ESPN commentator Pash was searching for his jaw as pieces of his glasses scattered across the table.
It goes without saying that Adrian Peterson of the NFL Minnesota Vikings, a running back, is exceptional. Though he hasn't retired, he had already secured a spot in the Hall of Fame and even possessed the qualifications to compete for the title of greatest running back in history.
There are running backs with different styles and types, but Peterson belongs to one category:
Sudden bursts and sharp changes of direction.
This was Peterson's forte; he excelled at using his explosiveness and agility in tight spaces to shake off defenders, create mismatches, and then break away to regain ground.
Peterson was not afraid of confrontation, nor did he fear gang-tackling.
His ability to stay calm amidst tight defenses, meticulously interpret the situation, and find a route to tear through the defense ranked among the very best in NFL history.
He was a player who perfectly combined personal talent and game intelligence, and his 2012 regular season MVP was well-deserved.
This was also why people were willing to consider Peterson among the greatest running backs in history—he could change the game without needing the offensive line's protection.
Once in a decade, or even once in half a century.
Until now, the league had seen many rookies modeled after Peterson, but none had reached his height.
And now?
Pash doubted his eyes; he really didn't want to jump to conclusions too hastily, but this number twenty-three, seemed to possibly…
Really feel a bit like Peterson.
A dodge, a shake, a twist.
Such complex and advanced technical moves, yet Li Wei executed them fluidly, not only shaking off Foster's grasp but also creating a gap, and finally using that lineman as a shield to block the approaching defensive line players.
Done in one go!
Then, he burst forward.
His steps moved forward along the left side, but he had only taken one step before he changed direction—
One dive.
Two dives.
Three dives.
It was at that moment, Li Wei shook off tackles coming from the front-left diagonal, back-left diagonal, and back-right diagonal.
The pairs of arms, like ghosts from hell, lunged at Li Wei, but were shaken off by his quick double change of direction, missing entirely.
However.
Thump.
Fourth dive—
In the midst of concentrated gang-tackling, Li Wei's space was ultimately too limited, and he finally felt a heavy hit to his shoulder.
It was Foster.
Foster clenched his teeth, used his left leg for support, forcibly turned and stepped up, spinning incredibly like a ballet dancer, his right hand reaching out to the limit and harshly pulling down.
Caught!
Foster grabbed Li Wei's shoulder, and the explosive power and body weight rapidly dragged Li Wei down, like a falling mountain.
Ah, ah, ah!
Foster pressed down hard, but during the sinking, felt the shoulder in his palm suddenly accelerate downwards, ducking down, somehow slipping out of Foster's grip.
Foster quickly changed his grip to a claw, trying to catch Li Wei.
But he was a step too late.
Uh.
Li Wei grunted, feeling the heavy pressure on his shoulder, his balance was disrupted, and his knees buckled, nearly causing him to fall as Foster's lethal dive was forceful and fierce, leaving no room for breath.
In a rush, Li Wei ducked, moving faster than Foster's descent, forcibly shaking off the oppressive force of Foster's strength and weight.
Stumbling. Jostling.
Li Wei was almost tipped over—
Left hand, supporting.
Touching the ground, force surged through his wrist like a tide, sending waves of shock, but Li Wei clenched his teeth, his core strength in his waist and abdomen keeping him supported.
It wasn't over.
It wasn't over!
Li Wei persisted by sheer will.
He hadn't forgotten Clark's words, the rules of football state that falling or touching the ground does not constitute a dead ball; only when the knee touches the ground does it count, so just touching the ground with one hand, as long as the player can stand up again, he can continue to carry the ball onwards.
Of course, specific situations are judged specifically, depending on the referee's call, but this is indeed what the rulebook stipulates.
So, the advance wasn't over.
Through a series of jolts and impacts, every organ and muscle in his body exploded, but Li Wei didn't give up, his fighting spirit blazing fiercely.
With a surge of core strength from his waist and abdomen, Li Wei rose to his feet like a webley wobble, not yet balanced when the overwhelming pressure of the air already surrounded him.
The wind howled coldly over the waters.
It was as if he could hear Beteman's shouts ringing in his ears.
"Run! Li Wei, run!"
The world slowed down.
Amidst the turbulence, Li Wei, tugging at his unstable center of gravity, leaned forward, driving his footsteps to reflexively stomp forward.
Stomp.
Push off.
Stomp.
Exert force.
Stomp.
Run.
One step, then another, he burst into a run like Gump finally freed from his braces, his shaky, stumbling gait giving way to arms wide open, embracing freedom.
Dodging left, he missed the figure lunging from the left.
Pausing right, he felt a gust of wind slap against his cheek.
Lunging forward, his feet were reactivated.
Just as he entered the acceleration phase, he heard and saw Safety Robinson tackling him head-on.
At that moment, Li Wei still hadn't stabilized his center of gravity and couldn't muster the strength to counter, so he simply took a step forward, slightly distancing himself from the entanglement behind, then stopped in front of Robinson—
Dodge left.
Swing right.
The center of gravity, continuously shifting amidst the turbulence, confused Robinson's judgment.
Robinson moved forward while swaying and then, seizing the right moment, lunged.
Right side!
That meant Li Wei's left side, but Li Wei merely paused on the left just as Robinson launched, then his feet shifted, and he surged toward the right.
Change direction!
The split-second ability to change direction, the ultimate control of tightly tensed muscles, utterly outmaneuvered Robinson, creating a misalignment.
Calm. Composed. Alert.
And with that, Li Wei had already shaken off Robinson.
"God!"
Pash was left speechless.
"Robinson has missed!"
"Robinson's sure tackle astonishingly missed, as number twenty-three used a pendulum-like maneuver to shake off Robinson's grab."
"Alert! Red Team's alert."
"Foster, Foster is still not giving up, miraculously catching up even after losing balance, charging towards Li Wei's back."
Wave after wave.
A continuous onslaught.
The assault from the Defensive group never ceased.
"Oh!"
"Jesus Christ!"
"Foster's full body weight crashed into number twenty-three's back, Foster went all in, clenching his teeth and making a desperate attempt to stop number twenty-three."
"It was a collision, akin to that of a freight truck."
"Number twenty-three was sent flying."
"God!"
Pash himself didn't realize it, but his heart had surreptitiously risen, bit by bit, then stuck in his throat, nearly breathless.
Unconsciously, his butt had left the chair, slowly standing up, following the actions of number twenty-three on the field, his blood racing wildly.
"Wait!"
"Wait, number twenty-three is surging forward, he hasn't given up, he still hasn't given up, he's turning Foster's collision force into propelling force."
"Incredibly, what am I witnessing? God, Peterson, I'm at Bryant Denny Stadium witnessing a Peterson-like miracle once again."
"Number twenty-three is up, his speed is picking up, amidst the instability and chaos, the speed that had been impossible to activate suddenly sprang to life, number twenty-three is running."
"Unbelievable!"