Chapter 327 325: Smooth Sailing

"One more! One more! One more!"

The chants gradually merged into one. Before their eyes, the sea of red bubbled and boiled without end, as if the entire world had reached its boiling point—even the air felt scalding hot against the skin.

It was already October, and autumn in San Francisco brought with it a hint of chill, the damp air carried on the sea breeze making one shiver uncontrollably. But today, Candlestick Park felt like the height of summer. A scorching heat surged relentlessly, setting the world ablaze with a momentum that suggested a single spark could start a prairie fire.

The immense roar of the crowd echoed ceaselessly throughout Candlestick Park, and even Kirk and Teddy, sitting in the commentary booth, could feel the vibrations, making them chuckle in spite of themselves.

"It seems the 49ers fans are hungry for victory today. In less than five minutes, the team has built up a two-touchdown lead, but they're still not satisfied. They're calling for even more touchdowns." Teddy laughed helplessly, and the atmosphere in the booth lightened.

Kirk chuckled as well. "I think it's less about cheering on their own team and more about putting pressure on the visitors. The Tampa Bay Buccaneers are in an incredibly difficult spot right now. Scoring is important, but what's more important is that they find their rhythm—their offensive rhythm, their defensive rhythm. Otherwise, if this keeps up, there's simply no hope in sight."

"You're saying the rest of this first quarter is crucial for the Pirate Team," Teddy confirmed.

Kirk nodded in agreement. "Yes, they need to rediscover their rhythm. Of course, if they can score and halt the 49ers' momentum, that would be for the best. Josh Freeman, the team needs him to step up now."

Just as Teddy and Kirk said, the cheering from Candlestick Park had become a nightmare for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. They had been hit with a flurry of blows right from the start, leaving them seeing stars. And now they had to endure the palpable malice from the stadium. It was all decidedly unfriendly.

After taking a series of heavy blows since the game began, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers seemed to finally have their fighting spirit ignited. They started to show the toughness and iron will from their previous four games. Back on the field, Josh Freeman led their offense, pushing forward steadily. It was a bit of a struggle, but they ultimately managed to regain some of their form.

Freeman's pass completion rate was a disaster. He was so cautious with his throws, terrified of throwing another interception, that many of his passes were completely off-target, nowhere near any player's running route. He avoided an interception by the defense, but he also avoided a reception by his own offense.

The only saving grace was that running back Lagarette Blount's performance was relatively stable. He wasn't getting huge gains, but he consistently managed to pick up yards at critical moments, carrying the Pirate Team's entire offense forward on his back.

They barely managed three third-down conversions, and also successfully got a first down twice on second down. Stumbling and struggling, the Pirate Team made it to the 49ers' 26-yard line, seeing a glimmer of hope. But unfortunately, after entering the heavily defended area, the Pirate Team seemed to lose their aim again—

One incomplete pass, one run for a loss of yards, and then faced with a difficult third-and-thirteen. With another wildly inaccurate pass, Freeman threw the football straight out of bounds, with no player even in the vicinity of the route. And so, the Pirate Team struck out.

However, this time they were in range to attempt a field goal.

It was a 46-yard field goal. Not an easy one.

In field goal kicking, anything under 40 yards can be called a short-yardage field goal, which usually has a high success rate. But for field goals over 40 yards, the success rate drops sharply. Anything over 45 yards is basically considered a long-yardage field goal.

As for the 51-yard game-winning field goal by the Philadelphia Eagles in the final moments last week, in the entire Alliance, any field goal over 50 yards is a gamble.

So, how is the 46-yard distance calculated? The math for a field goal isn't actually that complicated.

The line of scrimmage was the 29-yard line after they lost yards on second down. For a field goal, you add 17 more yards to that, which is how you get 46.

Of those 17 yards, 10 are for the depth of the End Zone, because the goalposts are at the very back of it. The other 7 yards are the distance between the holder and the center.

For a field goal, the center and the special teams offensive line snap the ball from the line of scrimmage—in the Pirate Team's case, the 29-yard line. But to give the kicker enough space and prevent the opposing special teams from blocking the kick, there needs to be some distance between the holder and the center. Generally, this distance is 7 yards.

However, that "seven yards" isn't set in stone.

It can vary slightly based on the kicker's height, habits, and style. The coordination between the kicker and the holder, and between the holder and the center, is absolutely critical. That classic "botched hold" by the Dallas Cowboys' Tony Romo happened when Romo, serving as the holder, made a mistake.

