The game came to an end with a resounding and crushing scoreline.
Final score: UCLA Bruins 67 - Houston Cougars 3
After a quick analysis in the booth, where McDonough and Millen discussed the brutal statistics Andrew had posted in the first two quarters, followed by Brett Hundley’s solid finish in the second half, the broadcast cameras cut directly to the field at Robertson Stadium.
Amid players greeting one another near the sideline, reporter Jeanne Zelasko appeared on screen, holding a microphone with the ESPN logo.
"Andrew, over here for a second!" Jeanne called out after spotting him walking toward the tunnel with his helmet tucked under his arm, barely sweating after having played only the first half.
Andrew stopped and turned around while the reporter moved beside him, as the cameraman framed them live for the entire country.
"Andrew, Lee Corso predicted this morning that you would have a feast against the Houston Cougars, but what we saw in the first two quarters exceeded every expectation," Jeanne began, raising the microphone toward him.
"Five touchdowns in just two quarters, including that incredible bomb of more than fifty yards to your receiver, Shaq. You built such an overwhelming lead that the game was practically over in thirty minutes. How are you feeling?"
At Barney's Beanery, the students immediately stopped their cheerful murmurs about the victory.
The entire bar fell into respectful silence. Everyone wanted to hear the words of their star player with complete attention.
"Shhh!" a girl hissed, giving a subtle elbow to her companion, who, noticeably drunk, was already trying to belt out a university song at the top of his lungs.
"Happy with the win," Andrew replied through the speakers. "We deserved it. The effort we put in during the week showed up on the scoreboard. As a team, we needed a victory like this."
Jeanne looked at him with a smile and couldn't help but jump in with a playful tone. "I imagine your heart, and the hearts of all Bruins fans, appreciate the breather, considering you were coming off two straight weeks of absolute heart attacks."
Of course, Jeanne was referring to the last two games against Nebraska and Oregon State.
Those games had been decided agonizingly on the final offensive drive, putting tremendous pressure on Bruins fans. One ended well, the other did not.
Monica, who was staring intently at the screen, nodded several times. Those two tense games had caused a great deal of anxiety. Around her, she wasn't the only one. Dozens of Bruins fans in the bar mirrored the gesture.
"Exactly," Andrew agreed with a relaxed laugh. "The defense did an excellent job today. They only allowed three points, and those didn't impact anything."
Jeanne nodded and moved on to the next question.
"Seventeen touchdowns in just four games, which is already a historic performance for a freshman because of both the pace and the manner in which you're doing it. But if you had played the last two quarters, you might have reached UCLA's all-time record for most touchdown passes in a single game, which belongs to Drew Olson with six touchdown passes during the 2005 season. Considering you threw five touchdowns in only two quarters... doesn't it feel like a shame to let that slip away?"
In the history of UCLA football, Drew Olson still owned several major records, and that mark of six touchdown passes in a single game against Oregon State in 2005 had seemed untouchable.
Until Andrew arrived at the Bruins. In his very first game, he had already come close by throwing 5 TDs.
And now he had come even closer, since he recorded 5 TDs in just two quarters. Had he stayed in for the final two quarters, he probably would not only have tied the mark, but at the pace he was playing, he would have completely shattered it.
In the bar, many students began murmuring among themselves, completely agreeing with that assessment.
Watching Andrew dismantle Houston in that fashion had made them fantasize about a historic blowout approaching eighty points, or about seeing Andrew replicate his legendary Friday night performances from high school, such as that mythical Mater Dei game against St. John Bosco in which he scored seven touchdowns.
"Not really. I don't think about those individual records," Andrew replied simply. "If a record is meant to fall, then it should happen because the game and the circumstances naturally allow it. The priority is competing for championships, not chasing individual awards."
He didn't need to say anything more.
A record was only worth breaking if the game was competitive and required him to stay on the field until the very end.
In a situation like today's, with the score already decided, the best and smartest option was to leave the field. It was far better to rest, avoid unnecessary risks, and give the backups an opportunity.
Jeanne seemed genuinely surprised by an answer of that caliber coming from an eighteen-year-old.
