John turned around, frowning at Lu Ke as if he wanted to argue, but under Lu Ke's calm and sincere gaze, he finally gave in. Annoyed and dejected, he just said, "You're crazy."
"Yes, you can say I'm crazy," Lu Ke said, walking over with the football. "I'm crazy—a Chinese kid with yellow skin dreaming of making a name for himself in a sport dominated by white and black players. I'm crazy—getting tossed around like a punching bag every day, yet still giving my all, just hoping not to let my dream down. I'm crazy—eleven years, I've stuck with this for eleven years, and I'm still just a practice player.
"I really am crazy. I'm studying at one of the best universities in the country, and my grades are excellent. You know, Chinese people are a lot smarter than you guys who don't study; school isn't a challenge. I could get a great job after graduation, but instead, I gave up an internship at the 'Los Angeles Times' to willingly be a practice player here.
"So, if you want to call me crazy, I admit it.
"But deep down, have you given up? Aren't you just like me, dreaming of getting back on this field? Didn't you dedicate all your youth to football? Are you really okay with it ending like this? If you are, then just pretend I didn't say anything, and think of me as a crazy person."
With that, Lu Ke didn't pay any more attention to John. He turned and walked toward the field. The equipment for basic training hadn't been packed up yet. Anthony, the coach's assistant, was telling the practice and reserve players to clean up. Lu Ke called out, "Anthony, I'll stay and put all this equipment away. I want to train a little longer."
Anthony was surprised. "This stuff?" The equipment in front of them was for specialized skill training, which the practice players had no need to use. "Are you sure?"
Lu Ke nodded earnestly. "Yes, if it doesn't violate any team rules."
"It doesn't..." Anthony recalled Lu Ke's impressive pass from the day before. Before he could finish his sentence, some of the practice players who were cleaning up started laughing. "That's crazy. A practice player doing extra training. Anyone who didn't know would think he's the starting quarterback."
"No amount of extra practice will help. I've never heard of an Asian person who can play football. It's hilarious. That little body would fly away with a single hit. Hahahaha."
Seven or eight people burst into laughter. Lu Ke was about to retort, but Anthony was faster. "Shut up!"
As the assistant coach, Anthony may have only handled miscellaneous tasks, but in a college coaching staff with only three members—the head coach, offensive coach, and defensive coach—Anthony was the next authority. At his reprimand, everyone fell silent.
"If you're not going to train properly, why are you talking so much about someone who is doing extra work? Or are you planning to stay and train with them? Run 10,000 or 20,000 meters?" Anthony's stern reprimand made the practice squad members look away, muttering resentfully, but they didn't form any coherent words.
Anthony ignored them, thought for a moment, and then nodded in approval. "Once you're done with the equipment, go to the security office and call them. They'll come out and help you." The field required daily maintenance and supervision, so it was staffed by a four-person team responsible for cleaning, organizing, and watching over the field at night.
After a pause, Anthony saw John walking over. "John, are you staying too?"
John awkwardly turned his head and rubbed it. With a subtle nod of his chin, he didn't answer, but his feet remained rooted a short distance behind Lu Ke.
"Keep up the good work! But don't overdo it. Getting injured isn't worth it," Anthony said with concern, then turned and left.
The remaining practice squad members looked at Lu Ke and John, grumbling and complaining. One of them called out, "John, are you sure? You look like you've lost your mind. Want to come with us? Grab a beer at the bar?"
John scratched his head, never making eye contact with them. After two years as a practice player, all his dreams and pride had vanished, and he was afraid to face them again. "Uh, I'm just helping out a little." John nodded, pointing at Lu Ke. "Luke needs some help."
"Alright, it's your choice." The others didn't say anything more. There was no direct competition or personal gain involved within the practice squad, so there were no direct conflicts. It was just a little complaining and teasing. With that, they left the field, laughing and carefree, discussing their plans for the evening.
After a quick glance to confirm that everyone else had left, John finally looked up at Lu Ke. "Okay, let's start. What do you want to do?"
