"Hikaru Nadaka! If you keep playing this soft, get off the court! Get your head in the game!"
The angry scolding came not from Ryonan's coach, Oofune, but from the team manager, Eri Fujisawa.
Sitting beside her, Coach Oofune looked a little embarrassed. He wanted to say something to Eri Fujisawa, to tell her not to be so impatient.
But after a moment's hesitation, Coach Oofune gave up. After all, the Fujisawa family paid his wages now. It was better not to offend their young lady.
Ryokufu High School still passed the ball to Michael Okita for an isolation play. His approach was very one-dimensional: attack the rim.
This might have been because Michael Okita's shooting was mediocre. After beating Kaede Rukawa's defense and drawing Shohoku's defenders, Michael Okita chose to pass.
The ball went to Ichiro Katsumi on the perimeter, and he raised his arms and smoothly sank a three.
There were clear traces of Hisashi Mitsui in Ichiro Katsumi's three-point shooting motion. Clearly, he had spent a long time imitating Hisashi Mitsui in middle school.
After scoring, Ichiro Katsumi clenched his fist in silent celebration, then gave Hisashi Mitsui an indifferent glance.
In Ichiro Katsumi's mind, he had long since surpassed this former idol of his.
"Hey! What's with that look, Katsumi? Are you looking down on me?"
Hisashi Mitsui quickly ran over to Ichiro Katsumi and demanded in a hostile tone.
"So what if I am, Mitsui?" Ichiro Katsumi had no intention of indulging his senior, either, and continued bluntly.
"You haven't played in over two years. How much gas do you even have left in the tank?
"I went to watch Shohoku's earlier games. Honestly, I was pretty disappointed in you, Mitsui. If it weren't for your teammates, Shohoku wouldn't even have made the final four."