A Game

Whether it's a running back or a quarterback, their standout performance always depends on a solid offensive line.

In football, the offensive line's job is to protect and clear paths. Their blocking and shielding stop the first wave of the opponent's defense, giving the running back and quarterback opportunities.

So, when evaluating the performance of running backs and quarterbacks, you always have to consider the offensive line:

If they have a top-tier offensive line, a running back or quarterback who usually performs at 60% can easily look like they're performing at 80%. It's not surprising, and you'd need to take the offensive line's contribution into account.

On the other hand, if the offensive line is full of holes, and the running back or quarterback still manages to perform at 80%, that's almost a miracle. It means they're carrying the entire offense on their back.

The Crimson Tide boasts a solid offensive line. Maybe not the best, but certainly in the top tier of the NCAA. This is one reason the team's running backs often find room to run.

And now was one of those times.

Bateman called the play, with the plan being for the running back to break through the middle, pushing through the heart of the defense. On their own, a running back's brute strength wouldn't get far. Without the offensive line to block and shield, it would quickly turn into a battle of bodies, with the running back swallowed by the defense. But the running back needed the offensive line to clear the way.

And the Crimson Tide's offensive line delivered—

With a grunt, the five offensive linemen pushed as if opening a door weighing a thousand pounds, spreading out left and right to force the defense to split.

A narrow, straight path opened up before Lance.

Without hesitation, Lance planted his foot, instantly accelerating like a rabbit, and in just two or three steps, he crossed the line of scrimmage.

Whoosh!

Lance took another step, his body angled forward like a bulldozer, bracing himself for the inevitable impact.

In football, the middle is often packed with defenders. A running back going through the middle has to rely on strength and power to force their way through. It's an approach that, while clumsy, can be highly effective—especially when it's about gaining just a yard or two, often referred to as "plowing a yard," like a pig rooting through cabbages.

Lance wasn't a power back. His usual route took him along the wings, using his vision and explosive speed to find gaps. But this time, he was defying expectations, aiming to break through the middle.

From the start, the goal was clear—

They weren't greedy. Just two yards. As long as he could gain those two yards for a first down, they could continue advancing, step by step, solid and steady.

Keep it simple.

So, Lance was prepared.

He knew that power wasn't his strong suit, so he bent low, hunched his shoulders, and braced himself to absorb the impact. As he crossed the line of scrimmage, he kept moving forward.

One yard.

Two yards.

In an instant, the two yards were gained.

Clearly, the Red Team's defense had misread the White Team's intentions.

The White Team had been aggressive throughout the game, and Lance had been running all over the field, making plays everywhere. But this time, they chose to play it safe. After a well-executed play-action pass that gained good yardage, the White Team's offense had established a rhythm. Allen and Foster had misjudged the situation, failing to cover the middle in time.

First down, achieved.

But there was an opportunity here.

Lance hadn't felt the expected hard hit or brutal tackle. Sensing a chance, he kept his body low and compact, digging in and using the energy in his legs to push forward.

Bang!

Just half a step into his push, the narrow gap quickly closed. Lance crashed into a wall of defenders, as expected.

This was the risk of running up the middle. Even if the defense misread the play, they could still close in quickly, especially since the Crimson Tide's defense featured four linebackers, making the wall of bodies particularly dense.

Lance had been ready for this. That's why he hadn't bothered to look up yet.

Collision!

Plant!

Explode!

Lance, like an armored beast, angled his body and drove his shoulder into the defenders, pushing upward. He unleashed all his energy in one direct hit.

"Strength versus strength."

Agh! Aghhh!

"Head-to-head collision."

Boom!

A thunderous impact rang in his ears. Lance could feel the defenders' weight buckle and fall back under the force of his hit. The reverberating shock rattled his insides, but the energy deep within his core kept burning, fueling him to keep pushing.

An unexpected moment. A mismatch. A forced breakthrough.

The battle between offense and defense was already decided in that brief moment. However, Lance's offensive play wasn't over yet—

They had secured the first down. From this point on, any yardage gained was a bonus.

With his left foot planted firmly, Lance used the momentum from the impact, pushing off the defenders to execute a counterclockwise spin. The force of the defenders' blow was redirected, allowing him to throw off their grip.

Finally, he lifted his head, taking in the chaotic scene ahead.

A quick glance.

It only took a fraction of a second for Lance to assess the field. Red jerseys flashed before his eyes—he couldn't see their faces, but he could track the movement of the red blurs, mapping out the defensive flow in his mind.

To the right, Foster was closing in.

Ahead on the left, another linebacker was cutting across.

Behind him to the right, a defensive lineman was turning to chase.

Behind him to the left, the linebacker Lance had just hit was still grabbing at him, even risking a holding penalty to slow him down.

Directly ahead, two safeties were converging, with Harrison leading the charge.

From behind, though out of sight, Lance could feel the heat and pressure of defenders crashing toward him like a tidal wave, the intensity palpable on his skin.

He was surrounded. There was no escape.

But Lance wasn't surprised. This was the situation any running back would face when charging up the middle.

So what would NFL legend Adrian Peterson do?

After three weeks of training in a star athlete's simulation program, Lance remained calm. In the blink of an eye, he analyzed the situation and made a decision—

The first down was secured, so now, why not let them have a little fun?

A smile crept onto Lance's face.

He could taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue, his adrenaline spiking through his veins. The game was on.

In just a single breath—before he even had time to exhale—Lance already had his next move mapped out.

One step forward. It wasn't just any step; he shifted left, circled around, then moved right, like a graceful waltz. He dodged the linebacker to his left and skirted past Foster to his right, slipping behind the linebacker he had just collided with.

One spin.

He used that poor linebacker as a post to pivot around. Just a moment ago, Lance had been in front of him. Now, after dodging Foster's dive, he was behind him.

It looked simple, but it was intricate.

It seemed flashy, but it was efficient.

Foster's eyes widened behind his helmet, almost popping out—

Wh-what just happened?

He hadn't expected Lance to break through the middle, much less use such advanced footwork. Lance had played the two linebackers like fools.

ESPN commentator Dave Pasch summed it up perfectly:

"Adrian Peterson!"