Chapter 434 Volcanic Eruption

‘No penalties!’

The thought flashed through his subconscious, causing him to pull back his arms and body slightly. It was as if his hands were bound by ropes; the movement was awkward and his center of gravity wavered. But at the critical moment, his formidable physique unleashed an incredible burst of energy, forcing a second start, a second surge of power.

A lunge forward, a collision, a shove.

Crabtree viciously slammed into Aaron Ross. But Ross, just as physically imposing, showed no fear. He didn’t back down, relentless and unstoppable. The two men crashed into each other violently, a muffled THUD exploding over the field like a clap of thunder.

Crabtree used the recoil from the impact to take a step back, spin, and pause, instantly creating space between them. At the same time, Ross lost his balance. Overwhelmed by inertia, his powerful body tipped forward, crashing heavily onto Crabtree’s back.

But Crabtree was already prepared. He dug his feet into the ground and powerfully pushed back, bracing against the collapsing weight. The force of action and reaction exploded between them once more, making his insides churn. The space between the two men opened up again.

With the momentum, Crabtree adjusted with a quick shuffle step, his body and balance now set. Then, the football appeared in his line of sight, flying toward him like a bullet fired from a gun!

Completely in the zone, Crabtree forgot everything else. It was as if the force of another impact on his shoulder didn’t even exist. His eyes were locked on the incoming ball.

The pass was a little low, aimed for his abdomen—likely to prevent the defender from swatting it away at the last second.

His focus absolute, Crabtree’s pupils contracted, then contracted again until the entire world shrank to nothing but the football. He bent his knees, lowered his center of gravity, and adjusted his hands into receiving position—

THUMP. A heavy impact struck his gut, the force spreading fiercely through his entire abdomen.

He caught it!

…

Ryan Baldwin was glued to every move on the field. His tension reached its peak, and he became lost in the moment, his eyes darting quickly and erratically. Lu Ke, Logan, Crabtree… Amid the chaos and frenzy on the field, it was impossible to find a clear narrative thread, but he couldn’t bear to look away, desperately trying to capture every frantic detail of the play.

One twist, then a second, then a third, but it still wasn’t over. They hadn’t lost, but they couldn’t win either. The unexpected turns were endless, a roller coaster of highs and lows. An offensive play after the clock hit zero, with the situation changing so fast no one could keep up.

His heart seized up, paralyzed and stiff. His blood seemed to congeal in his veins. Time and space lost all meaning, and it felt as if even his brain had stopped working.

Suddenly, everything in his line of sight shifted to slow motion.

Ryan could even see Lu Ke’s every move, clearly tracing the arc of his pass. The football sailed slowly across the sky, hurtling toward Crabtree, and everything else in the world faded away.

Ryan’s heart hammered in his chest—THUMP-THUMP—rising slowly, slowly along with the football’s flight path, until it was nearly lodged in his throat. And then—

“Touchdown!”

Ryan roared, completely losing himself in the moment, but the pent-up emotions in his chest still hadn’t been fully released. He shot his fist into the air, leaped to his feet, and with bloodshot eyes and bulging veins, screamed wildly at everyone in sight, “Touchdown! Touchdown!”

‘It’s a touchdown!’ He was certain of it. ‘It’s definitely a touchdown!’

His excitement and exhilaration instantly peaked. Every cell in his body felt like it was exploding.

It had been too long. It really had. Not just for a victory, but for this kind of resilience, this explosive power. Even with their backs against the wall, that indomitable fighting spirit had erupted, stunning their opponent, clinching the game, and seizing a magnificent victory!

Caught off guard, his vision blurred. Hot tears streamed down his face, nearly scalding his cheeks, but Ryan didn’t seem to notice. He just kept roaring, lost in the moment, proclaiming the result of the game to everyone around him. “Touchdown! Touchdown! Touchdown!”

It was just that one simple word, unadorned and without frills, yet it was a cathartic release for every thought buried deep inside him. It declared that the game—with all its endless twists and turns—was finally over. And it had ended in the most satisfying way possible for the home fans. They had seized this victory and held it tight!

Touchdown!

