American Football: Domination

To observe the whole by peeking through a tube, to generalize from fragments—these are flawed approaches. And yet, rumor and speculation are inevitable.

From Bell to Brown, it was clear the Steelers had mismanaged things during the offseason. Locker room tensions had worsened and were spreading fast.

It wasn't just the players—there were likely disagreements between the coaching staff and the front office too.

But—

Lance didn't care.

That was Pittsburgh's locker room problem. It had nothing to do with him. If he had time to gossip, he'd rather drop and do a couple sets of squats.

Honestly, Lance didn't care about Brown at all—

It wasn't personal. He just had zero interest in the Steelers' drama. Now that the game was over, the Steelers were the past. Leave it behind and look ahead to the next opponent.

Once the game ended, Lance's only concern was his teammates.

In today's game, second- and third-year players played key roles—Fowler, Jones, Ragland, Watkins, Mahomes, and more. After a turbulent offseason, this was their first outing as reigning champions. Everything was new.

In terms of process, they still had much to learn and grow. But in terms of outcome, they took a crucial first step.

That was worth celebrating.

So Lance encouraged each teammate one by one. Finally, his tension eased a little.

Until he spotted TJ Watt, already out of uniform, standing off to the side waiting for him.

Lance chuckled and shook his head, joking as he walked up, "You're standing there like a teenage fangirl, all hopeful-eyed and waiting. Don't your teammates mind?" As he spoke, he took off his jersey and exchanged it with TJ.

The game was over. It was time to put rivalry aside—for now.

Though the sting of defeat still burned in TJ's chest, he wasn't the kind to dwell. He'd turn that pain into fuel. He would remember it—and next time, he'd be ready.

TJ picked up on Lance's subtext immediately. The Steelers' locker room atmosphere… yeah, it sucked. TJ didn't like the toxicity. But what could a second-year player do?

Control what he could.

At that moment, JuJu stood nearby, glaring at them like a jealous lover watching their partner cheat—hard to ignore. TJ had no clue what was going through JuJu's head.

TJ shrugged, "Who cares if they mind? If they wanted this, they should've waited too. Maybe you'd sign something for them."

Lance burst out laughing. "Ha!"

TJ accepted Lance's jersey and bumped shoulders with him, clapping him hard on the back. "Great game. I mean it."

The "Lance vs. Watt" battle was a pivotal storyline. It had gone back and forth until the second half of the third quarter when Lance leveled up and blew through the Steelers' defense. TJ gradually lost ground.

TJ had thought, after their offseason work, the gap would shrink and the match-up would be tighter than last year. But somehow, the gap had grown. If he didn't know how much work both of them had put in, he might've spiraled into doubt.

But now?

Lance was TJ's benchmark. He had to work harder. If a Super Bowl MVP pushed himself this hard—how could TJ slack?

"But this isn't the end, you know that, right?" TJ added.

Lance laughed freely. "Looking forward to next time."

TJ exhaled slowly. "You seem different this year. I was gonna wait for you in the tunnel."

Lance followed his gaze—and saw his teammates still out on the field, thanking the home crowd. He got it.

Last season, Lance always went straight to the locker room after games. He rarely lingered.

Today, he stayed. Hugged every teammate.

A tiny detail—but not so simple.

Lance had thought no one noticed. But TJ, a linebacker trained to notice details, clearly did. Lance grinned, "A captain should act like one, right?"

TJ beamed.

Lance shrugged, "I'm not totally sure what being captain means yet. But I'm learning."

During the offseason, with Alex Smith traded to Washington, the Chiefs' offensive captain spot was vacant. In summer camp, Coach Reid gave it to Lance.

In football, captaincy doesn't come with real power or duties—it's symbolic. Some teams rotate captains every week; some don't even name them. But to Lance, it meant responsibility. A force to unite the locker room.

He wanted to carry that responsibility well.

TJ smiled. "Based on today, I'd say you're doing great."

Lance smiled too. "Step by step. No rush. Hope you guys bounce back—we may get another shot at each other this season."

If the Chiefs and Steelers were to meet again, it'd have to be in the playoffs.

Last year, Pittsburgh missed their shot at the AFC title game—and revenge. Today only added to their regrets.

TJ caught Lance's meaning and gave a stiff smile. "We'll get another chance. This time, we won't blow it."

Message received.

With a firm handshake, TJ turned and walked off.

The moment he left, JuJu came running over, barking loudly, "Next time you won't be so lucky!"

Truth was, while Brown had vanished today, JuJu broke out. Targeted 17 times, he gained 121 receiving yards—a solid performance.

But his success meant little. It only marked the Steelers' collapse in the fourth quarter. His shining moment was overshadowed by their defeat.

JuJu couldn't take that.

Hence, this scene.

As soon as he said his piece, JuJu turned to leave—he knew how sharp Lance's comebacks could be.

But then came Lance's voice, smooth and unhurried: "I hear third time's the charm."

A subtle jab—maybe, just maybe, next time would be their lucky break.

Not only did Lance not clap back, he even wished the Steelers luck?

That grace and calm hit JuJu like a dagger. His face flushed beet red—like a steaming liver about to burst.

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Powerstones?

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