Takenori Akagi is certainly more athletic, but whether he can stop Big Kawata is anyone's guess.
He had no choice but to Big Kawata take the shot. It wasn't that Kawata had a good shot, it was that his accuracy was ridiculously high! After all, he started as a guard and worked his way up to center. But then again, if Big Kawata were still playing guard, he probably wouldn't have been anything special. But putting all that skill into a center makes a completely different story.
Akagi reluctantly followed to the high post, knowing full well that his offensive and defensive capabilities would be greatly reduced once he left the paint.
Kazunari Fukatsu held the ball firmly, but to be honest, it wasn't easy for him to pass it out. Shirasawa's defense was impenetrable, making it hard for him to breathe. Only Eiji Sawakita had ever given him this feeling.
Any choice could be wrong.
However, Kazunari Fukatsu is not just a passer; his scoring ability is equally formidable. Since he can't find an easy passing opportunity, he'll create one himself! He uses a series of crossover steps to shake off Shirasawa, then suddenly dives down and drives hard.
At the same time, Eiji Sawakita circled around the baseline and crossed in the opposite direction with Fukatsu.
Fukatsu's powerful drive instantly turned into a drive-and-pass, and the ball was passed out the moment his body made contact with Shirasawa.
But the moment the ball left his hand, Fukatsu regretted it!
A figure suddenly appeared in the passing lane. "Fast" doesn't even begin to describe it—he didn't run; he lunged forward with a final push! Like Cheetah hunting its prey, by the time you noticed him, the fatal blow was already upon you.
That's right, in the blink of an eye, Ryota Miyagi!
Eiji Sawakita was fast enough, but Miyagi was even faster. Faster than ever! He perfectly combined explosiveness and speed, truly darting around like Cheetah. His final steal was a reckless, gambler's tackle. If he succeeded, it was beautiful, impressive, precise, and ruthless. But what if he failed? He couldn't stop, was out of position, and the game became five against four – then he was the culprit. If he had a strict coach, he'd most likely be substituted and have to reflect on his performance.
Ryota Miyagi undoubtedly succeeded in the former category! Coach Anzai wasn't the strict type either; this gamble-like approach actually pleased him. Playing with style is far more effective than being meticulous.
Moreover, this is precisely the irreplaceable role that Ryota Miyagi plays on the court— the Red Ghost of Shohoku!
Today, this Ghost no longer waits for an opportunity to strike; it bares its fangs right from the start!
Whoosh~
Miyagi's diving tackle was so powerful that by the time everyone reacted, he had already reached midfield! Kazunari Fukatsu with regret, but it was too late to make amends. He could only place his hopes on Eiji Sawakita.
Miyagi is in the lead, with Eiji Sawakita hot on his heels in a two-person sprint race.
" Miyagi!!"
On the sidelines, Kiminobu Kogure glared and roared, but their speed was so fast that he didn't have time to shout anything like "Beautiful!" or "Charge!" Miyagi's voice carried the weight of the moment.
Shirasawa also surged ahead, giving Miyagi another option and making Eiji Sawakita more wary. The others simply couldn't catch up with these three.
In an instant, Miyagi rushed into the three-point line, with Sawakita two steps behind and Shirasawa behind him, also two steps behind. The three players were almost at the same speed. Of course, this was because Miyagi was running with the ball; otherwise, the top two players in the country would have had a hard time keeping up with him.
Speed is the weapon that Ryota Miyagi is 168 centimeters tall, relies on to survive on the court.
Step, step.
After crossing the free-throw line, Miyagi took the ball and started moving, those two steps were incredibly fast! It was as if he was carrying a canister of nitrous oxide and suddenly released it! In an instant, he pulled away from Sawakita by half a body length, causing the audience to collectively gasp in surprise. Those with poor eyesight could hardly see a blurry afterimage.
Miyagi stood up in two steps, and the basketball quickly left his hand. He didn't use the Shirasawa behind him to deceive him, didn't make any feints, and showed no intention of passing. He was going to go head-to-head with Eiji Sawakita! He wanted to decide the outcome with his most confident speed!
Sawakita had no more reservations. He suddenly leaped into the air, using his height and jumping ability to quickly close the distance.
The sound of the basketball going through the net almost overlapped with the sound of Eiji Sawakita slapping the backboard.
Sawakita's entire forearm was above the backboard; he was just a hair's breadth away from the ball being stuck on the backboard. But Miyagi, this 168cm guard, managed to arm-wrestle with the nation's top high school player using only his speed, and he actually succeeded.
The entire audience erupted in cheers. Everyone understood now: this was Miyagi's secret weapon for surviving among monsters—absolute speed.
" Miyagi! That was a great shot!"
Kiminobu Kogure sprang up from the bench, roaring until his voice cracked. The Shohoku fans in the stands screamed along with him, the cheers rising in waves. Stealing the ball from Kazunari Fukatsu in the nation, and then going head-to-head with Eiji Sawakita, the number one player in the nation, Miyagi's performance in this play was textbook material.
Hikoichi Aida slapped his thigh excitedly. "That's amazing! Miyagi -senpai is simply the benchmark for short players! A benchmark indeed!"
He wasn't tall himself, and seeing Miyagi do it made him feel incredibly smug. Anyone who dared to say that short people couldn't play basketball, he'd shove this video in their face.
However, Moichi Taoka saw it differently; he shook his head.
" Hikoichi, Miyagi isn't just a short guy; he has things that others don't," Taoka said gravely. "His speed is unmatched nationwide, in a league of its own. If you think you can do it just because he can, you're sorely mistaken."
He paused, glancing at the people on the field. "These kids, every single one of them is a prodigy. What do you think the national finals are? Anyone you pick out is a monster. Underestimating anyone will be a huge mistake."
