American Football: Domination

The playoffs continued in full swing.

Though the "Reid Bowl" clash between Pederson and Nagy promised a battle of wits—a kind of indirect Super Bowl rematch—the matchup between the Los Angeles Chargers and the Baltimore Ravens was even more compelling from every angle.

That was why the league scheduled it in prime time.

This marked the first time in Joe Flacco's career that he was benched.

After Eli Manning's drama with the Giants the year before, Flacco now sat relegated to the sidelines. The younger generation had fully taken over—the era of transition had never been clearer.

No doubt about it, Lamar Jackson was the biggest rookie success story of the season. From being ignored on draft day, falling all the way to the 32nd pick, enduring humiliation and skepticism, to becoming the only first-round rookie QB to lead his team into the playoffs—his rise was meteoric.

So the duel of "Jackson vs. Rivers" carried incredible intrigue. Having already replaced Flacco within the team, could Jackson now topple Rivers and extend his playoff run?

Because if he did, his next opponent would be… Brady.

The mere thought of it had media and fans alike in a frenzy.

No surprise that the hype before kickoff was deafening.

On Sunday morning, Lance's apartment was buzzing with noise.

For him, having a bye in the first round of the playoffs was a new experience. It wasn't exactly the same as a regular-season bye week—the schedule was similar, but the mindset, pressure, and atmosphere were completely different. Playoff football had its own weight.

The Chiefs had learned this lesson the hard way before. In 2016, they finished 12–4, earned the AFC's No. 1 seed, and had a first-round bye. Then, when the Steelers came to Arrowhead, the Chiefs weren't mentally sharp, and a narrow 18–16 loss ended their run.

That scar was still fresh, especially for Hill, Jones, and the other third-year players who had been rookies at the time. They knew how crushing it was to be unprepared.

So Lance organized a "party" for this playoff weekend. He wanted the younger players to gather, stay focused, and watch games together—almost like therapy.

But once word spread, Kelce, Houston, and the veterans complained. Before long, everyone invited themselves over. Soon, Lance's bachelor apartment was packed.

In truth, Lance suspected their real motivation wasn't camaraderie. More likely, the married guys just wanted to escape spending Sunday stuck at home with wives and kids.

And since none of them brought family along, his theory seemed pretty solid.

But that didn't matter.

What mattered was that they were all together, locked in on playoff football.

The first game of the day, Eagles vs. Bears, drew plenty of banter.

"Justin, what's the difference between Pederson and Nagy's styles? Who do you favor?"

"Pederson. Experience counts. Coaching playoff football and not coaching it—huge difference."

"I like Pederson too. That Super Bowl was something else."

"Maybe, but the Eagles are banged up. The Bears are healthier, and Nagy's been impressive."

The chatter never stopped.

Meanwhile, Mahomes slipped into the kitchen, lowering his voice. "Rook, are you sure about no alcohol? Isn't that kind of harsh?"

This party was dry.

Normally, a couple beers in the bye week wasn't a big deal. Reid never banned alcohol outright.

But Lance had made it clear: absolutely no alcohol today. Not even beer. The guys were stuck with soda, juice, Gatorade.

He knew the danger wasn't the drinks themselves, but the mindset. It was too easy for "just a couple beers" to turn into losing focus.

Mahomes felt bad. The other guys had been pestering him about it. They wouldn't dare ask Lance directly, so they shoved the responsibility on him.

Lance smiled. "It's fine. Tell them the liquor's in the storage room. Beer, whiskey, even Maotai my dad sent me."

Mahomes squinted. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely. Price is simple: one bottle equals ten extra sets at practice tomorrow. On my count."

Lance flashed a grin, all teeth.

Mahomes shivered.

"And don't worry about keeping track. I'll make sure the entire team pays the penalty together."

Mahomes swallowed hard. He wasn't sure if he should deliver that message or not.

Lance patted him on the shoulder. "Go on. Tell them. If they've got a problem, they can come to me. The storage room's unlocked."

Mahomes retreated nervously, while Lance's phone started buzzing.

He answered with a laugh. "Hey, Felix."

It was the kid from the hospital. They'd exchanged numbers so Felix could reach him anytime. Usually, Felix only sent the occasional photo from the chemo ward, never wanting to bother him.

But today, his voice was shaky, strained.

"Lance… I'm sorry… I really need help, I'm so sorry…"

The repeated apologies came through, raw and pained.

Lance's smile vanished instantly, his chest tightening.

"Felix!" he called out sharply.