Training is over and night has fallen, but Randy Moss still hasn't left.
Moss is not stupid, on the contrary, he is very smart.
Five games have passed in the regular season, but he has hardly won any performance opportunities; even if he occasionally appears as a rotation player, the number of times he is used as a passing target is really limited. More often, he is just used as a tactical pawn. To contain the running routes of defensive players.
In Moss's words, a straw man. They are placed in rice fields to attract or scare away crows, but have no real effect.
The problem is, he is not a scarecrow, he should not be a scarecrow! He is a warrior, even if he is no longer young, even if he is covered in scars, even if his condition is not what it used to be, he is still a true warrior in his bones and blood. He is eager to fight, thirst for blood, and eager to fight!
He chose to come back again after retiring, not just to be a scarecrow on the bench!
Those dead, inexperienced children, they all thought he was finished, he was finished. They all thought they were great, as if they already owned the whole world, but the one who had truly touched the top of the world was him, and he should be He is right! They should all admire themselves and surrender to themselves, instead of treating themselves as ordinary wide receivers.
Damn God! He's no ordinary wide receiver, he's Randy Moss! The one and only Randy Moss!
Moss knew that he had to stand up, fight for himself, fight for himself, and fight for himself. His glory and medals were not obtained by sitting quietly and waiting silently, but by taking the initiative and experiencing blood and fire. After the test, he used his own injuries and pain to truly win!
So, after today's daily training, Moss left the training base; then secretly came back, waiting in the parking lot, waiting for all the players to leave, and he was ready to have a long talk with Hubble face to face:
He needs to win a place in the locker room, he needs to establish his authority in the team, and he needs to get a chance to prove himself in the game; more importantly, he needs the quarterback to pay attention to his existence, and he needs to win a place in the locker room. The quarterback needs to match his own game, and he needs to win more playing time and receiving opportunities——
He is not some decrepit old man! He is not a rookie who comes and goes when he calls! He is not just a nobody who can be commanded by anyone!
He, Randy Moss, even though he is thirty-two years old, he is still the king of this field!
The waiting time was extremely long and boring, and while he was bored, Moss opened his tablet and started watching the game video.
However, the peaceful moment was broken!
That rookie quarterback with barely a beard actually came over and lectured him on how to run. He was really ignorant. Indeed, he thinks this little guy is quite interesting and has shown some highlights worthy of discussion in the past few weeks, but this does not mean that this young boy can stand in front of him and make bold and arrogant comments.
That guy's words really pissed him off! Never before!
After suppressing and suppressing, waiting and waiting, the other party's interference and questioning finally pulled the trigger, and then, gushing nonstop, Moss was fully fired up, with vulgar and sharp swear words popping out in a steady stream, expressing his inner feelings. All the depression and frustration burst out.
"Really?" Lu Ke said loudly, without any hesitation or fear, he just hit it back straight.
Moss was stunned by such a sentence without beginning or end. He didn't understand what was going on or the origin of the sentence. After a slight pause, he was about to continue cursing when Lu Ke continued He spoke, interrupting his speaking rhythm.
"In 2007, in the ninth week of the regular season, the New England Patriots faced the Indianapolis Colts."
Lu Ke's opening sentence created more question marks. Moss didn't understand what was happening at all, but as the words continued, Moss's memory box was opened bit by bit.
"The second offense in the third quarter, the same inside running route, running from the left to the central area, a short pass of about six to seven yards. Brady kicked off the ball quickly and took a quick shot. At that time, your "The route is less fancy, because you're in a zone with a cornerback and an inside linebacker and a safety rushing to cover, and you get to the position with the playbook route and get the ball."
Similar situations, similar offenses, similar scenes, but completely different results. Once, Moss made the catch; once, Moss missed the catch.
Moss was completely stunned and couldn't believe it: Did Lu Ke do it on purpose or unintentionally? Why does he remember the details and structure of those offenses so clearly?
Just as Moss tried to refute, Lu Ke added, "Do you need me to tell you the names of the cornerbacks, linebackers and safety guards at that time, as well as their running routes?"
Moss shut his mouth. If he continued, he would be humiliating himself.