Andrew was the unquestioned face of the team and played under the bright lights of Los Angeles, a city obsessed with stars and spectacle.
Maybe if he had come from one of the more traditional football states, where the sport is lived with less showmanship and a lower profile, it would have been understandable.
Even then, however, elite athletes tend to have enormous egos, especially young college football players who seem to have the entire country at their feet.
That statement was not entirely an exaggeration.
College football was not a simple student pastime, it was the most popular and monstrous amateur sport in the country.
It generated billions of dollars in annual revenue, mobilized crowds that filled stadiums significantly larger than those of the NFL itself, and carried a cultural tradition so deeply rooted that it bordered on religious fanaticism, far surpassing the impact of many professional leagues.
Every weekend, millions of people came to a standstill just to watch a handful of college students crash helmets on a football field. Being the star quarterback in that ecosystem was equivalent to being a celebrity.
That was precisely why someone with Andrew's fame and status handling glory this way, with such an impressive team-first mentality, was somewhat bewildering. The kid was focused almost obsessively on the team winning above his own personal spotlight.
'That's probably how he went undefeated in high school and won twelve championships...' Jeanne thought, swallowing lightly at Andrew's calm intensity.
This insatiable desire to win and keep winning, placing team victories above personal records, was the real reason Andrew had never tasted defeat during his high school years.
At the bar, a subtle, approving smile appeared on Paige's face.
'Wow...' she thought to herself, genuinely impressed.
By that point, Paige had already come to terms with Andrew's athletic genius.
Seeing the meticulous data the commentators had broken down before the game, showcasing his brutal statistics, and also seeing how everyone at UCLA was absolutely crazy about him.
But hearing those words come from his own mouth and realizing that he lacked the attention-hungry, individualistic mindset that characterized the average superstar caught her by surprise.
That mature mentality, combined with his geeky interests and a personality so far removed from the mold of the hormone-fueled, ego-inflated athlete, was beginning to make Andrew very interesting in Paige's eyes.
"Last question, Andrew. With this performance, you're putting serious pressure on Geno Smith, who still hasn't played his game yet, for the number one spot in the Heisman Watch. For a true freshman to be competing for the top spot by Week 4 is unprecedented. Does the possibility of becoming the first freshman in history to win the award excite you?" Jeanne asked.
"My goal right now is to win the next game," Andrew said, keeping his feet firmly on the ground. "If I maintain my level of play and help my team keep winning, there's a better chance of that happening, but it's not like I check the Heisman Watch every week."
Andrew knew that leading ESPN's Heisman Watch, or that of any other television network, did not guarantee winning the trophy.
It was purely an exercise in opinion and debate among panelists. Although he also knew it carried significant media weight because those analysts were some of the most famous in the country and helped shape the narrative.
If a television program placed you in the Top 3 of its Heisman Watch, it gave you exposure to millions of viewers, directly influencing public perception.
But television did not vote. Even finishing first on the graphic in the final week of November did not guarantee victory.
Although it was clear that you would probably finish somewhere in the Heisman Top 5, which was already a major achievement.
The real voters were a select committee of more than eight hundred sports journalists spread across the nation, along with all living former winners of the trophy.
Andrew remembered how the previous year had ended. As a genuine fan of the sport, he had closely followed the 2011 NCAA season.
In the final week of November 2011, every ESPN screen showed Andrew Luck, Stanford's star quarterback, firmly established in the number one spot on their rankings.
To television, Luck was the undisputed favorite. He had the narrative of the "perfect prospect," played for a top program heading to a major bowl game, and studio analysts were convinced the trophy already belonged to him.
They placed Robert Griffin III at #2. Despite his incredible statistics, ESPN did not rank him first because Baylor had lost three games that season and was a school with less media and historical prestige.
On almost every other network, such as CBS and Fox Sports, the Top 1 and 2 were exactly the same.
However, when December arrived, Robert Griffin III completely swept Andrew Luck in the actual voting, beating him by nearly five hundred points.
That proved that the specialized press was not easily carried away by the superficial hype generated in television studios.
