The spacious player tunnel was filled with a large number of reporters, at least thirty or forty of them. It was a spectacular sight, with a huge, bustling crowd that showed the imnse attention and enthusiasm from the dia. The hubbub of questions was endless.
"Bambi, what are your expectations for this week's ga? The league still doesn't favor you to win. Do you have anything to say in response to that?"
"Is that news?" Lu Ke's reflex was to widen his eyes and look at the reporters with a confused expression. "It's not news that they think we'll lose. If they suddenly thought we would win, that would be news."
It was the honest truth, and it was hilarious. But the problem was that it was one thing for Lu Ke to make fun of himself, and it was another for them to laugh. Laughing at this mont would have been inappropriate, rude, and disrespectful. So, the reporters had to suppress their urge to laugh and maintain a professional and serious deanor.
"Are you saying that you don't have a problem with Charles Davis always being against the 49ers and your performance?" another reporter in the crowd asked.
Jay Fox frowned. This reporter was clearly trying to stir up trouble and make Lu Ke and Charles confront each other in a war of words. He used to think that only entertainnt reporters would do this and that sports reporters should just focus on the gas and not pay too much attention to the off-field drama. Clearly, he was too young and too naive.
"Charles Davis?"
"The one who promised to eat his microphone last ti."
"Oh!" Lu Ke suddenly understood. He wasn't being intentional; he genuinely didn't rember Charles Davis.
As he had said, after entering the league, almost everyone was against him. The voices of doubt were everywhere. If he opened a newspaper, turned on the TV, or went online, all he saw was doubt and provocation. Instead of spending ti reading these aningless news stories, he would rather watch a ga film and analyze the playbook.
This was different from Richard Sherman. First, Sherman was a player, an opponent he played against. Second, they had a conflict in the rookie training camp. In the interview, Lu Ke pretended not to know Sherman as a way of retaliating. But as for Charles, Lu Ke really had no mory of him. It wasn't until he heard the keyword "eat his microphone" that he reacted.
The speaker didn't an it, but the listener took it to heart.
This small, unintentional act later reached Charles' ears. Considering that after the first week of the regular season, Lu Ke had famously asked, "Who?" It was natural for Charles to assu that Lu Ke was a repeat offender and that he had done it on purpose. He imdiately lost it and started cursing on the show backstage.
Charles was by no ans a nobody. On the contrary, he was a well-known figure in the industry. Being ignored in such a way was a great humiliation.
However, all of that was for later. Even if Lu Ke had predicted Charles's anger, it wasn't the main focus for him.
"For comntators, it's their job to analyze gas. For players, it's our job to play the gas," Lu Ke answered with a shrug, without much hesitation or thought. "The fact is, we won't necessarily lose just because comntators say we will. Similarly, we won't necessarily win just because they say we can."
"The ga must be played by us, one step at a ti. It's not just ; it's every mber of the offense, defense, and special teams. We need to stick together, and only then can we win." Lu Ke smiled as he expressed his point of view, and he ended with a aningful conclusion: "So…"
So, the comntators' analysis wouldn't affect them or the ga. So, there was no need for them to be surprised or panicked by the comntators' analysis. So, he didn't think this was major news.
"So…" was a phrase full of possibilities. Combined with Lu Ke's nonchalant tone, the reporters' imaginations ran wild.
"Bambi!" Jay raised his right hand, ready to ask a question, but another reporter next to him was more aggressive. He cut off Jay's question and bluntly asked his own. "Eagles quarterback Michael Vick said he doesn't care about you and that he doesn't know you. Do you have anything to say in response to that?"
"Should he know ?" Lu Ke's rhetorical question made the reporter choke.
Jay, who was standing not far away, couldn't hold back a chuckle. He quickly lowered his head to hide his smile, and then he heard Lu Ke's follow-up. "What I an is, I'm a rookie who has only played three gas. I'm pretty sure a lot of people don't even know how to spell my na correctly."
It wasn't "LUKE" but "KE-LU." The last na and first na were reversed and separated. But for dia reporters, "Lu Ke equals Luke." This wasn't a mistake, just a lazy shortcut.
Faced with Lu Ke's sarcasm, the reporters were speechless and couldn't refute him. "To other teams, I'm just the number fourteen of the San Francisco 49ers. I'm the one they need to tackle. That's all there is to it. So, I guess it's not news that Michael Vick and I aren't friends."
