However, this approach won't work against Sannoh. From the very first second the whistle blows, every second must be played with everything on your hands. Shohoku not losing to Sannoh refers to Sannoh at full strength, and it must be Shohoku at full Shohoku. So from the very first second, all five starters have to floor their accelerators, otherwise relying solely on Shirasawa to carry the team is too risky.
After all, Shirasawa will most likely face a double attack from Eiji Sawakita and Kazunari Fukatsu, which is practically an open secret.
"Senior Anzai, do you have a clear idea of what to expect for the match the day after tomorrow?"
Moichi Taoka sip of his drink. To be honest, if Shohoku and Ryonan were switched places, he wouldn't be as carefree as Coach Anzai, daring to let the players run wild while he himself went out drinking.
" Taoka, how do you compare Shohoku and Sannoh?"
Coach Anzai rarely orders a glass of shochu, and if his Mrs. Anzai sees him doing so, she'll surely give him a scolding. But a little bit is enough for his body. This question is best posed to Moichi Taoka one in the world who has thoroughly understood Sannoh and Shohoku. After all, both of these teams defeated Ryonan this year.
"I think... Senior Anzai, to be frank, Sannoh Industrial High School is stronger overall."
Moichi Taoka put down his glass and changed the subject, "But Shohoku isn't without its advantages. You know your team best; how much potential they can unleash is the key to victory."
Moichi Taoka's ideas are basically the same as Coach Anzai's. Shohoku is a team that is very dependent on form, and what's worse, they have no room for substitutions to make adjustments. Whether they are in good form or not, they have to stay on the court and rely entirely on themselves to adjust. And this is precisely what makes Sannoh so scary; their bench depth is frighteningly deep.
If Moichi Taoka were to analyze things coldly, he would vote for Sannoh Industrial High School. But those guys from Shohoku are a team that can never be measured by conventional standards; their unpredictability is too great. Take Hanamichi Sakuragi, for example. He might be a rookie full of flaws, or he might become a dominant top power forward in the next second. No one can say for sure until the very moment of the game.
"Yes, I've been thinking about how to get everyone in top form from the start. I believe the key to victory lies in the opening."
For a fleeting moment, Coach Anzai's gaze hardened like a rock. A strong start was Shohoku's number one strategy.
Moichi Taoka strongly agreed, stating that Ryonan stemmed from their opening game. They were down 7-0 at the start, and the deficit never narrowed, because no matter how he changed his tactics, Goro Domoto could immediately counter them. In terms of tactical awareness, Sannoh was in a league of its own; their execution was unmatched even by Kainan. If Shohoku also dug themselves a hole at the start, filling it would be an incredibly difficult task.
"I think Shohoku needs to fight hard from the start, and Miyagi is the key."
Moichi Taoka finger. "If I were Goro Domoto, I would definitely target Minoru Matsumoto. That guy's strength is no less than Mitsui's. Miyagi his small frame, would suffer greatly if he went up against him, unless..."
He paused abruptly, leaving the rest of his sentence unsaid.
As a junior colleague, Moichi Taoka felt that saying too much would be presumptuous, and that it was enough to understand things in one's own mind.
Moreover, what he's thinking about might not actually apply to Shohoku, let alone be practical.
If they come up with another bad idea, that would be incredibly embarrassing.
Coach Anzai seemed to understand, nodding slightly and raising the corners of his mouth in response.
Moichi Taoka man of good judgment, which he quite likes.
The two old men raised their glasses, clinked them together lightly, and that was the end of it.
However, the conversation at the dinner table couldn't revolve around the game all the time, but Moichi Taoka made a few very practical points, which gave Coach Anzai a better grasp of the situation.
Meanwhile, the two teams inside the guesthouse were also enjoying their meal.
Perhaps it was because the two captains, Akagi and Uozumi, were like brothers that the people below them also became both enemies and friends.
They fought tooth and nail on the field, with blades flashing and blood flowing freely.
But once they're off the court, hey, they really have that brotherly team spirit. They'll argue fiercely, but they somehow manage to get along well.
The dinner between Shohoku and Ryonan was quite extravagant; they practically brought back every kind of delicious food they could find in Hiroshima.
The table alone was crammed with two large sheets of paper; it was so big it almost made your eyes pop out.
Anzai fried chicken was definitely a must-have; these two tables of hearty dishes made everyone's mouths water.
This time, it wasn't the wealthy Shirasawa who paid for it, nor was it Kaede Rukawa or Sendoh who had some family background, and not a single penny of the team's funds was used.
It was Uozumi who took care of everything by himself! No one could stop him.
He was just that stubborn; he insisted on doing his part to show his appreciation, as if to put a final period to his life.
He didn't want people to remember him well or how generous he was; he simply wanted everyone to be happy.
He really didn't know how to begin, as if he were acting guilty and needed to lay the groundwork first.
With those lively guys from Shohoku, he actually felt much more relaxed.
Today, he's going to make that final decision and say goodbye cleanly and decisively.
