After Wang Yi sank the free throw, the score had reached 51–0.
That left the Philippines just three seconds to attack.
Under China's full-court pressure, the Philippines couldn't even make it past half court in those three seconds, let alone score.
The first quarter finally ended. In ten minutes, China Team had scored 51 points.
The Philippines had gone ten minutes without a basket or a single point.
On all eight sides of the enormous screen hanging beneath the center of the arena's domed ceiling, huge blood-red numbers were displayed:
51–0.
That 51–0 seemed like an undisguised taunt aimed at the Philippines—and a retort to their head coach, Reyes.
The broadcast camera lingered on Reyes once again.
As he watched his players leave the court, his face, which had been green with anger, had turned red—deep red, like pig's liver.
He was now absolutely furious.
At 20–0, he had been helpless. At 30–0, disappointed. At 40–0, despairing. And now, at 51–0, he was furious.
His anger showed that he had reached the depths of despair.
When people were utterly hopeless, despair could turn into anger.
As the furious Reyes watched his players come off the court, they all had their heads bowed and shuffled along like old men nearing the end of their lives.
His anger flared, and he roared:
"Get your damn heads in the game!"
"Why are you all walking around with those sour faces? You think I want to look at those sour faces?"
The other players glanced up at their coach. His face was red as pig's liver, and his eyes seemed to spit fire.
One by one, they lowered their heads again, not daring to say a word.
Only Clarkson spoke to Reyes, his voice full of helplessness and despair:
"Coach, we can't do this."