One disastrous game could cost you ten spots in the general perception, and stringing together two losses meant disappearing completely from the map.
He had witnessed it himself just a week earlier with Matt Barkley, who had begun the season as the nation's number one candidate and, after collapsing against Stanford, had plummeted spectacularly to the bottom of the Top 10.
Many people in the bar whistled and shouted in approval at Andrew's answer.
"That's all for today, Andrew. Thank you very much, and congratulations," Jeanne concluded with a wide smile, nodding toward the camera.
Andrew raised his right hand in a quick thumbs-up gesture, started to turn around, but stopped. He looked at the camera and said, "Oh, and by the way... a shoutout to my friend Howard and to everyone at Barney's Beanery who was watching the game."
After that, he simply stepped out of the camera's frame and walked calmly toward the locker room tunnel with his helmet tucked under his arm.
At that exact moment, the entire bar fell into complete silence. Dozens of students held their breath, processing what they had just heard.
Someone at a nearby table broke the silence, blinking in disbelief.
"U-Us?" he asked uncertainly.
The Barney's Beanery chain had multiple locations throughout California. This was only one of them.
So perhaps Andrew wasn't referring to where they were.
"YES, IT'S US! I'M HOWARD!" Howard suddenly exclaimed, jumping to his feet on top of his chair and waving his arms in the air, immediately drawing everyone's attention.
One second of hesitation was all it took for the entire bar to erupt into collective celebration.
"Yeah, baby!"
A horde of students, especially the guys who had spent hours drinking and celebrating the historic beatdown, rushed toward his table to celebrate.
A gigantic guy wearing a Bruins jersey grabbed Howard firmly by the shoulder, laughing loudly, while the bartender pushed his way through the chaos and planted an ice-cold beer mug directly into his hands, courtesy of the house.
"Jesus Christ gave us a shoutout on national television!" another guy roared, clinking his glass against his friend's.
Leonard, trapped in the middle of the whirlwind of friendly shoves and congratulatory pats simply for being with Howard, smiled awkwardly.
'When the hell did Howard ask Andrew to give him a shoutout?' he thought with a grimace.
Howard's popularity in the pub skyrocketed within seconds.
Then someone in the crowd recognized him.
"Wait a second! You're the guy from the YouTube videos!" a student shouted, pointing at him. "He's Andrew's cameraman and the one who does the interviews!"
"Yeah, that's him!" another joined in, triggering a fresh round of cheers.
Howard, feeling like an absolute deity at eighteen years old, puffed out his chest proudly and raised his beer mug.
Monica and Rachel smiled at the exaggerated celebration.
Chloe, Sam's friend, lightly nudged her shoulder.
"Say you're Steve's girlfriend and they'll give us free beer and maybe food too," she commented quietly with a slight smile.
"We're not officially dating yet," Sam said, noticeably more shy with the crowd's attention now focused entirely on their table.
Paige observed the festive chaos with one eyebrow raised.
'Why all the commotion?' she wondered.
Watching an entire establishment full of college students practically worship Howard simply because a guy their own age had mentioned him on television for five seconds was a phenomenon worthy of study.
Leonard and the others didn't leave immediately.
The game had ended around six in the evening, but they decided to stay another half hour, allowing Howard to enjoy his sudden status as a local celebrity a little longer before asking for the check and beginning their retreat.
For the vast majority of those present, however, the day was only beginning.
College football Saturdays were an all-day ritual. The giant screens in the bar immediately switched to the night's marquee matchups.
And what would come after the day's football action ended was more than obvious to any college student: parties.
With such a crushing victory and the perfect game Andrew had just delivered, it was a certainty that UCLA's various fraternities and sororities would be hosting massive celebrations that very night, just as they had every weekend.
Sam finished typing a message on her phone, locked the screen, and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans.
Then she looked at Paige and the rest of her friends.
"Want to get together tonight at Steve's place?" she asked enthusiastically.
Paige glanced at her from the corner of her eye, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you inviting us on a date with your boyfriend? Or, well... with the guy who's close to becoming one?" she commented with a hint of skepticism.
