American Football: Domination

Roar! Howl!

A cacophony of wild, animalistic shouts erupted as a group of overly enthusiastic young men stirred up a ruckus, and the atmosphere on the field instantly became chaotic and boisterous.

Burns felt a pang of concern for Lance. What if he scared him off again? He quickly turned to check on Lance, only to find that instead of looking nervous or unsettled, Lance's eyes were alight with eager anticipation.

"Coach, how exactly are we doing this tryout?"

Afraid? No way!

Challenging oneself, challenging opponents, pushing limits—that's the essence of competitive sports. Whether in the past or now, Lance had always thrived on challenges, constantly surpassing himself and breaking his own limits, reveling in the brilliance of life.

Moreover, passing this tryout would not only resolve the lawsuit issue but also unlock a special starter pack.

Seeing the confident and cocky attitudes of the other players, Lance was itching for them to be even more arrogant, to underestimate him even more. That way, the satisfaction of proving them wrong would be all the sweeter.

He was more than a little excited.

Burns looked at Lance, realizing he was now in the tricky position of having to explain the basics of football to someone who knew absolutely nothing about it. For someone like Burns, who had spent most of his life immersed in the football world, everything was second nature. But now, he had to break it all down for a complete novice, and he wasn't quite sure where to start.

After thinking for a moment, he began.

"You've watched soccer and basketball, right?"

"Their goal is to move the ball across the field and score by getting it into the net or through the hoop. Football is similar."

"Our goal is to move the ball down the field and get it into the end zone—oh, that's the end zone over there. As long as you carry the ball across the end zone line, you score. We call that a touchdown."

The rules, of course, are much more detailed, but the essence of the game is just that.

Following Burns' gesture, the vast field stretched out before Lance—

The field is 100 yards long and 53 yards wide (a yard equals 0.9144 meters).

At each end of the field is an end zone, 10 yards long and 53 yards wide.

So, like soccer, the goal of football is to carry the ball across the entire field and cross the end zone line to score. It didn't seem too complicated.

But.

Looking at the football in his hand, Lance's eyes showed a hint of confusion. "How am I supposed to move the ball?"

This dark brown ball was oval-shaped, neither suitable for dribbling like a basketball nor rolling like a soccer ball. What was he supposed to do with it? Not knowing, Lance asked directly, looking at Burns for an explanation.

Burns: …"You've really never watched a football game before?"

Lance, "Nope."

Burns chuckled, "You carry it. You don't need to dribble it like a basketball or roll it like a soccer ball. Just hold it in your hands."

"In football, there are two main ways to advance the ball."

"First, running the ball, which is your job. You carry the ball forward until you're stopped by the opposing players. When your knee touches the ground, that's where the play ends."

"And one very, very important thing—don't drop the ball. In football, if the ball comes loose, you lose possession, and whoever recovers it gets control."

"Second, passing the ball, which is the quarterback's job. The quarterback can throw the ball to any position on the field. As long as one of our players catches it before it hits the ground, the play continues. Similarly, if your knee touches the ground or you drop the ball, the play ends there."

Simple, straightforward.

In just a few sentences, Burns laid out the basic framework.

Although Lance couldn't yet picture exactly how a football game played out, the basic rules weren't hard to grasp. He had many questions swirling in his mind, but there was no rush—he could delve deeper into the details later.

Understanding the look in Burns' eyes, Lance quickly caught on. "So, football is a strategic battle of offense and defense. One side tries to advance the ball, while the other tries to stop them, right?"

Burns' eyes lit up. "Exactly! So, in soccer and basketball, you have the same players on the field for offense and defense, with constant transitions. But football is a turn-based, positional battle. We have an offense team and a defense team, plus a special teams unit for specific situations."

"Each unit has eleven players, and unlike soccer or basketball, we can swap players between plays without any limit on substitutions."

"Our offense goes up against their defense until the play ends—either we score or get stopped. Then we switch sides; our defense goes up against their offense, and a new round begins. It keeps rotating like that."

Without meaning to, Burns found himself rambling on, getting carried away.

But he caught himself—

No need to rush; the specific rules and details could be explained gradually.

Burns took a deep breath, offering a kindly smile. "Any other questions?"

That smile reminded Lance of the Big Bad Wolf trying to conceal his fangs while grinning at Little Red Riding Hood. Amused, Lance couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah, I've got one."

Lance looked at the encouraging Burns.

"Whether it's passing or running, it's all done with your hands. So why is it called 'football'?"

Burns: …

Burns blinked, momentarily stumped by the question. But Lance didn't linger on it. He turned and jogged onto the field.

Pfft.

Burns could hear a chuckle. Turning around, he saw Saban smiling. The honest man didn't seem to mind that he'd just been playfully tricked a little. "Coach, what do you think of him?"

The corners of Saban's mouth curved slightly upward. "A little bit promising."

On the field, the players had cleared out, leaving only Lance and four others, making the vast space feel empty and a bit foreboding.

It was now clear why a football team needed to be so large. With separate units for offense, defense, and special teams, the team's size dwarfed that of basketball teams—and even soccer teams.

In the professional NFL, teams are allowed 53 players, while the NCAA permits 85, with the number sometimes reaching 105 under certain conditions.

No wonder! Now, with the field cleared, only five players remained, including Lance, making the vast field seem almost deserted.

So.

If Lance was part of the offense, then these four must be members of the defense?

Compared to basketball, the scene before him resembled soccer more, not just in the field's layout but in how the four players were spread out.

The four defenders were arranged in a staggered formation, covering different positions from near to far.

Lance guessed that these positions indicated different roles—those farther back likely focused on defending against passes, while those up front were more concerned with stopping the run.

Moreover, since this was clearly a test of Lance's rushing ability, the four defenders didn't spread out too much, instead keeping a close eye on Lance, each one looking predatory.

Lance remained calm, loosening his wrists and ankles just as he would before a cross-country race. His first instinct was to assess the space and identify obstacles.

The big guy at the front, already smirking, walked over with a sneer. "Hey, kid, are you sure that gear's enough? Don't you want to put on some armor? You might not hold up and fall apart."