On the field, Miyagi turned around and bumped hands with Shirasawa.
"You've made a wasted trip," Miyagi said.
Shirasawa raised an eyebrow and replied with a smile, "What right do you have to tell me that?"
Miyagi immediately understood, turned to look at Eiji Sawakita, and said bluntly, "Thank you for your hard work, you're number one in the country."
These words were barbed and pointed. Miyagi was unconvinced. He wasn't jealous of his teammates' reputations, but he didn't accept a single word of the outside world's evaluation of him. In this final, he wanted to help his team win and also establish his own reputation.
After hearing Eiji Sawakita's lips slowly curled up, and that wicked aura came over him.
Yes, that's the feeling. For him, basketball should be like this—trash-talking, competing with each other, neither side willing to give in, and then playing like there's no tomorrow. Winning against a timid opponent is no fun; the most satisfying thing is to beat the stubborn guy to a pulp.
"Hahaha, you only scored one goal, what are you so smug about?" Sawakita laughed, but his eyes had already changed, revealing a fierce glint.
Offense and defense transition, Sannoh gains possession.
Kazunari Fukatsu dribbled the ball forward, his face expressionless, but his heart was burning with anger. Giving up a turnover at the start of the game was a disgrace for him. He had underestimated Miyagi, or rather, he had completely disregarded Miyagi. But Kazunari Fukatsu wouldn't fall into the same trap twice.
That's what he said, but when Shirasawa's defense was placed in front of him, he still felt his scalp tingle.
In the last play, Sawakita had an opportunity, but more importantly, Shirasawa had pushed him to his limits. What would happen if he didn't pass? He himself wasn't sure. Scoring? Most likely not. He now fully understood why Dai Moroboshi and Chiba would rather call for a pick-and-roll to avoid Shirasawa, otherwise they would really be suffocated on the court. Only Maki Shinichi Maki, that brute, dared to charge in head-on.
Kainan didn't even make it to the national competition, they deserve it.
"A--Qiu!"
Shinichi Maki, sitting in the audience, suddenly sneezed. He rubbed his nose. "Who the hell insulted me?"
Kazunari Fukatsu protected the ball at the top of the arc, and Shohoku's man-to-man marking was very tight in the half-court, showing no slack on defense. Miyagi also in a comfortable position today, matched up against the equally short Satoshi Ichinokura. Takenori Akagi was once again pulled to the high post by Masashi Kawata, while Sakuragi Masahiro Nobe battle with Nobe Masahiro under the basket. The most troubled player was Hisashi Mitsui, who had to entangle Eiji Sawakita; Shohoku's defensive spearhead depended on him.
Shirasawa didn't focus on guarding Sawakita. Shohoku's plan was to use Shirasawa's one-on-one defense to shut down the opposing point guard, Kazunari Fukatsu, thus crippling Sannoh's playmaking. So far, this strategy seems to be working. It won't be so easy for Sawakita to shake off Mitsui.
Moichi Taoka, watching from the sidelines, clearly saw that after two rounds, Shohoku was far superior to Ryonan. The gap wasn't this dramatic back in the prefectural tournament; Shohoku's growth came entirely from the off-season and the trials of the "group of death." A smooth ride isn't necessarily a good thing.
But to say that Sannoh is only this much, Moichi Taoka would never believe it.
" Masashi Kawata has the ball!"
Hikoichi Aida's shout brought Taoka back to his senses. Everyone's eyes were immediately fixed on the right forty-five degrees.
Masashi Kawata received the ball high up the court and immediately pulled Takenori Akagi.
Uozumi didn't receive this treatment back then. In the game between Ryonan and Sannoh, Big Kawata barely played for more than a few minutes, and basically never had the ball for one-on-one play. Uozumi only experienced his defense from beginning to end; Masashi Kawata didn't exert any effort on the offensive end at all. This later became a minor regret for Uozumi.
Now it's Takenori Akagi's turn.
Big Kawata held the ball, his expression as relaxed as if he were strolling through a market. Akagi's brows furrowed, his arms outstretched, but his heart was pounding. What he hated most was being pulled out from under the basket. He had faced agile inside players before, but those guys were at best "a little faster than an average center," completely different from Big Kawata.
The player in front of me is even more agile than some defenders. His ball control skills are the same.
Akagi's only advantage is his extra three centimeters in height—a negligible three centimeters. Otherwise, Masashi Kawata's hexagonal frame completely overshadows him.
Big Kawata made a move.
First, he tentatively lunged to the left. Akagi didn't dare to gamble, and just as he shifted his weight, Masashi Kawata suddenly darted out from the right. Akagi desperately pulled himself back, barely managing to keep up. The two collided, and Akagi felt like he'd been punched in the chest. Then, Masashi Kawata scooped up the ball, turned, and swept it away cleanly, leaving Akagi completely behind.
Masashi Kawata stood up.
Just then, a loud roar erupted, and a red shadow slashed down from mid-air.
Takenori Akagi roared the moment he was beaten. He had expected this; he knew it perfectly well. He knew that he was half-dead once he reached a high level. He had watched Masashi Kawata's game videos countless times and could recite his routines with his eyes closed. But the problem was, even if he anticipated it, his body couldn't keep up. That was the difference in raw skill; there was nothing more to say.
It's the same principle as with Shinichi Maki. Everyone in Japan knows that his crossover dribble is a charade, purely a psychological comfort created by his aggressive forward runs. But so what? Shinichi Maki tells you he's going to run you over from the right, and even if you're prepared, you still can't stop him.
Masashi Kawata is just like that at center. And he has more tricks up his sleeve than Shinichi Maki.