The sarcastic and teasing tone made the reporter's question seem ridiculous. The topics that were ant to stir up trouble beca boring, dull, and even a little stupid under Lu Ke's responses.
"Bambi!" Jay raised his right hand again, and again, before he could ask his question, another reporter cut him off and asked loudly, "This week is the first ti you'll be officially starting as the quarterback. Does it feel special? Also, in this week's road ga in Philadelphia, there don't seem to be many away fans. Do you have anything to say about that?"
It was still a very aggressive line of questioning, but Lu Ke once again answered with a rhetorical question. "I thought this was the fourth ga. Did I get my math wrong?"
"Pfft," not only Jay, but all the reporters couldn't hold back anymore and started to chuckle. But they imdiately realized that they were laughing at their fellow reporters, which didn't seem right, so they suppressed their laughter. The muffled sounds only made the sarcasm more apparent, and the reporter who asked the question's face turned red.
"As for the fans, I'm not worried. Road gas are always difficult, but I believe they're always with the team. Instead of a road ga, I sincerely hope that everyone can co to our ho gas to watch us play. That would be an important encouragent and affirmation for the guys." In this regard, Lu Ke softened his tone and gave a standard, friendly response.
He had a clear understanding of when to be aggressive, when to deflect a question, and when to be friendly.
He was so experienced and so composed. He was completely at ease when dealing with the reporters. To be honest, this really impressed Leigh. In the entire league, there were only a handful of players who were so good at handling the dia. What did this an? It ant that Lu Ke's comrcial value and public image had suddenly increased.
Perhaps the "Chinese-Arican" label could really be a positive sign for Lu Ke to make a na for himself, not an obstacle.
"Bambi, you won the starting position in the team competition this week. What are your thoughts on Alex Smith?" This was another tricky and sharp question, and it was also one of the hottest topics of the week.
However, Lu Ke surprisingly didn't answer. He shook his head and refused. "Your questions are completely out of order. That reporter over there has raised his hand three tis and has been interrupted three tis. This isn't the right way to hold a press conference. This is the NFL, not so amateur league. Jay, what's your question?"
Jay had raised his hand for the third ti but had been cut off for the third ti. As a rookie reporter, Jay still had a lot to learn. He was both annoyed and frustrated, but then he heard Lu Ke's words. He looked around and saw that the other reporters had awkwardly averted their gazes. Then, they all looked at him, seemingly inviting him to ask his question first.
A rookie player had outsmarted all the reporters and still managed to take the moral high ground, so much so that the reporters didn't dare to look him in the eye. They could only pretend not to have heard him, as if they weren't the ones who had violated the rules.
It was Lu Ke, indeed! Jay always believed that if Lu Ke hadn't beco a professional football player, he would have definitely beco an excellent reporter.
Suppressing his urge to burst out laughing, Jay quickly asked loudly, "Bambi, in the last three gas, you tied Kurt Warner's record and also broke one of his records. There's a chance you can continue this montum this week. Do you have any expectations for that?"
In the spotlight, all the reporters knew that Jay Fox and Lu Ke were very close friends. Lu Ke's intervention just now was an attempt to get a benefit for his friend, and their eyes showed a hint of annoyance and discontent. But after Jay's question was asked, everyone's eyes lit up, and they all looked at Lu Ke with curiosity.
"Record?" Lu Ke, who was the person in question, was completely confused.
Jay had to explain. "In 1999, Kurt Warner set a league record by throwing for three touchdowns in each of his first three career gas. He also had a total of nine passing touchdowns in his first three gas, and both of those are league records. In addition, he had a total of fourteen touchdowns in his first four gas, which is also a league record. You've already broken the first two records. In this ga, you only need to get three more touchdowns to tie the last record."
In the first three gas of his career, Lu Ke had a total of eleven touchdowns and had at least three touchdowns in each of the three gas. His performance was on par with Warner, who had burst onto the scene back then. Clearly, this week, Lu Ke had another chance to make history.
"Wow." Lu Ke really hadn't known this before, but a smile still involuntarily appeared on his face. "It seems that I'll have to work even harder this week. Of course, winning is always the most important thing for the team, and records are secondary. But I will focus on the ga and see what I can do."
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