SAN JOSE, California — A mob of reporters followed the quarterback as television camera lights and live-streaming iPhones captured his every move. From the stands, fans chanted his name and reached out their arms. “Thank you!” they yelled to him. “We love you!” others screamed. Everybody wanted a peek at him, just a glimpse. Maybe they could make eye contact for the briefest of seconds, get his attention—a wave, a head nod, something. He obliged some lucky autograph-seekers, scribbling his name on footballs, notepads and hats. He spent time with a wheelchair-bound boy, posed for selfies with grown men, and hugged pompom-carrying women.