Giant Cat Basketball was great to watch. It pursued individual cat prowess to the extreme, and the way they played was utterly cat-like.
So-called cat-like meant [solo enough].
One-on-one was no one guarding the cat; one-on-two was a wide-open look; one-on-three was an open look; when four cats closed in—[Cat Blood Horse Heaven Technique! Even a forced shot goes in!]—if it went in, they became a little hero demanding credit. If it missed, they turned into Rambo Cat and activated red-hot mode: [Meow aoo aoo! This cat drew four cats! What are the other cats doing?]
A cat whose emotional intelligence wasn't in her tail might say, "Cat's just saying, maybe they surrounded you because the ball was in your paws."
A more honest one would say, "Meow ao, the cats were watching you shoot!"
The former was fine. The latter led straight to infighting.
They played solo, and possession depended entirely on fighting for it. As things stood, even with so-called [star cats], their individual ability found it hard to surpass that of the other Giant Cat Lamps. Things would probably only change after major reforms in the future.
"The Bad Cat Team has claimed this regular-season victory with a huge 134–112 lead. And we can see today's MVP: Cat Lin Kaluoya! An outstanding 48 points, 0 assists, and 6 rebounds. Another day without assists—very Giant Cat! Meow hahahahaha!"
[Holy crap, solo!]
[Only with Cat Han's commentary did I learn what the ten Giant Cats on the court and those two Giant Cat coaches were called...]
[Isn't that way too solo? I don't remember anyone in Witch World being this solo!]
[Then sister, you clearly haven't watched the old Witch team tournaments—the ones where team fights were all about assists.]
[Sis is a little poorly informed. Do you