, Li Wei finally understood what it felt like to try to stop a chariot with a mantis's arms, his whole world spinning.

"Oh, rookie."

"Please, rookie, make it a bit more challenging."

"Show some skills, rookie."

"Is this what a Top Scholar is? Hahaha."

"Poor kid."

The mocking laughter and jeering came down like a pouring rain, ruthlessly bombarding Li Wei's eardrums with furious rage.

Li Wei felt dizzy, and just as he was trying to stand up, Bailey slammed his shoulder hard, sending him back down to the foam pads, "Stay down."

Cruel. Furious. Venting.

Caught off guard, Li Wei was thrown back like a paper figure.

Bailey, watching Li Wei spin, finally let out a breath, pounding his chest like King Kong, his piercing gaze sweeping the field—

Mahomes. Kelsey. Hunter.

Those "overenthusiastic and overzealous" players all entered Bailey's radar, and he made his presence felt in his own way, silencing them a bit.

Today was just the first day of spring training camp; there really was no need to go all out, and he believed these guys would calm down after this.

Bailey turned his head to the side, spat, and was about to take off his helmet for a rest when he heard a voice.

"How about it, got the strength for another go?"

Wait, that voice was...

Quietly, the commotion died down, all eyes turning in one direction, Bailey turned to look and then saw Li Wei, catching his breath in great gasps.

No disarray, no shame, no anger.

Not only was there none, but the smile at the corner of his mouth was even lifting, his eyes sparkling with a lively and cheerful light, seemingly more excited than before, eagerly rubbing his hands together as if he relished the collision and couldn't wait to have another go.

The onlookers' knees went weak: Could this guy be an M?

Damn!

Bailey's heart also skipped a beat.

But Bailey quickly regained his composure; since someone was volunteering to get hit, how could he refuse such generosity? Naturally, he had to reward the other party properly.

"Heh, you haven't been knocked silly, have you?" Bailey couldn't help but quip.

Li Wei cracked his neck, the bones making a creaking sound, "Haha, probably need a few more times for that."

Despite the smile on his lips, the bloody scent that wafted between them spread, chilling to the bone, and the surrounding noise and cheering died down a bit.

Even the usually lively Mahomes calmed down, watching the scene before him with unease.

Then, Bailey and Li Wei lined up again, just like before, in a space less than a yard apart, almost feeling each other's breath.

"Whistle!"

Childres blew the whistle once more.