"It's not a date alone with him," Sam replied, subtly gesturing with her chin toward Leonard, Howard, Monica, and Rachel's group. "They're going to be there too, with Andrew."
Chloe and the other girls exchanged glances and agreed almost instantly.
They definitely preferred a smaller, more private gathering over ending up at a massive fraternity party.
Besides, none of them were immune to Andrew's magnetism.
They knew perfectly well that he was single and, far from having an inflated ego or an insufferable attitude, he was funny, intelligent, and approachable.
The mere possibility of spending the evening talking with him in a relaxed environment was appealing to them.
All eyes at the table finally turned toward Paige, who maintained a thoughtful expression for a few seconds while weighing the variables in her head.
In the end, Paige let out a small sigh and nodded, accepting the invitation. If it had been a loud and chaotic party like the one from the previous weekend, she would have turned down the offer.
Even though she had enjoyed herself, Paige had no interest whatsoever in going out two weekends in a row. She needed to recharge her social battery. A quiet gathering with a few friends in a private home, on the other hand, was much more manageable for maintaining some level of sociability.
And so Saturday passed.
After the long flight back from Texas, Andrew and Steve landed in California late at night.
They met up with everyone at Andrew's apartment, including Sam's group.
Haley was there as well. She was under a strict punishment imposed by Claire.
So no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't go out partying.
An eighteen-year-old college student who already lived on her own being grounded by her mother?
Yes, it sounded ridiculous, but Claire always found foolproof ways to enforce her authority.
And after the previous week, when Haley had broken her promise and gotten Alex drunk, causing her to come home with vomit-stained clothes, ridiculously happy and saying nonsense, Claire had been furious.
Claire's strategy was based on finances.
Although Haley lived in her own apartment, the expensive rent was paid by Jay.
In addition, Claire and Phil transferred her a fixed monthly allowance to cover food, utilities, and living expenses.
Phil and Claire wanted her to focus exclusively on her studies now that she was beginning her first semester, sparing her the pressure of having to work while taking classes.
And while Haley had worked during the summer break and had her own savings, they were not enough to sustain her lifestyle in the long run.
In short: Claire had absolute control over the flow of money. Disobeying her meant the immediate collapse of Haley's finances and could force her to find a part-time job. So Haley intended to serve out her punishment without taking any risks.
For that very reason, crossing the hallway to the apartment across from hers and confining herself to a peaceful gathering at Andrew's place, surrounded by nerds and studious girls, was the greatest act of rebellion Haley could afford without her bank account suffering the consequences.
At least she had Rachel and Monica. Later, Willa arrived as well, making it the second consecutive week she had gotten together with the group after having been distant from them for some time.
Steve decided it was the perfect moment for a mandatory pop culture lesson and put on Rocky I, firmly determined to make Sam and her friends watch it from beginning to end.
His original plan, somewhat ambitious and excessive for a single evening, had been to subject them to a complete marathon of the franchise, but Willa, Haley, Sam herself, and the rest of the girls flatly refused to spend the entire night watching six boxing movies in a row.
In the end, the guys had to settle for Sam at least finishing the first film.
That was enough for her to stop being cinematically uncultured and be capable of understanding a basic reference in the future.
As for Saturday's football action, it produced some very interesting results besides UCLA's.
On one hand, West Virginia, led by Geno Smith, secured a 31-21 victory over the Maryland Terrapins. However, the win was widely considered disappointing by the press given the lower level of the opponent.
West Virginia, which had been averaging an absurd 55-plus points per game, won but deeply disappointed in terms of style.
Geno completed 30 of 43 passes, posting a 69.7% completion rate that fell well below the 80% and higher marks he had boasted in previous games. He threw for 3 touchdowns and no interceptions, a decent performance for anyone, but merely human for a Heisman candidate.
Naturally, comparisons to Andrew's game were immediate.
Twitter was on fire within minutes, and the late-night shows analyzing the day's action placed both performances under the microscope.
Andrew, with his brutal 82.3% completion rate, 285 passing yards, and 5 total touchdowns in only one half of football, came out looking infinitely better in the eyes of the public.
