American Football: Domination

Maybe people could come up with a hundred reasons to dislike the New England Patriots, but since the start of the 21st century, they had been the most consistent and dominant team in the league—

Bar none.

The duo of Belichick and Brady was the most formidable partnership in NFL history, rewriting the record books together, even if no one outside New England actually liked them.

The modern Patriots were defined by Bill Belichick's iron grip.

Belichick's obsession with winning had reached an almost pathological level. There was no warmth in his team, no camaraderie—only victory mattered. That philosophy had led him to unparalleled success, but it also cemented his reputation as the coldest, most ruthless coach in the league.

Other than Brady, Belichick had never shown the slightest sentiment toward any player or fan.

Over the years, players came and went without leaving a mark. People joked that the only two untouchable pieces in Foxborough were Brady and Belichick—every other Patriot was expendable.

And yet, even that assumption turned out to be naive.

When it came to business, no one was irreplaceable. Not even Brady.

In March 2020, Brady left New England and signed with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

Of course, this was the nature of professional sports, of a commercialized league.

Winning and profit were the only constants.

But such a cold, transactional approach reduced players to little more than numbers. For fans, a team like that was hard to love.

Beyond that, Belichick's ruthless tactics, his cunning and rule-bending—even outright disregard for sportsmanship—made the Patriots the undisputed villains of the league.

But Belichick never cared whether fans loved or hated him. His philosophy was built on winning, and he wouldn't compromise.

…That is, until he, too, became a casualty of the same "win-at-all-costs" mentality.

In January 2024, the Patriots and Belichick issued a joint statement announcing the end of their 25-year partnership.

Within 24 hours, New England had already named his replacement, ushering in a new era.

People expected the franchise to move on, but the speed of the transition was ruthless.

Clearly, this was no amicable parting.

But that was all in the future.

Back in 2017, the defending champion Patriots had finished the regular season 13-3, once again standing as the strongest Super Bowl contender. Belichick and Brady kept shattering records, cold and relentless as ever.

So when the Chiefs arrived in Foxborough once more, Patriots fans weren't just looking for a win—

They wanted obliteration.

They hadn't forgotten the season-opening loss. At the time, they dismissed it as a fluke, believing the Chiefs weren't a real threat.

But then Lance stepped on Brady's shoulders to announce himself to the league, turning the Patriots into his personal footnote.

And he never slowed down.

Now, in the Divisional Round, the Chiefs were standing in the Patriots' way once again, daring to challenge the throne.

To make matters worse—

The team's name was the Chiefs.

A name tied to Native American heritage—the very people New England had spent centuries trying to distance themselves from.

"Chiefs vs. Patriots" was more than just a playoff matchup.

A nobody. A fluke. An insignificant "Chief" who had been lucky enough to upset the king. And now he had the audacity to challenge them again?

Was this what they called "choosing the hard way"?

Fine.

To Patriots fans, this wasn't just about revenge. It was about correction.

The Chiefs beating the Patriots?

A rookie running back becoming a superhero?

An Asian face replacing Brady as the new face of the league?

No. Wrong.

New England had to rewrite the script, erase these errors, and restore order.

The season opener? That was a glitch. A fluke. An accident. The Patriots hadn't even cared.

But this was the playoffs. And the Chiefs had overstepped.

This time, New England would not take them lightly.

Order must be restored.

"Go back where you came from!"

"Oh, what a shame. If only your plane had crashed, you'd have been spared the humiliation you're about to suffer. Hahaha!"

"Cowards! Try not to piss your pants!"

As the Chiefs' buses arrived, the air filled with a storm of jeers and curses, each insult filthier than the last. Even Houston, a veteran of countless road games, felt his expression darken.

Instinctively, he turned toward the offense's bus, his gaze laced with concern. Lance had remained composed all season, but at the end of the day, he was still a young player, a rookie.

He had never faced this level of hostility before.

Could he handle it?

From across the aisle, Revis noticed Houston's concern. He hesitated—he didn't usually get involved in team drama—but in the end, he spoke up.

"If you're worried about the rookie, don't be."

"All the trash out there couldn't even scratch him."

Houston glanced at Revis. The legendary cornerback had kept his distance from everyone since joining the team, but now he was actually defending Lance.

Was that a good sign?

After a moment, Houston smirked. "Actually, I'm more worried about what the rookie's gonna do to them."

Revis: …

Meanwhile, at the front of the offensive bus, Mahomes and Kelce were blocking the aisle, both looking nervous.

Lance, still gathering his things, frowned. "What?"

Mahomes scratched his head. "Just… don't let the stuff outside get to you."

Lance turned and glanced out the window. "This is good news."

Mahomes was confused. "Huh?"

Lance smirked. "Last time we came to Foxborough, they didn't even bother heckling us. We weren't worth their time."

"But now, they're loud. Real loud."

"The louder they are, the more scared they are."

"They've already lost their cool."

Pfft.

Smith let out an involuntary laugh. A moment later, the rest of the offense followed, chuckling as the tension in the bus evaporated.

Lance stood up casually.

"If they're this scared, there's no need for us to be the bad guys."

"No point in bullying the weak."

"They're fragile."

Squeezing past Kelce, he walked off the bus with an easy stride.

Roll. Roll. Roll!

The stadium erupted in boos, chants, and jeers, crashing over him like a tidal wave.

Lance didn't flinch. He didn't react.

He simply lifted a hand, waved it in front of his nose, and frowned.

Like something stank.

Was it their words that smelled? Or their bodies?

Or… was it just plain old BO?

Just one gesture. Just one expression.

That was enough.

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Powerstones?

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