American Football: Domination

First and ten, three-yard line in front of their own end zone.

It was a tough and dangerous starting position. The Kansas City Chiefs' offense stood inside their own end zone, feeling the overwhelming pressure of the Jacksonville Jaguars' defense closing in.

The tension, already high since the first quarter, kept escalating. The Chiefs, teetering on the edge of disaster, looked like they might finally break.

The two sides faced off with completely different energy—

In this situation, the Chiefs' play call had no secrets. To avoid a safety, a running play was the most likely choice, pushing forward just enough to escape the danger zone before opening up their full playbook.

Out of 100 plays in this situation, 99 would be runs.

Plus, the Chiefs' passing game had struggled so far, and the Jaguars boasted one of the best pass-rushing defenses in the league. The decision was obvious.

So.

The Jaguars knew the Chiefs would run. The Chiefs knew the Jaguars knew they would run. How could they break the deadlock when the strategy was no secret?

Lance stayed calm—

Despite his excitement and adrenaline surging through his veins, his focus remained razor-sharp, fully locked in.

He was reading the defense.

Lance could see the Jaguars' aggressive intent, their eagerness nearly overflowing. Were they going all out for a safety?

If Smith, Lance, or any ball carrier got tackled in the end zone, it would be two points for the Jaguars. If the ball was fumbled and recovered, it would be a touchdown.

The Jaguars wouldn't miss this opportunity.

The pressure was suffocating.

So, what should Lance do?

He had an idea: counterattack.

When they couldn't seize the advantage with an aggressive strike, when a direct confrontation wasn't an option, perhaps a more patient approach was the answer—letting the opponent's momentum become their own weapon.

Just like Steelers running back Le'Veon Bell's signature move: pause, read, react.

Lance wasn't Bell. But after experiencing multiple training models, he was slowly discovering his own style—

He was ready to try it.

Taking a deep breath, Lance noticed a glance in his direction. Reflexively, he looked over and caught Smith's hesitation.

It wasn't Smith's fault.

This was his first time on the AFC Championship stage. The intensity was different. Last week's game had drained everything he had, and now he faced the league's best defense relentlessly attacking him. Fatigue and stress made hesitation inevitable.

In the deafening roar of EverBank Stadium, Lance didn't say much. He just smiled at Smith—a look of calm and ease.

The suffocating tension loosened, if only slightly.

Smith let out a deep breath, steadied himself, and turned to face the battle in the trenches—

The pressure was overwhelming.

Not just from the defensive line and linebackers, but from the cornerbacks and safeties creeping forward. The safeties, who typically played 15 yards back, had now stepped inside the 10-yard range.

All eleven Jaguars defenders had moved up.

Even the sight of it changed the atmosphere.

The Jaguars were tightening the noose.

So, should the Chiefs pass?

No.

At any moment, Jacksonville could send a blitz. Even if the Chiefs attempted a pass, Smith was at risk of getting sacked. Running was still the safer choice.

Once again, the responsibility fell on Lance.

Thousands of eyes locked onto him.

The stadium noise peaked, a warlike tension filling the air, swallowing the Chiefs whole. Smith's cadence was barely audible over the chaos.

"Set!"

Boom, boom, boom!

Bodies crashed together, shaking the air with their impact—

The Jaguars blitzed.

And the play design was brilliant.

Both defensive ends rushed wide, pulling apart the pocket. Meanwhile, two linebackers surged into the gaps they left behind.

The defensive linemen stayed engaged, preventing the offensive line from reacting, while the linebackers burst through, aiming straight for the quarterback.

A simple switch in assignments completely flipped the dynamic:

Both defensive ends and both linebackers attacked the pocket.

The pressure exploded.

And then—

A safety charged forward like a missile, adding even more chaos to the onslaught.

The Chiefs' already fragile protection barely held together.

Smith was trapped. Pressure closed in from every angle, an avalanche of defenders crashing toward him.

One second ago, he had just taken the snap.

Now, he stood on the edge of disaster.

"Sackville" lived up to its name.

Smith gritted his teeth, centered himself, and stayed composed. He backpedaled swiftly, dodging through the storm, and handed the ball to Lance.

Handoff complete.

But then—

The pocket collapsed.

Right down the middle.

Linebacker Paul Posluszny burst through unblocked.

Danger!

Smith's instincts screamed at him. Normally, his job was done—he should step aside to avoid injury. That would be the logical decision.

But in that moment, only one thought filled his mind:

Block.

They were a team. They fought together.

He was one of them. And when Lance faced the storm alone, he wouldn't just stand by and watch.

Planting his feet, bending his knees, lowering his shoulder—

Smith collided.

No hesitation. No second-guessing. He launched forward with full force.

Boom!

A muffled impact.

Posluszny, caught off guard, stumbled back into the offensive line. Smith lost his balance and fell, but—

He bought Lance a crucial moment.

A split second.

Lance took off.

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Powerstones?

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