Many analysts openly began arguing that the Bruins freshman deserved to take the nation's number one spot away from Geno.
Although Andrew had attempted fewer passes, completing just 14 of 17, the logic was that he had played only two quarters and still produced nearly twice as many touchdowns as West Virginia's leader did in a full game, while facing opponents who, in theory, possessed very similar defensive levels.
The only thing perhaps preventing Andrew from overtaking him in the race was that Geno's team remained undefeated, while he himself had accumulated an unreal 81.3% completion rate with 13 total touchdowns and 0 interceptions on the season.
But now everyone believed that either Andrew had to be neck and neck with Geno or was outright stepping on his heels in the race for the Heisman.
On the other hand, USC managed to take care of business, defeating the California Golden Bears 27-9. But just like West Virginia, the way the Trojans secured the victory left an extremely bitter and disappointing taste in everyone's mouth.
The offense led by Barkley received a barrage of ruthless criticism for looking conservative, predictable, and almost entirely dependent on running back Silas Redd, who carried the entire burden of the team by recording 158 rushing yards and a touchdown.
Many doubts and criticisms were directed at Barkley for his lack of aggressiveness in pushing the ball downfield and for finishing with fewer than 200 passing yards in his own stadium against a Cal defense that was far from elite.
Barkley completed 22 of 34 passes for just 192 passing yards, settling for only 2 touchdowns through extremely short passes to Marqise Lee, one from 11 yards out and another from just 3 yards, though at least he left the game without throwing an interception.
Once again, the contrast with his unexpected young rival from across town was devastating.
Andrew had posted infinitely superior statistics while playing only two quarters.
And although California's Golden Bears could be considered a slightly better opponent than the Houston Cougars, the difference in offensive impact between the two quarterbacks was enormous.
As Week 4 came to a close, the landscape of college football had changed completely.
Andrew's status as a historic anomaly could no longer be dismissed as a simple lucky streak or a narrative inflated by the local Los Angeles media. It had been absolutely and categorically validated in the eyes of the entire country through a flawless performance.
Every showcase he delivered wearing a Bruins uniform forced the media, experts, and fans of rival teams to accept an undeniable reality: a true freshman was playing as the most talented and impactful player in the entire nation.
From a team perspective, however, the story was different.
Nobody was placing UCLA as the overwhelming favorite to win the national championship just yet.
Powerhouses like Alabama, Notre Dame, and the Oregon Ducks remained undefeated while displaying such overwhelming and complete dominance that it seemed impossible for a single talent, no matter how brilliant, to stop them.
To do that, you needed not only an elite offense but also an elite defense.
And the Bruins still carried defensive flaws.
However, in the strictly individual realm, there was, for now, no player more talented on the field than Andrew Pritchett-Tucker.
Despite the gigantic wave of praise and all the roses that the national media kept throwing at him, Andrew paid very little attention to it.
The moment he woke up, he had two completely different fronts awaiting him on Sunday.
His first task was helping Howard move into the UCLA dormitories.
Steve and Leonard would be helping as well.
After that, he had family matters on his schedule.
He was supposed to go with Gloria to his uncle and aunt's house.
After thinking it over, Gloria and Andrew had decided to reveal the pregnancy news to Claire.
She would become the second person to learn about the arrival of the new baby.
Knowing his aunt's neurotic personality perfectly well, Andrew could already visualize with absolute clarity the chaotic cascade of expressions that would transform Claire's face as she processed the news.
Without a doubt, it would be an extremely entertaining spectacle to witness.
...
A/N: Well, I managed to overcome the writer's block to some extent and I've already decided how to continue the story.
There will be a small time skip soon, nothing too major. The upcoming games on UCLA's schedule aren't exactly against strong opponents, and narrating all of them would make the season drag on longer than necessary.
And besides, the three main love interests have now been established: Rachel, Paige, and Willa, who has re-entered the picture.
I still haven't made a final decision about who will be chosen. I suppose it will be one of those three. I'll see how I feel about each route as the story continues to progress.