Gritting his teeth, he followed Wang Yi's pace and practiced over and over. Even when he fell to the floor, he got right back up, brushed the dust off himself, and kept going.
Bryce worked on backcourt connection. At first, he kept making mistakes, throwing the ball away and running to the wrong spots.
Wang Yi glanced over and called out, "Stop!"
Then he walked over, picked up the ball, and stood among them to demonstrate in person: how to move without the ball, how to communicate with a look, and how to make a good pass under defensive pressure.
He didn't move quickly, but his explanations were practical. He broke everything down and taught them piece by piece.
Bryce listened attentively and practiced just as earnestly. Gradually, he made fewer mistakes, and his passing grew smoother.
Aiton and Akur worked on the interior. Aiton was getting older and couldn't run as much.
So Wang Yi adjusted the tactics and taught him how to establish position in the post, set picks and rolls for his teammates, and grab rebounds.
Akur practiced help defense and switching over to assist on defense. The two of them worked together with growing chemistry.
The lights in the training hall stayed on from afternoon until night. It had long since grown dark outside, but practice inside still hadn't stopped.
No one complained of being tired. No one grumbled. Everyone was holding on to their determination.
That drive came from Wang Yi, and from deep within themselves. It was a hunger for a championship and a commitment to the team.
During a break, the players sat along the sidelines. Some drank water, others wiped away sweat. No one spoke, but they all kept sneaking glances at Wang Yi.
Wang Yi sat on that folding chair in