Pop.
Buckner could no longer control himself. One second ago, he was glaring at Bosa, accusing him of ruining the San Francisco 49ers' efforts with a foul; the next, he was watching as Li Wei completed a juggling-like catch at the end zone line, delivering a staggering blow, his body could no longer support him, knees buckling, directly kneeling, even supporting his body with both hands, completely surrendering.
It's over.
This thought gripped Buckner's heart tightly, unable to breathe; he didn't even have time to care about Bosa, as his soul was dragged into darkness by that surge of energy, shattering in despair and pain, all courage and fighting spirit utterly fragmented.
Kneeled just like that.
Is it over, everything... ending just like this?
"Touchdown!"
In the live broadcast room, Buck suddenly stood up, his cheeks flushed, holding the microphone, as if a rock star was performing a top concert at the Hard Rock Stadium.
"Touuuuuuuuuchdown!"
