Super Bowl Domination

Chapter 188 Sounding the Alarm Bell
"One. Two. Three."

Physical trainer Barry Rubin didn't even use a whistle, but just roared in his throat, his voice rough and explosive, covering the entire training ground. All players, without exception, had to obey the commands, one command and one action.

The basic posture is to mark time on the spot. You must keep your toes touching the ground at all times, constantly changing the toes lightly and swiftly, and then complete the movement according to the commands.

1. Keep your upper body still, bend your knees to the left, and then return to the original position.

2. Keep your upper body still, bend your knees to the right, and then return to the original position.

3. Lie down.

Fourth, push off the ground with your legs in a plank position, lifting your left knee toward your stomach.

5. Same posture, but push your right knee toward your stomach.

Six and seven, repeat the action of four and five.

8. Stand.

9. Jump with your legs open.

10. Return to the original position.

From one to ten, one command and one movement, mobilize the muscles of the whole body to move, and further improve on the burpee. This is a simple warm-up exercise to get the whole body moving as much as possible.

It seems simple, but the key point is——

Lasted a full thirty minutes?
In fact, it didn't take thirty minutes. After about ten minutes, the players on the offensive and defensive lines could no longer hold on.

The players on the two front lines are often the heaviest and clumsiest players in the team. They are like mountains of flesh, and their endurance is very poor. Such physical training is simply torture for them.

A mountain of flesh took off his helmet, and the whole person looked like he had just been fished out of the water, with smoke coming out of his head. He looked at the head coach Reed who was supervising the training in the front of the team, his eyes full of anger, and protested with his eyes.

Soon after, several other meat mountains took off their helmets and joined the ranks.

Reed, however, showed no emotion.

Rubin's scolding immediately followed, "What the hell are you doing? Put on your helmet immediately and continue the training! Otherwise, you will have to practice for an extra 30 minutes after the training is over. I mean what I say, and I'll do it now!"

The saliva was flying everywhere. Under the sunlight, one could clearly see Rubin's saliva splashing onto the face of the mountain of flesh. His ferocious expression made him want to eat the other person alive. The atmosphere instantly became tense.

The other players could not stop. They still needed to keep changing their feet and tapping the ground. The tightness extended from the calves to the thighs, buttocks and waist. The sour feeling was truly unforgettable.

Those meat mountains could all sense the death stares from their other teammates. They looked once more at the indifferent and expressionless Reed, put on their helmets indignantly, and rejoined the training before incurring the wrath of the crowd.

"Five. Six. Seven. Eight."

Rubin's hoarse roar continued to circle over the training ground like a vulture.

However, continuous high-intensity training could not last long after all. It was obvious at a glance that the meat mountains could no longer hold on, and the speed of their cycling movements had completely slowed down.

It looked like I was about to faint.

Assistant coach Brad Childress looked at Reid with concern. "Coach, is this really okay?"

In fact, Reed is more worried than Childress. He has never been a tough coach. Although he is serious, he is not tough. However, he has his own concerns.

It is more of an influence from the outside world than from his own position as a coach.

Including questions about the Kansas City Chiefs' continued inability to advance in the playoffs, questions about their decisions in this year's draft, and attention to the league's first Asian first-round pick, the interference of off-field factors has become a time bomb that may explode at any time.

The current training is not about enforcing discipline, but about eliminating distractions and maintaining concentration.

They need such a process, the players need to put aside off-court influences and truly focus on training.

"Look." Reed didn't respond, but just raised his chin slightly to signal.

Finally, someone couldn't hold on any longer, his calf began to twitch as if he had been electrocuted, and he fell to the ground wailing. Medical personnel immediately came forward.

Rubin glanced at the figure and shook his head slightly. These superstars with annual salaries of millions have been pampered for too long. They are spoiled and have no fighting spirit or tenacity. No wonder they always lose the game at critical moments in the playoffs.

If the Kansas City Chiefs had money and built a mercenary team to compete for the championship, then the lack of fighting spirit and bloodiness would not be a problem, just like Real Madrid, a galactic battleship, all that matters is luxury; but the problem is that they don't have it, the team in front of them is not a mercenary team, but a real team, they need to rely on each other, support each other and help each other.

"Humph!"

"Imagine that it's the official two-minute timeout in the fourth quarter of a playoff game. You're tired, your opponents are tired, and anyone can win. It's either you or them. You both have no energy or strength left. It all depends on who can hold on for a little while longer."

"so?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Will you lie down with your knees hugged and groan? Or will you stand up straight and continue to fight? Do you think your opponent will hand over the victory? Why, do you have gold, silver, treasures, or a beautiful face? Why?"

"Victory requires you to fight for it on your own."

"The point is, are you ready?"

"One! Two!"

Tap, tap, tap.

There was no other sound above the training ground except for the messy footsteps and heavy breathing. Rubin's cold and rough voice did not waver at all, cruelly pulling all the players towards hell.

"Three! Four!"

Sweat is boiling; muscles are burning.

Levi was very focused, 100%, he thought his physical reserves were sufficient, but obviously, he still underestimated the professional competitions——

One after another, most of the players fell to the ground and were dragged away from the training ground by medical staff. The central field was gradually cleared, but surprisingly, Smith stayed.

Alex Smith, quarterback.

Smith has always seemed "mediocre", whether it was not tough enough at critical moments or lacking a fatal long pass, which made him seem neither good nor bad, but never a superstar.

But deep down, Smith also has his persistence.

He clenched his teeth tightly, and a rare murderous look flashed in his eyes.

Unfortunately, he failed to hold on in the end. His knees softened and he fell forward on his knees.

"Alex!"

Someone exclaimed, but Smith raised his head and refused the medical staff who came to help, and stood up on his own. Although his whole body was shaking, he finally stood up shakily. Amidst the admiring gazes, he walked to the side, picked up the water bottle and drank it.

In a blink of an eye, there were only three people left in the training ground—

Levi Hunter.

Travis Kelce.

Two rookies and one veteran.

In fact, Mahomes persisted to the end, but he was still a little lacking. He fell to the ground a little bit in front of Smith. It was not so much that his body could not bear it, but rather that he was not mentally prepared, which led to a slight deviation and his knees did not support it.

After falling to the ground, Mahomes still seemed energetic. He relied on himself to return to the sidelines and sat with other rookie players, cheering enthusiastically.

Unintentionally, this training session turned into a contest between rookies and veterans, and the situation gradually became more delicate.

(End of this chapter)