Lu Ke stood without moving, staring at Moss intently. He did not continue to speak, but allowed the silence to spread slowly.
This made Moss feel uncomfortable, but after calming down for a while, Moss felt angry again, and the angry emotions were boiling. "Fuck!" The foul words popped out again, doubled, tripled, and quadrupled. It burst out with twice the momentum, majestic and majestic, and even had the urge to punch and step forward.
"So, really? Is there really no problem with your running route? Is it true that the route selection in the tactical manual cannot be changed? Is it true that Brady and your connection did not complete the communication in advance? The team's tactics are used late Is it really my problem that I can't find your position? Is the running you insist on really the best option?"
A series of rhetorical questions instantly interrupted Moss's speaking rhythm, leaving him speechless. The nameless fire began to burn blazingly. He just wanted to strangle that guy to death, and use his own hands to strangle that throat fiercely. , cut off all the words, leaving only the only thought in my mind, "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up all of them!"
But Lu Ke still pursued him.
"Let me tell you the answer?" Lu Ke continued to say, "Because it's the New England Patriots, because it's Bill Belichick, because it's Tom Brady; and here, it's nothing. If I If I’m wrong, please feel free to correct me or refute me.”
Among the three teams Moss has played in his career, the only head coach who can suppress him is Belichick.
It's not that Moss is unwilling to run relatively fixed routes, but because the San Francisco 49ers failed to tame this wild horse.
These words stung Moss's sensitive nerves, and he could not refute. The feeling of shame grew bit by bit, and he was furious. Between throwing punches and controlling his temper, he chose the latter - today, he still needed to talk to the head coach, and it was best to avoid causing trouble. , so he turned and left.
He straightened his chest and raised his head high. Even in embarrassment, shame and anger, Moss still unswervingly maintained his pride. The pride of "Randy Moss" will not be lost because of his youth. You will not bow your head because of injuries or status. This is the conclusion drawn from a long career, because in the professional league and in the cruel society, no one will pity the weak.
Lu Ke is still too young. He couldn't understand Moss's persistence and mentality, nor could he understand Moss's stubbornness and stubbornness, but he could read the pride in Moss's back, the pride that would rather break than bend, the pride that refused to surrender even if it was covered in mess and bruises.
"Randy Moss, why did you choose to come back?"
Lu Ke's voice was full of the youth and vitality of young people, echoing in the empty parking lot. The raging wind could not shake the vigorous vitality, which made Moss' footsteps stop involuntarily.
"You're a legend! A true legend! You know what the name 'Randy Moss' really means? For a cornerback, it's a nightmare; for a quarterback, it's a nightmare. It's a wonderful wonderland. You have created countless histories, you have had a brilliant career, and even if you retire, you can easily enter the Hall of Fame, there is no doubt about it."
"You don't have to prove yourself."
Unconsciously, Moss straightened his spine again. Even though his spine was completely straight, he still raised his chin and opened his shoulders. The arrogance bursting out from the inside made him hold it tightly. fist.
You don't need to prove yourself.
This sentence is so heavy and precious to Moss.
Throughout his life, he was trying to prove himself because people thought he was always inferior to Jerry Rice, the best wide receiver in history. Not only did he perform well on the field, but he also performed well off the field. The reputation is also extremely good, especially because the number of Super Bowls is so different - Jerry Rice won three Super Bowls! He is also the MVP of a Super Bowl!
He could never catch up to Jerry Rice.
His pain, his struggle, his mission, others will never understand.
"You know what? I'm jealous of you because you have talent, a talent that makes people jealous to the point of madness. As long as you stand on the court, you seem to have a natural sense of touch and can always smell opportunities and open up situations; this is What I dream of, I have to work ten times a hundred times to barely catch up with you..."
Suddenly, Lu Ke's words changed the tone. Moss frowned, turned around suddenly, and cursed in disgust, "So? What does this mean? You are trying to win now." My sympathy? It doesn’t work, you know, if you had a big pair of boobs, I might give it a second thought.”
Faced with Moss's complaints, Lu Ke was not angry, but chuckled.
As expected, Moss's style is always unpredictable.