"How about starting with kneeling throws?" Lu Ke took a football from the cart and habitually tossed it between his hands. For ball sports, developing a feel for the ball in both hands is crucial, and there are no shortcuts—only years of consistently touching and catching the ball. It's the only way.
When he turned around, Lu Ke saw John's face full of shock. "Kneeling throws? You... you're really crazy." This was a quarterback warm-up drill, primarily to practice using core and arm strength to throw the ball without relying on lower-body power, and to correct the quarterback's throwing motion.
Lu Ke didn't offer any explanation. Instead, he summoned the system in his mind and started playing the demonstration video for kneeling throws. He then followed the example and knelt on the ground, only to realize John was still standing. Lu Ke gestured with his eyes. "Aren't you going to join me? I'm ready."
Seeing the serious look on Lu Ke's face, John laughed wryly, shook his head, and then knelt down directly across from Lu Ke. Lu Ke warmed up his arms and then threw the football over. John caught it effortlessly. This warm-up drill was second nature to him. He was very familiar with it. John immediately threw the football back.
As they went back and forth, John gradually got his rhythm back and was reminded of his high school days. He couldn't help but tap his own shoulder. "You need to push it out from here. Feel the power being pushed up from the bottom." He even demonstrated, patting his muscles and guiding Lu Ke's movements.
Lu Ke was undeniably a quick learner. He was willing to learn, ask questions, and correct himself. He quickly grasped the technique, and the training became smooth and fluid. They did five sets of twenty throws and catches, discussing, correcting, and practicing. It took a while, but the results were excellent.
Next were quick single-arm throws, followed by throws on the run at a uniform speed, and then quarterback footwork drills.
Before they knew it, an hour had passed. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, John let out a long sigh. He hadn't felt this way in a very long time, maybe not since he started college.
Looking at Lu Ke, who was still focused on his footwork, John stopped what he was doing. "Lu Ke, do you really want to be a quarterback?" As soon as he asked the question, John felt how ridiculous it was. A Chinese guy, a practice player, wanting to become a quarterback—it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard. So, John waved his hand and said with a self-deprecating laugh, "Never mind, you don't have to answer."
"I do, really." Lu Ke's answer stunned John. He stared blankly at him as Lu Ke nodded again, a serious look on his face. "Really, I want to be a quarterback. Did you see 'Inception' this summer? The movie says: 'If you're going to dream, dream big.'" Seeing John's incredulous expression, Lu Ke couldn't help but smile. "What, you don't believe me?"
John shook his head, denying it.
Lu Ke didn't try to argue anymore. Instead, he asked, "If you could choose, what position would you play?"
"Wide receiver." John said it without any hesitation; it just came out. A wide receiver is a player whose primary job on a passing play is to catch the ball. Their difference from a tight end is that their role is relatively simpler: attack, attack, and attack again.
"Then let's give it a try. Maybe you can become a great wide receiver?" Lu Ke walked to the side and stood on the starting line for the 40-yard shuttle run. "40-yard shuttle run?"
John didn't understand. He just looked at Lu Ke, then broke into a helpless smile. Giving up on arguing, he walked over and stood beside Lu Ke, getting into a starting position. When Lu Ke gave the command, they both ran off.
The 40-yard shuttle run is a fundamental drill for wide receivers. It's not as simple as running back and forth between two lines. It starts at a line, you run ten yards and return; then you run twenty yards and return; then you run thirty yards and return. This type of shuttle run is excellent for training sharp turns and stops, and it's a tough test of explosive power and sprinting ability over short distances.
It looks simple but is incredibly difficult. Besides wide receivers, other offensive and defensive players also do this drill, including quarterbacks.
Lu Ke's base stats weren't top-tier: his speed was 65, acceleration was 61, and agility was 70. His catching stats weren't high either, so he wasn't necessarily suited to be a wide receiver. However, his ability to turn and change direction in a small area gave him the quickness to dodge and evade tackles and sacks inside the quarterback's protective pocket. His strength and muscles, however, were not strong enough. He could evade, but he was still too weak to withstand a direct hit.
Once they started running, John gradually realized that Lu Ke was in no way inferior to him.
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