On the open-air terrace, the breeze was gentle, the view was wide, and it opened up the mind along with it.
Smith did not shy away and admitted frankly, "Yes, I know I am a problem."
Lance couldn't help but laugh. "If all problems were as self-aware as you, they would be a lot easier to solve."
Smith gently shook his head. "Not necessarily."
"If I refuse to compromise, I will be a problem for the team and for the players."
"As it stands, my salary is already squeezing the cap, but my goal is to continue increasing my annual salary. The team's cap space is definitely going to be under pressure. The team might not be able to fill gaps in the free-agent market—my God, our secondary really needs some reinforcements."
"It could even mean that because my salary takes up so much space, the team might have to cut other important players currently on the roster."
Right now, the consequences of Veach selecting two first-round picks last year were becoming evident.
Normally, rookies should represent a salary cap haven, freeing up space for the team to maneuver; but with two first-rounders on the roster, the salary suddenly spiked, and the team's operational space was visibly restricted.
Then, there was the Super Bowl effect.
Right now, Smith wanted to increase his salary. But was it only Smith? Didn't the other players have thoughts about this too?
After all, players were workers too. They wanted raises; they wanted their bonuses. That was a basic right for everyone.
With the existence of a hard salary cap, it meant that Veach would have to make some tough choices.
"Of course, there are other options."
"I could forgo a big contract, stay with the team, even take a pay cut."
"But, Rookie, I want to be selfish this time."
"I want to fight for a big contract. I want to fight for something for myself. I want to prove that there's still gas in my tank. I want to continue playing on the field, striving for victories and competing for championships. I want to prove my worth."
"I'm greedy. I also have ambition."
"Honestly, I'm not as kind as I appear."
Admitting his greed and selfishness openly like that didn't seem as hard as he thought. Smith showed a slightly bitter smile.
Lance gently shook his head. "No, Captain, true greed wouldn't admit that. It wouldn't reflect, wouldn't struggle, and wouldn't sit down with a teammate and honestly confess its ambitions. When you choose to face yourself with honesty, that's already a form of self-affirmation and pursuit."
"You're choosing to believe in your value. You're choosing to believe you still have the power to keep running, to keep fighting, and to keep breaking through."
"That's different."
True selfishness wouldn't make a special trip to Miami to sit down with Lance and have an open-hearted talk. True selfishness would refuse to answer calls from the team manager or teammates. It would have its agent and lawyer play the bad guy, pushing everyone away and chasing after profit, even at the expense of the team.
Just a few simple words left Smith stunned.
He stared blankly at Lance, his emotions turbulent, then his face broke into a somewhat restrained smile, and he unconsciously adjusted his posture.
"Thank you," Smith said softly.
To cover up his awkwardness, Smith didn't pause, not even giving Lance a chance to respond. He took a deep breath and kept talking.
"So, the best choice is not to let the team suffer."
"I choose to leave proactively, go to another team with cap space, and fight for that big contract. Then, I'll prove my abilities there."
"Patrick... he's ready."
"You're his best friend; you should know this better than anyone. Maybe he still has some flaws, still needs to learn and grow, but with you by his side, those last few issues won't be problems."
"Defending the championship... it's hard, harder than you can imagine. But at the very least, I can create some space for the team."
"Maybe, that's my final gift to Kansas City."
"Heh, a gift that's not really a gift."
By the end, his voice grew softer, turning into a mutter.
But only for a moment—Smith looked back up at Lance, his shy smile shining with unprecedented radiance, as if he had finally found his purpose. He even seemed a bit excited, a bit thrilled, as if he were itching to take action. From inside out, he radiated a kind of glowing happiness.
In Lance's eyes, it felt like a moth flying into a flame—
He wasn't as honest as Smith.
In fact, from the very beginning, Smith had been right.
Faced with Smith's first question, even sitting across from each other face to face, Lance hadn't chosen Smith. That already revealed his heart.
Deep down, Lance had chosen Mahomes.
But he didn't have the courage to say it to Smith's face, so he danced around it.
Now, looking at Smith, Lance's mouth filled with bitterness.
"What about the price?"
"Captain, what about the price?"
Lance asked.
"The price is that you become the bad guy. You become the traitor who leaves Kansas City, abandoning the team right after winning the Super Bowl for the sake of money. The team that gave you a second chance, that revived your career—you turn your back on them, becoming enemies. The next time you return to Kansas City, it might just be a chorus of boos."
Smith's eyes sparkled. "But... they're not wrong, are they?"
Lance was speechless.
Smith burst into laughter. "Rookie, it's rare to see you at a loss for words. Haha!"
Lance was both amused and exasperated. Now really wasn't the time for jokes, was it?
Lance took a deep breath. "And, you just said you were greedy, that you have ambition. But transferring to another team doesn't guarantee competitiveness; it doesn't guarantee you'll be a Super Bowl contender. You might even experience a slump. If you want to keep fighting for a championship, staying is the right choice."
Smith looked at Lance calmly. "What, you don't have faith in me? You don't believe I can transform a team, turn it into a Super Bowl contender?"
Lance: ... "I believe building a Super Bowl-winning team isn't that easy. It's not just about the players but also the general manager, the coaching staff, and everything else. Like running backs, quarterbacks need the right coach and the right system to truly shine. Football isn't just about brute strength—you know that better than I do."
Smith was able to find a second wind in Kansas City largely because of Reid, just like Foles under Pederson.
But there was only one Reid.
Smith chuckled. "So close, you almost ran out of words. But you dodged it at the last second. Damn."
Lance was speechless.
Seeing Lance's expression, Smith's mood lifted. "That's what I like about you. It's what everyone on the team likes about you. You're smart, but you still manage to stay sincere."
That's why, when Smith stood at the crossroads of his career, with countless friends to talk to, the first person that came to his mind was still Lance.
It was a matter of trust, and also admiration.
Indeed, he was right—Lance did not let him down.
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Powerstones?
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