“The Martian,” expresses his desire to stay with the Yankees after learning he is part of trade discussions — and Yankees legend Derek Jeter immediately speaks out with a warning: “It’s not Domínguez’s fault — it’s the Yankees’ fault.”

Just moments before the New Year’s game at Levi’s Stadium officially began, Brock Purdy brought the entire stadium to a hush — not with a perfectly placed throw or a highlight play. On his wristband, there was a small white flower. No slogan. No announcement. Just a silent message, dedicated to a hero who had long been part of the Bay Area community — a man forever left behind in 2025. The gesture was directed toward a San Francisco firefighter who passed away while on duty on the final night of the year. He suffered a severe medical emergency while responding to an urgent call, received immediate lifesaving care from his fellow firefighters, and was rushed to the hospital, but did not survive. He died while still honoring his oath to protect the community. For San Francisco, this was not only a loss to the fire service, but a quiet sacrifice that allowed the city to step into 2026 safely. In a league where power and ego often overshadow everything else, Purdy’s silence spoke louder than any statement. The white flower — a symbol of memory, compassion, and respect — appeared under the lights of primetime football carrying meaning far beyond playbooks or the scoreboard. A member of the 49ers organization shared, “Sometimes, respect doesn’t need to be loud. It just needs to be shown.” For Purdy, it was never a performance. As the leader of the offense and one of the faces of the franchise, he understands that the field also represents values greater than football. Speaking quietly to those around him, Purdy said: “He wasn’t just protecting the community — he was part of that community. I can’t bring him back, but I want his family to know that 49ers fans are standing with them. There are moments when you have to stop and remember that people matter more than football.” When the ball was kicked off, the wristband was still there — quiet amid violent collisions and relentless pace. Scores can change. Results can be debated. But that image will remain. On a night filled with noise and spectacle, Brock Purdy reminded the entire NFL that compassion and remembrance still deserve a place on the biggest stage. And in San Francisco, that night, humanity was remembered.