In the Alliance, some kickers prefer a distance of eight yards instead of seven. This is because their kicking trajectory is lower, making it easier to block. They need more space to let the football get fully airborne and clear the opposing special teamers. In that case, the field goal distance would be the line of scrimmage plus 18 yards.

The Tampa Bay Buccaneers were now facing a 46-yard field goal.

Connor Barth, an undrafted rookie in 2008, had a career-long of a 57-yard field goal. He was now the kicker for the Pirate Team, but under pressure, Barth actually... missed.

"Oh, he missed! Connor Barth actually missed!" Finding the situation utterly absurd, Teddy couldn't help but chuckle, barely believing his eyes. "The Pirate Team was finally showing some signs of life, and then the most reliable part of their game fails them on this field goal. The first quarter is almost over, and the Pirate Team still hasn't managed to score. Good Lord!"

"This is just terrible. Barth, who hit a game-winning field goal just last week, shanked this one under the immense pressure of the 49ers' home crowd," Kirk said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry amidst the boos and noise at Candlestick Park.

Watching Barth hold his head in frustration, Kirk couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. "Things couldn't get any worse for the Pirate Team right now. Offense, defense, and special teams are all in a slump. And for Barth to miss a makeable 46-yard field goal... Head coach Raheem Morris has to find a way to get his team to pull themselves together."

...

"Focus up, guys! Focus up!" Craig Roman snapped his fingers repeatedly, getting all the offensive players to concentrate. "They missed the field goal. That's their problem, not ours. We need to stay focused and get ready for the next drive! Got it?"

Craig's gaze finally landed on Lu Ke.

Lu Ke let out a long breath and then nodded firmly, showing that he had calmed down.

The game today had been going almost too smoothly. Even Lu Ke couldn't help but get a little carried away.

Four weeks into the regular season, the San Francisco 49ers had never had a game go this smoothly. In the first week against the Seattle Seahawks, the final score looked like a blowout, but the game itself had been a nail-biter. Today, however, everything seemed to be under the 49ers' control. Even Connor Barth had missed a field goal he should have made. Amidst the celebration, it was easy to start getting complacent.

Offensive coordinator Craig had noticed the team's budding arrogance and reminded Lu Ke, which made Lu Ke recall last week's game. In the first half, the San Francisco 49ers had been overconfident and underestimated their opponent, throwing their rhythm completely off. Right now, Lu Ke was in no position to be complacent, and neither was the team.

After Craig finished laying out the play, he left the floor to Lu Ke.

Lu Ke thought for a moment, then, instead of speaking, he pointed to his ear, signaling for everyone to listen. As they fell silent and focused, they could easily pick up the unified chant, "One more! One more! One more!" It came in wave after wave, crashing over them like Fierce Waves, one after another.

Bright smiles appeared on every player's face, their eyes shining with excitement. Then Lu Ke extended his right hand and placed it in the center. "I'm ready."

No more motivational speeches were needed, no more pep talks to stir their fighting spirit. Just the sound of that chant, surging and swelling throughout the stadium, was enough to make their blood boil and have them itching to get on the field, start the drive, and reap another touchdown.

Ted Ginn Jr. was the first to thrust his right hand out, placing it on top of Lu Ke's. "Heh heh, think it's my turn for the next one? I'm ready."

"What about me? Me?" Kyle Williams eagerly jumped in. Then Crabtree, Newman, and the others all scrambled to put their hands in, clamoring over one another and creating a lively scene.

Lu Ke didn't interrupt them, meeting their gazes with a wide smile. "Alright then, let's go get some touchdowns! On three, we yell 'Touchdown'!"

"One, two, three!"

"TOUCHDOWN!"

When an offensive team attempts a field goal and misses, the rules state that if the miss is from inside the 20-yard line, the opposing team automatically takes over at the 20-yard line. If the miss is from outside the 20-yard line, the opposing team takes over from the spot of the kick. Additionally, if the missed field goal lands in the field of play without entering the End Zone, an opposing player can catch it and begin a return. This is why teams in the Alliance generally don't attempt field goals of over 55 yards.

The Pirate Team's field goal attempt just now sailed wide and went past the end line. Therefore, the San Francisco 49ers would start their next drive from the spot of the kick, which was their own 29-yard line.

There were now less than four minutes left in the first quarter. The Tampa Bay Buccaneers' last drive had been a long one, lasting over six minutes, but it had ended with no points. This was a devastating blow for the Pirate Team. Now, the performance of their defense would decide the team's fate.

Michael Bennett felt like the pressure was about to crush his shoulders.