American Football: Domination

Competitive. Tenacious. Determined.

These traits ran in Lance's blood. Otherwise, he wouldn't have joined the NFL. Challenging and defeating the league's best wasn't just the most exciting part of competitive sports—it was even more exhilarating than winning championships.

"The thing is, everyone is unique. Everyone has their own beliefs, their own battles."

"We can't win every battle. There are no invincible champions in sports. Winning is important, yes, but what's more important is overcoming losses, shedding that shadow, and emerging stronger."

"Right now, I don't see myself as irreplaceable. I haven't reached the top yet."

"In fact, realizing that excites me."

"I know I'm charting a path into uncharted territory. Everything is new, everything is unfamiliar, and I think that's a good thing."

"I want people to see that if I can do it, they can, too. They should follow my lead and join the party. At the same time, I want to keep pushing forward, exploring, and challenging myself. I want to see how far I can go, to find my ceiling."

"This is just the beginning."

"I believe I have so much room to grow. So, I should stay humble."

Lance ended with a sunny smile, a gesture of his modesty.

Stanley blinked, momentarily stunned. Was this supposed to be humility?

Currently, Lance led the league in rushing yards and rushing touchdowns and was on the verge of shattering several rookie records in the Super Bowl era. Every step he took was legendary—he was already on the path to being considered one of the greatest.

Yet, Lance claimed he still had "so much room to grow"?

So where exactly did he plan to grow? To the moon?

Stanley couldn't help but laugh at the irony and sought confirmation. "You believe you still have room to grow—vast room to grow."

Stanley deliberately emphasized the adjective.

Lance's grin widened. "Of course."

The response was crisp, decisive, and brimming with confidence.

With training models like those of Peterson, Lance was still exploring. As his game experience grew, his perspective on those simulations would evolve. He still had much to learn.

The Tomlinson training model? Lance had barely scratched the surface after two weeks. For the first time, he truly felt that there weren't enough hours in the day. He was determined to make the most of his time to train effectively.

If Lance's teammates on the Kansas City Chiefs knew what was running through his mind, they'd likely describe him with one word: beast.

Stanley, standing before him, had a similar thought—

Monster.

Though not a literal beast, Lance wasn't far off.

The entire league was already in awe of his performances, yet the man himself still carried an eager, humble, and hungry attitude. It was almost more terrifying than a horror story.

Now, Stanley understood Donald's description of Lance as a dreamer, as well as Lance's self-description as a trailblazer.

Lance dared to dream and dared to act on those dreams. His outsider perspective broke down conventional boundaries, exposing a blank canvas of possibilities. He was starting fresh, with no baggage or preconceived notions, painting his own unprecedented masterpiece.

Suddenly, Stanley found himself wondering—

Did Nike see this same quality in Lance? Was that what prompted them to take such a bold risk and offer an extraordinary contract?

Pepsi's strategy for the football market mirrored its approach to soccer: stack the roster with superstars. If ten weren't enough, then add twenty. The blinding light of a galaxy of stars would surely grab attention.

Lance?

He was just another badge to add to Pepsi's grand blueprint—a piece of their massive collection. That's why Stanley hadn't refuted Donald earlier when he pointed this out.

But now, a bold idea began to take shape in Stanley's mind.

What if—just hypothetically—Pepsi took the same leap Nike did when they went all-in on Michael Jordan to revolutionize the basketball market? What if Pepsi placed all its chips on Lance?

The idea was audacious, even borderline reckless, because it would upend their entire market strategy. It wasn't something Stanley could decide on a whim. He'd need to take it back to headquarters for serious discussions and approvals. He was, after all, just a cog in the corporate machine, not someone with the authority to make such a sweeping decision.

But once the seed was planted, it began to grow wildly, taking root and spreading.

The logic was clear—

Football had far more players than soccer, making it harder for Pepsi to collect stars as easily as they did in soccer. Moreover, football's diverse and complex positions meant they couldn't build a "Dream Team" by signing a full lineup of players. Football and soccer were fundamentally different.

What if they concentrated all their resources on a single player?

They wouldn't be the first to take such a risk—Nike had already paved the way, achieving monumental success. Pepsi could replicate that success.

By doing so, Pepsi wouldn't need to spread its resources too thin across multiple players. Instead, they could focus entirely on one central figure, building their campaign around that single core. It could be a groundbreaking strategy, offering a new path forward.

Stanley's heart began to race. His mind flooded with possibilities, as if he stood at a crossroads in history. His next step could open a whole new chapter. Every cell in his body buzzed with excitement, adrenaline surging as his thoughts roared like a tidal wave.

Maybe he should seize this opportunity.

Looking up, Stanley didn't turn to Donald. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Lance, studying his young face. His fingers curled tightly into a fist.

A running back? A rookie?

Even betting everything on a quarterback would be considered a foolish gamble in the world of football—let alone a running back.

But wasn't that the point of taking risks?

Rational thought and careful analysis could lead to bold, even shocking decisions. Success in uncharted territory often required that leap of faith.

Pepsi had spent the last ten years meticulously planning its strategy. Their goal wasn't just to outshine Coca-Cola but to completely reshape the global market and redefine their brand.

Could Lance be the key?

If the answer was yes...

A surge of confidence washed over Stanley. He made an important decision.

Then, Stanley turned to Donald with a self-assured smile.

"Four million dollars per year, five years."

The offer was final, a declaration of intent.

Stanley was certain Donald wouldn't refuse. This was the maximum authority Pepsi had granted him for negotiations. He didn't hold back, and he didn't hesitate. He went all in.

But to his surprise, Donald gently shook his head. His tone was calm yet firm, leaving no room for debate.

"No, Jerry, we can't accept that offer."

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Powerstones?

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