In that moment, Ryan forgot his amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, forgot his pain and his troubles. Even though his legs were trembling, the muscles unused to standing for so long unable to support his heavy frame, he didn’t care. He just clenched his fists and screamed, and screamed, releasing all his pent-up frustration.

In that moment, Ryan was just an ordinary 49ers fan!

This one ordinary 49ers fan joined the rest of the stadium. The impassioned, fervent roars that had erupted instantly began to merge into a single, unified chant: “Touchdown! Touchdown!”

The sound was overwhelming, earth-shattering, magnificent. They were celebrating the touchdown, but they were also pleading for the referee’s confirmation. ‘No more twists. Please, no more twists.’

Across the entire stadium, only one sound remained: Touchdown!

…

On the field and in the stands, every single eye was fixed on the officiating crew, awaiting the final ruling, awaiting the final outcome. They had endured the constant reversals and wild swings of these last moments, one unexpected turn after another, like a roller coaster that had pushed their hearts beyond their limits. And now?

What would be the result of this touchdown?

The home fans at Candlestick Park, the players from both teams, even the outwardly composed coaches on both sidelines—no one was an exception. The commentators in the broadcast booth had fallen silent.

In an instant, the entire stadium held its breath. It seemed as if even heartbeats had vanished into the thrumming air. All of Candlestick Park was frozen in time.

Under the intense gaze of the entire stadium, the referee on the left side of the end zone could almost feel the crushing weight on his shoulders, making them nearly impossible to lift. But he didn’t waver or hesitate. His eyes remained locked on the action in the end zone. Then, decisively, he blew a long blast on his whistle and threw both hands high into the air, signaling a touchdown.

“AHH!”

One gesture. The simplest of gestures. The entire crowd leaped to their feet as one. The vast sea of red instantly reached a boiling point. A roar like a tidal wave ripped through the air, and the blue sky, the green turf, and the gray stadium were all stained crimson. It was a pure, brilliant red—vivid and cathartic, pouring down until every corner of one’s vision was completely submerged in it.

“AHHHH!”

Ryan could barely stay on his feet; his knees felt as if they could buckle at any second. But he kept shouting, lost in the moment, roaring with all his might until he was one with the sound of Candlestick Park. He turned his head and saw the section of fans with Asian faces beside him. Their immense roar was so familiar, so welcoming, that he couldn’t help but lose himself in it.

A volcanic eruption. This was a true volcanic eruption. Red lava was everywhere, waves of searing heat rolled forth, and even the ground beneath their feet began to tremble.

In the distance, the Fierce Waves of the Bay Area began to bare their fangs, crashing against the endless coastline, wave after wave. It was like a tectonic shift, pushing the American continent across the vast ocean in search of the European and African Continents on the other side.

The inconceivable noise completely drowned out the commentators. Even as Troy Ball screamed himself hoarse, his voice was like a tiny sapling in a hurricane, swallowed in an instant. His mind went blank, and he just kept repeating the same words, “Touchdown! It’s a touchdown! Crabtree! Crabtree! A touchdown, folks, a successful touchdown!”

The radio signal carried Troy’s faint voice to every corner of California. Then, the sounds of car horns, cheers, running feet, and roaring voices began to spread like wildfire. This was the true volcanic eruption.

…

The moment the whistle blew, Crabtree tossed the football high into the sky. All his teammates rushed over, swarming him, smacking his helmet wildly as they unleashed their joy.

Today, Crabtree, plagued by penalties, had missed several chances to end the game earlier. But in the end, he seized his opportunity, making a priceless catch at the most critical moment. For the first time since “the catch” that defeated the Dallas Cowboys in Week 2, he had delivered the game-winning play.

Crabtree forcefully pushed his teammates away—all of them—and then ran with light, powerful steps toward his left. His target was clear: Lu Ke.

Tightly, Crabtree hugged Lu Ke. A thousand words swirled on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t find the right way to say them. In the end, he couldn’t speak at all. He just patted Lu Ke’s helmet with deep emotion, once, then again. His heart was a storm of emotions that wouldn’t subside. Nothing needed to be said.

At some point, the individual roars faded away. Above Candlestick Park, the sound had gone from utter silence to utter pandemonium, and now to an utterly unified chant. Only one sound echoed, long and lingering:

Touchdown!