The game was a shootout from the jump. Every time Lamar broke a tackle and sprinted for twenty yards, the Strikeout chat box on the right side of the screen exploded into a frenzy of emojis and "LFG!" from users with names like BucsFan88 and RavensNest . When the Bucs fired back with a deep bomb to the end zone, the chat turned into a wall of "RIGGED" and "TOUCHDOWN" in all caps.

He cracked his knuckles and clicked the link. The page bloomed with a chaotic tapestry of flashing banners—ads for VPNs he didn't need and mobile games featuring busty Vikings. With the practiced hand of a surgeon, Leo navigated the "Close" buttons, those tiny, invisible X’s that moved like ghosts. One wrong click and he’d be redirected to a site claiming his computer had seventeen viruses; one right click, and he’d have the 50-yard line in high definition. Click.

Midway through the second quarter, the feed froze. The screen turned into a mosaic of purple and red pixels. Leo didn't panic. He knew the drill. He refreshed the page, ducked under two more pop-up ads, and switched to 'Stream 3'.