A Game of Inches

"Defense!"

"Defense!"

The synchronized chants echoed through Arrowhead Stadium, rolling like waves of heat through the tense air.

The Philadelphia Eagles' offense had finally executed Pederson's desired strategy—finally!

On this drive, Wentz displayed top-tier form. Across nine plays, consuming four minutes and thirty-seven seconds, he led the offense 65 yards downfield. Unstoppable, they marched into the Chiefs' red zone, where the end zone loomed just within reach. The battle had entered its most intense phase.

Last season, the Chiefs' defense had repeatedly shown its strength in the red zone, becoming the foundation of the team's victories.

In the season opener against the Patriots, however, the defense only found its groove in the fourth quarter, shutting down Brady just in time. Today was similar—Wentz had found his rhythm, and the Chiefs' defense was scrambling. Only now, in the red zone, did their defensive pressure finally ramp up.

Twice, the Chiefs had denied the Eagles' attempts at a touchdown. Now, it was third-and-five.

One side, determined to score.

The other, refusing to break.

The collision of wills reached its peak.

Chiefs' safety Eric Berry roamed near the end zone boundary.

In most situations, safeties need to cover the entire backfield, requiring awareness and agility—especially in today's pass-heavy NFL, where safeties often determine a defense's ceiling. But in the red zone, the smaller field of play often diminishes their role.

However, as a veteran, Berry had a different perspective.

True, cornerbacks and linebackers had clear man-to-man assignments in the red zone. But it was a safety's ability to read the field and anticipate plays that often defined a defense's strength.

Berry's eyes locked onto Wentz.

For years, critics had attacked Reid for his pass-heavy playcalling, accusing him of neglecting the ground game. Pederson, Reid's protégé, had inherited his mentor's system—and, if anything, leaned even more heavily on the pass.

This drive was the perfect example: nine straight pass attempts.

Running back LeGarrette Blount, last season's NFL rushing yards leader, had joined the Eagles from the Patriots, expected to be a pillar of their offense alongside second-year QB Wentz. Yet here he was, untouched and unused.

Blount: What's going on here?

This, too, was a mind game—

Would Pederson stick to his guns and call another pass play? Or would he throw the Chiefs off with a surprise run?

Surely, Pederson wouldn't be that stubborn, would he?

Even Reid, with his love for the pass, still used the run game to balance the offense. Pederson couldn't possibly call another pass in the red zone, right? Wentz wasn't Peyton Manning!

In the red zone, when tight coverage smothers passing targets and passing lanes close quickly, running the ball often becomes the most effective option.

Yet, on first and second downs, Pederson had done just that—kept passing. Even Pash, in the broadcast booth, was stunned.

So, what about third down?

Berry scanned the field, calculating and observing.

Pass? Run?

"Set. Hike!"

...Run? Would Wentz finally hand it off to Blount and let the 247-pound (112 kg) tank bulldoze his way forward?

Berry's pupils shrank, his focus razor-sharp. He locked onto Wentz and Blount's every movement.

Then—

No.

Play-action fake.

Pederson, once again, had doubled down on the passing game.

What a gamble.

As his defensive teammates reacted instantly to the play fake, Berry stayed calm. Watching Wentz's eyes and motion, he read the play, determined where the ball was headed, and made his move.

He launched.

Target: Wide receiver Alshon Jeffery.

Jeffery, the hero of the Eagles' earlier touchdown in the second half, was Wentz's intended target again.

Berry sprinted toward the back-right corner of the end zone, where Jeffery and a Chiefs defender were tangled in a tight battle. Anticipating the ball's trajectory, Berry leaped—

Full extension.

His arm stretched to its limit, fingertips brushing the ball's surface.

He almost had it.

Berry spread his palm, trying to snatch the ball for an interception. But Wentz's pass had an awkward spiral—not cleanly rotating—making it impossible to control with one hand.

Thud.

The ball glanced off Berry's fingers, its arc disrupted, and skidded harmlessly out of bounds.

"Oh, so close!"

"Just inches away! Berry nearly came up with the interception."

"My God, that was nerve-wracking! Pederson's stubborn decision to pass finally hit a wall in the red zone. The Eagles narrowly avoided a turnover and are now three-and-out. So close to the end zone, yet still denied a touchdown."

"Of course, Pederson got lucky—it wasn't intercepted. The Eagles will now attempt a field goal to close the gap, bringing it back to a one-score game."

"This game isn't over. The Chiefs may have controlled the second half so far, but the Eagles are clinging to life on the edge of the cliff."

Berry dropped to a crouch, clutching his helmet in frustration.

The interception had slipped through his fingertips.

A 10-point lead and a 7-point lead are vastly different. The Eagles still had hope—and that was enough to keep them alive.

A game of inches had given Philadelphia a lifeline.

The Chiefs' 2017 season was already proving to be grueling. After a tense showdown with the Patriots in Week 1 that wasn't decided until the fourth quarter, Week 2 was turning into another fight to the finish against the Eagles.

Some might dismiss Berry's near-interception as no big deal—but as Bart would gleefully point out, in sports, the tiniest margins can determine victory or defeat. Missed opportunities always come at a cost, especially in critical moments.

"13–20."

Three minutes and twenty seconds into the fourth quarter, the gap had narrowed.

And the cost of Berry's missed interception became painfully clear almost immediately.

Suddenly, the Chiefs abandoned their balanced attack. Reid shifted to an all-out aerial assault, throwing pass after pass with explosive precision. The drive culminated in a 15-yard strike from Smith to Kelce for a touchdown.

But the Eagles refused to back down.

Wentz, with his back against the wall, shifted into overdrive.

He delivered the most spectacular drive of his young NFL career, leading his offense down the field with pinpoint accuracy and confidence.

"Touchdown!"

"Carson Wentz! Oh my God!"

"What did I just witness?"

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Powerstones?

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