"As it stands, the Jacksonville Jaguars have remained committed to their ground game, with running back Fournette playing a more crucial role than quarterback Bortles."
"For Fournette, this is an opportunity."
"An opportunity to prove he is in no way inferior to Lance. An opportunity to show he has what it takes to become a top-tier running back. An opportunity to demonstrate that a running back can change the course of a game."
"All season long, Fournette has lived in Lance's shadow. It wasn't until last week's game against the Pittsburgh Steelers that he finally reclaimed his voice. Now, he finally gets to face Lance head-on—he must seize this moment."
Unexpected but understandable, the quarterback battle between Smith and Bortles was not the highlight of the game. Instead, the showdown between Fournette and Lance had become the centerpiece of the AFC Championship—
Indeed, the times create heroes. This wasn't something Goodell could manipulate behind the scenes, yet here it was, unfolding before everyone's eyes.
Just moments ago, Lance had set a new AFC Championship record with a 103-yard rushing touchdown—the longest in the Super Bowl era—elevating his legend to a new level.
Social media had already exploded.
Now, the spotlight shifted to Fournette.
Of course, it all depended on Marrone's play-calling.
On one side, the Jaguars' offense was adjusting its personnel.
Facing a second-and-twelve situation, a run play might not be the best option; but if they passed, they would need precise execution.
On the other side, the Chiefs' defense was reading and setting up their response.
Should they go on the attack? Or wait for their opponents to make a move and react accordingly?
As a linebacker, Houston was analyzing the offense, trying to see through the misdirection and uncover their true intentions.
Wait…?
Houston frowned slightly.
Something about what he saw didn't sit right. His mind entertained conflicting assessments, but there was no time to hesitate—he had to trust his instincts.
Without delay, Houston shouted calls and made hand signals to his teammates.
With swift adjustments, the Chiefs' defensive formation subtly shifted backward—
This… was a pass defense setup, seemingly geared toward covering mid-to-deep throws.
Bortles noticed. But Bortles was a quiet, unassuming guy—like Quasimodo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, kind-hearted and loyal. He followed his coaches' play designs to the letter and didn't care if people called him a "system quarterback."
Bortles had a clear understanding of his own talent and limitations. Sometimes, being a coachable quarterback and trusting the system was the best way to secure a place in the league.
And look, they had made it to the AFC Championship, hadn't they?
Besides, what he saw now only confirmed that his coaches had made the right call—because the Jaguars were…
Running the ball.
Second-and-twelve. Everyone expected the Jaguars to pass. Yet, they deliberately chose to run it again.
With a quick turn, Bortles handed the ball off to Fournette.
"Opportunity."
Fournette remained calm and composed. He knew that this unexpected call could catch the defense off guard, creating an opening.
He was going to prove himself—
Wait!
Just a moment ago, the Chiefs' defenders had spread out as if bracing for the pass.
The next moment, their expressions changed, and they charged forward like wolves pouncing on prey.
Not just Houston—every defender who had backed off moments ago now crashed forward in an instant. Clearly, they had anticipated the run all along. Their pass-defense setup had been nothing more than a clever ruse.
Trapped.
Fournette immediately realized their play had been read. But there was no time to dwell on it—he had to react. Twisting his foot, he aimed straight for Houston, hoping to use his power to knock the linebacker off balance and break free.
However, things did not go as planned.
"A triple-team tackle."
"Oh! Fournette has no chance—absolutely no chance. The Chiefs' defense was locked in, swarming him the moment he got the ball. Three defenders, using sheer numbers, shut down his escape route completely."
"Stopped!"
"Stuffed at the line of scrimmage again! Fournette tried to power his way forward, but he couldn't even gain a single yard. The Chiefs' wall held firm, smothering the play before it could develop."
"Clearly, Kansas City's defensive read gave them the upper hand."
Just moments ago, Houston had been caught off guard by one thing—
They ran it again.
In a situation where their first-down run had already been stuffed, and they were facing second-and-long, the Jaguars still chose to run. Moreover, their offensive line's blocking scheme showed no creativity. Houston saw through it immediately and reacted accordingly.
At first, he had some doubts about his read. But now, to his surprise, he had been completely right.
Sure, Jacksonville's offense had been underwhelming, but had they really become this predictable and uninspired?
Apparently, yes.
Houston looked at Fournette, sprawled on the ground, disheveled and defeated. He didn't even feel the urge to gloat. The poor guy was still trying to challenge Lance—but the gap between them was glaringly obvious.
From team strategy to defensive reads to in-game adaptability, Fournette was outmatched in every aspect. It was clear as day—he was still just an inexperienced rookie.
People called Lance a "rookie" too, but deep down, everyone knew it was just a nickname, a joke. The irony was that Lance played nothing like a rookie—that's what made the nickname stick.
Calling Fournette a rookie, on the other hand? That would just be bullying.
Without comparison, there would be no pain.
If Fournette wanted to compete with Lance, he still had a long way to go.
Only God knew where Lance had gained all that "experience" so quickly.
Houston shook his head lightly, said nothing, and turned away.
Fournette: ??? Did… did he just see pity in Houston's eyes? Pity?!
Third-and-twelve.
Once again, Jacksonville's offense found itself in trouble.
Ideally, after the Chiefs had scored an electrifying touchdown, the Jaguars would've countered immediately to keep the game close and maintain the tension.
But this?
Less than a minute had passed, and they were already on the verge of a three-and-out. The tightly contested battle from the first quarter seemed to be unraveling. The game's momentum was shifting rapidly.
A sense of crisis loomed over EverBank Field.
Still.
Third down was still third down. The drive wasn't dead yet.
Bortles had one more chance.
Surely, the Jaguars wouldn't try to be "unpredictable" and attempt another run… right?
If they crashed into the wall again, it would be hard to tell whether Fournette was lucky or just plain unlucky. Even Houston, who had little sympathy for opponents, couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy.
Thankfully, no.
The Jaguars finally opted to pass. As soon as the ball was snapped, Bortles dropped back, all his receiving options spreading out into their routes, setting up a full-scale passing play.
Bortles was going all in!
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Powerstones?
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