"Kansas City Chiefs fans..."
Goodell's voice echoed through every corner of the U.S. Bank Stadium, carried even further by the television screens reaching every home.
"You've waited so long for this trophy — from distant 1970 all the way to 2018. From the first game of this season, you fought and battled, showing the world the true beauty of football. Now, you stand atop the world, making history."
"And now, you are world champions!"
Then—
Goodell handed the Vince Lombardi Trophy to Clark Hunt.
As Hunt lifted the trophy high into the air, a shower of crimson confetti erupted, engulfing the stadium. Cheers and screams filled the air, and the U.S. Bank Stadium officially became Chiefs Kingdom.
From Hunt to Reid, to Smith and Houston, one after another they took turns holding the trophy and giving interviews. The ceremony carried on in full tradition.
Finally—
It was Lance's turn.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let's give it up for the MVP of Super Bowl 52—LANCE!"
Lance stepped forward, took the Vince Lombardi Trophy from Houston—
And lifted it high!
Aaaaahhhhhh!
The entire stadium erupted into madness.
The ground shook from the sheer noise and energy.
Even Goodell was slightly taken aback—
Earlier, Hunt, Reid, and the others had all lifted the trophy, each time met with cheers—but nothing compared to this. The energy now was explosive, overwhelming, as if everything had been held back just for this moment.
Aaaaahhhhhh!
Berry roared at the top of his lungs, his eyes brimming with tears yet his face beaming.
He knew: he would not give up.
He would fight on.
He was proud to be a Chief.
Not just inside U.S. Bank Stadium, not just outside it, not just at the Old Oak Tavern or in Kansas City—
The entire North American continent could feel the blaze spreading.
Even across the Pacific, on the faraway land of China, the fires burned.
This trophy bore witness to glory, miracles, and now—history.
Lance, a running back.
Lance became the first running back to win Super Bowl MVP since Terrell Davis in 1998—
The first of the new millennium—
Only the eighth running back ever to achieve this in Super Bowl history.
He was also the youngest Super Bowl MVP ever.
The first rookie to ever win it.
The first Asian-American MVP in Super Bowl history.
Record after record.
All historic.
A rookie running back—
Yet the key that transformed the Kansas City Chiefs.
Sure, Hunt and Reid had raised the Lombardi Trophy earlier.
Sure, the offensive and defensive captains had riled up the fans.
But Lance? Lance was different.
Unique.
Not just tonight.
All season long, Lance's unparalleled performances had reignited the heart of Kansas City.
One year ago, during the draft, who could have predicted this?
Who could have foreseen the chaos of the 2017 season would become the perfect backdrop for Lance's meteoric rise?
Now.
Here.
The world trembled for Lance.
And then—
The most incredible, legendary, and unique scene in Super Bowl history unfolded:
"LANCE!"
"LANCE!"
Chant after chant, wave after wave, like a storm.
Hunt was stunned.
He instinctively looked at Goodell.
Was the NFL behind this?
Was Goodell trying to manufacture a superstar?
But one glance at Goodell's equally shocked face said it all:
No one planned this.
Normally, building a superstar takes years—not one season.
Goodell knew that.
And yet—this moment had happened.
Organically. Naturally.
Lance's Moment.
A moment belonging to Lance and Lance alone.
A once-in-a-lifetime event, likely never to be repeated.
History often begins just like this.
Goodell stared thoughtfully at the scene.
Then he looked at Hunt, who slowly nodded in realization.
"LANCE!"
The stadium shook.
This wasn't Lance's first experience with overwhelming adoration—
But this was different.
Bigger.
Stronger.
A smile crept onto Lance's face.
The entire season flashed before his eyes—
Every game, every struggle, every moment.
His chest tightened.
Emotion threatened to overwhelm him.
"…Lance," the host tried again.
Three attempts, all failed—
The crowd simply would not quiet down.
The host looked helpless.
Lance noticed, smiled warmly, and exchanged a knowing glance with the host.
He spread his arms with a dramatic shrug—
A "what can I do?" expression that made the whole stadium laugh.
Then—
Lance raised his left hand.
A small, calm gesture:
Settle down.
Like a maestro calming an orchestra before the first note.
He wasn't sure if it would work—
But, unbelievably, it did.
Bit by bit, the stadium quieted.
Not completely silent—
A soft murmur still floated in the air—
But enough.
Enough to feel the magic in the air.
The host nearly dropped his microphone.
He gulped and steadied himself, voice slightly cracking:
"Lance? Is… that the correct way to address you?"
The spotlight centered on Lance.
Over 150 million viewers worldwide were watching.
Every gaze hotter than the brightest light.
Lance stood calm, unflinching.
He grinned:
"Hey, I don't mind if you call me 'rookie'."
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Powerstones?
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