In Uozumi's eyes, every teammate, whether a starter or a substitute, is a brother.
He also believed that everyone genuinely treated him like an older brother.
Since we're all brothers, the words "saying goodbye to basketball" carry a completely different weight.
At the start of the dinner, thanking Uozumi became the dominant theme.
Watching everyone eat with gusto and chat animatedly, Uozumi felt a mix of emotions. He wished time could freeze, allowing this joyful moment to last a little longer.
Kaede Rukawa and Sakuragi sat facing each other. The two had been bickering ever since they met, and several times they were about to jump up and fight, but the people next to them held them back firmly.
However, everyone knows that they can't really get serious. Back at Base Camp, Fujima wouldn't even bother to give them a second glance. This is probably their unique way of communicating, something others can't imitate.
With Sendoh and Shirasawa sitting side by side, the atmosphere here was much more harmonious; at least they could talk normally.
"That Kitazawa guy is really keen on you. I reckon he'll come after you as soon as the competition starts."
Sendoh popped a piece of sushi into his mouth, chewing slowly with a smile on his face.
"That's perfect; it makes the game much more interesting."
Shirasawa also twitched the corners of his mouth, looking completely calm. Of all the Shohoku, he was the least nervous. Not only was he not afraid of beating Sawakita, he was actually quite looking forward to it. From the day he opened his eyes in this world, he knew that sooner or later he would have to face off against Sawakita, the ultimate boss on the high school basketball court. For this reason, he had never stopped, always moving forward at his own pace, faster and faster.
"Sigh... it's really hard to say who's stronger between you two." Sendoh sighed softly.
"Me." Shirasawa's lips curled into a smile, his confidence practically overflowing.
"Don't you even think about it?"
Sendoh chuckled, "Alright, I hope next time we meet, you'll be the number one high school student in the country."
As they were talking, Uozumi suddenly stood up and coughed, drawing everyone's attention.
"That..."
"Since we're all friends Shohoku today, I have something I'd like to say to everyone."
Uozumi licked his dry lips, feeling as if a stone was stuck in his throat, and it took him a long time to squeeze out this sentence.
"Why have you suddenly become so hesitant and timid?"
Takenori Akagi snorted dismissively.
Uozumi didn't argue this time; he just let out a long breath, as if he were about to remove a huge weight from his chest.
"First of all, I have to tell you that I'm not participating in this year's Winter Selection Tournament."
"My last game with Ryonan is over today."
As soon as the words were spoken, the entire room seemed to lose its air, becoming deathly still.
Especially for the Ryonan team members, some had vaguely guessed that Uozumi might not play in the Winter Tournament, but when it was officially confirmed, their hearts still skipped a beat, and they couldn't accept it at all. The important thing wasn't the Winter Selection Tournament at all; the important thing was that this was a farewell to their captain. They simply couldn't accept that Uozumi's last game representing Ryonan would end in a loss.
"Team leader..."
Hikoichi Aida's eyes instantly reddened. This emotion seemed contagious, and many of the Ryonan team members couldn't bear to look embarrassed.
Uozumi forcefully pressed his hand down towards everyone, afraid that if he waited any longer, all the courage he had painstakingly mustered would dissipate.
"There's one more thing, but it has nothing to do with the team; it was my own arrangement."
Everyone looked over, bewildered and full of questions. Sendoh seemed to have already guessed what he was going to say, shook his head, sighed, and looked at him with regret.
"I, Uozumi, am saying goodbye to basketball for good. Once I return to Kanagawa, I'll leave Ryonan and go home to inherit the family business."
"If you all still remember me as a friend, come find me at the store from now on. Every single one of you here today, I promise I won't charge you a single penny!"
In the end, Uozumi laughed first, but there was too much inexplicable and unclear content in that smile.
Uozumi, but beneath the smile lines lay a knife-like pain.
The silence in the room was like a stone, so heavy it made it hard to breathe.
This decision was so sudden, it felt like being hit on the back. He was still battling it out in the national tournament that morning, his sweat still damp, and now he was saying he was giving up completely. Not only were the Ryonan players stunned, but even the Shohoku players were wide-eyed.
The meal went from being lively and bustling to being completely silent.
However, Uozumi was kind enough to hold back until everyone had slowed down their eating before speaking. Otherwise, these two tables of hearty dishes would probably have had to be taken back untouched.
Kogure stared at the soup in his bowl, a bitter feeling welling up inside him. He might not be able to make a living from basketball in the future, but it was different. He could go to college and continue playing, even if he spent his days on the bench, at least he could still touch a ball. But Uozumi's severing of his ties with basketball was like cutting himself and basketball in two.
From now on, all I'll be holding in my hand is a kitchen knife.
Takenori Akagi's face was so black it looked like ink could be squeezed out, but he didn't utter a single word. He was seething with rage, wanting to curse, wanting to slam his fist on the table, but all the words he wanted to say were swallowed back. Uozumi chose to live a practical life, what could he say? A person has to stand firm first before they can talk about dreams. Uozumi a man who lived more practically than anyone else.