Ever since he'd locked himself in solitary confinement last time, he'd become much quieter.
The prick everyone had once disliked had disappeared, replaced by a taciturn young man. Whether in training, in daily life, or on the court, he hardly ever said a word.
Even after scoring during a game, he didn't celebrate much or let out a roar.
That was how Zhang Yu had changed.
Earlier today, he'd already made five three-pointers, but he still hadn't celebrated or roared.
Now, after sinking this crucial three, he could no longer hold back his emotions. He raised his right arm high and roared.
Wang Yi came over at once and slapped Zhang Yu's hand hard.
Then he said in Zhang Yu's ear,
"Right! When you feel like roaring, roar! Players need to let their emotions out on the court instead of bottling everything up!"
Zhang Yu nodded excitedly. "Yeah."
He seemed to have misunderstood what Wang Yi meant before.
He'd thought that being humble and keeping a low profile meant staying quiet no matter what—even when he scored in the heat of the moment, he shouldn't celebrate or roar.
Now, after Brother Yi's guidance, he finally understood that he'd been holding himself back far too much.
Players competed in a sport that was full of passion.
After a great score, you should celebrate. When you want to roar, you should roar.
France's head coach, Parker, frowned deeply.
He'd told his players to foul Zhang Yu, never expecting Zhang Yu to turn it into a three-point play.
He'd still underestimated Zhang Yu.
If Zhang Yu made this free throw, the deficit would shrink to just one point.
At that point, they couldn't afford to foul again.
After all, if they didn't foul, the other team might still miss.
But if they did