During the timeout, Wang Yi rose from the bench.
Unlike most coaches, who paced constantly along the sideline and kept shouting instructions to the players on the court,
he instead sat as if he rarely got the chance to sit down, as though his butt were glued to the bench and he could barely stand.
Only during timeouts did he get up to say a few words to the players.
Now he greeted the players coming off the court, patting each of them on the shoulder or arm and high-fiving them in encouragement.
But why did Wang Yi's encouragement sound more and more off?
"Mane, that foul just now was beautiful. You're becoming my idol!"
"Danny, that foul gave me one hell of a shock. You were born to foul!"
"Kid, that foul of yours opened my eyes. I'm going to frame a photo of it and hang it in my living room, so every guest who comes over can see it."
Wang Yi's words of encouragement left all the players wearing the same bewildered expression.
Mane raised a hand. "Um... boss, are you praising us? Because it sounds like you're insulting us."
Wang Yi wrapped an arm around Mane's shoulder and vigorously ruffled his head of tight curls.
"Our theme today is fouling. Once you're back out there, whenever you see Arthur about to shoot, foul him hard. If anyone else has a sure basket, foul Arthur hard then, too. Got it?"
Mane nodded. "Boss, you can count on me!"
Wang Yi knew full well that this kind of game was hard to watch. No fan wanted to see constant fouling.
But they had no choice. The gap in the teams' strength was too great.
Especially now that King Arthur had evolved past the limitations of the Three Towers.