The ball hit the backboard, and Sakuragi jumped up again immediately after landing.
This time, he was caught in the middle by the Kawata brothers!
"Ah!" Sakuragi roared, leaping up between the two giants!
With that ridiculously fast rebound, he snatched the backboard!
Great shot! Sakuragi made that steal so cool! Kogure didn't forget to cheer on his teammates even while on the court.
After grabbing the rebound, Sakuragi immediately glanced around the court.
The teammates switched from defense to offense, and Sannoh quickly switched from offense to defense as well. Apart from Kogure, the others had no chance to receive the ball.
He knew that if he passed the ball to Kogure, they would immediately be double-teamed, and with Kogure's skill level, he wouldn't be able to handle it in time.
He did the same thing; if he didn't pass the ball quickly after landing, the Kawata brothers would definitely teach him a lesson.
Sakuragi hesitated for a moment, but ultimately chose the tactic he knew best!
Pass the ball to Shirasawa! If you can't pass it, then wait for Shirasawa to steal it himself!
With a thud, Sakuragi landed without stopping, not even daring to pull the ball back and flick it, but instead threw it straight out from his chest, sending it soaring high into the frontcourt!
"Xiao Bai!!" he shouted.
The ball flew across half-court like a cannonball, heading straight for the basket!
"That was too high!" exclaimed the Shohoku bench. "Even for Shirasawa, that was way too high!"
But Takenori Akagi frowned, his eyes following the ball.
He, like Sakuragi —no, I should say all his teammates on the court—believed that Shirasawa could get the ball!
Although Sakuragi's ridiculous long pass had everyone on the edge of their seats, no one in the Shohoku Team panicked. This kind of unwavering trust is something that outsiders can only envy and can't learn.
As Shirasawa and Eiji Sawakita rushed to the three-point line, Sawakita stuck to him like a sticky trap, not even giving Shirasawa a chance to take a running start. Shirasawa didn't try to fight back. He glanced at the high ball heading towards the basket and immediately turned and ran towards the free-throw line. But as soon as he reached the basket, he turned back.
This shuttle run is the most grueling for defenders. Even if Sawakita is a genius, he can't shift his center of gravity back and forth in an instant, and he immediately fell behind Shirasawa by half a beat. Just as Sawakita turned around, Shirasawa made another sudden stop and shuttle back at the free throw line.
Sawakita caught a glimpse of the ball about to hit the backboard and immediately understood that Shirasawa was going to grab the rebound. He turned and chased after him. The two of them sprang up and rushed towards the basket almost at the same time, with Shirasawa having a slight advantage in position.
Clang! The basketball slammed against the backboard. Shirasawa's eyes were practically glued to the rim as he caught the rebounding ball with one hand. His jumping ability stunned the entire court; even Sawakita was half a head shorter than Shirasawa.
But as soon as Shirasawa got the ball, Sawakita pushed him towards the basket, eliminating any angle for a dunk or a throw-in. Sawakita wasn't idle in the air either, completely blocking all of Shirasawa's possible shooting angles.
Everyone thought Shirasawa was out of options, but he pulled off a clever trick.
Shirasawa pulled the ball back, twisted it ninety degrees in the air, and faced the sideline with his back to the basket. He switched the ball from his right hand to his left, and without even glancing at the basket, hooked it behind him. This was a back-to-the-basket hook shot, and not even with his dominant hand!
This shot was entirely a gamble, relying on the feel of the shot at the moment of release. The ball grazed Sawakita's fingertips and fell into the basket—if it went in, Shohoku would lead by fifteen points; if it missed, Sannoh would launch a counterattack.
Some viewers hadn't even recovered from the scene of Sakuragi taking on the twin towers when Shirasawa had already shot the ball. From Sakuragi's pass to his shot, less than three seconds had passed—that's ridiculously fast!
Some say luck plays a part in basketball; when you're in a good shooting mood, every shot goes in. Mentality, shooting touch, and luck are all essential. But luck always seems to be on the side of the team that's gaining momentum! Just like Shohoku right now, Shirasawa's casual hook shot makes the ball seem like it's on a string, obediently falling into the basket.
"They're in!!" A deafening shout erupted from the crowd!
In basketball, it's not just dunks or game-winning shots that leave a lasting impression; these unbelievable baskets can also be unforgettable, and some people might even try to imitate them... I wonder what the point of doing so would be...
Eiji Sawakita turned around and said calmly, "You're lucky."
Shirasawa smiled and shrugged, "That's real strength. Don't make excuses when you can't defend against it."
After he finished speaking, he turned and went back to the backcourt. The scoreboard had already changed to 54-39.
Shohoku extended their lead to 15 points! Sannoh's timeout couldn't stop the momentum of Shohoku's small lineup. Even their twin towers in the paint were contained during Sakuragi's possession, and no one could believe it was real.
With their small lineup, Shohoku went on a 10-0 run in just two minutes. This tactical change was incredibly effective. Shohoku players and fans were overjoyed, wishing they could continue with a 20-0 run and end the first half immediately.
But even the most idealistic dreams often fall short of reality. In the next defensive possession, Sakuragi failed to pull off another miracle. Masashi Kawata, fueled by anger, scored two points with his footwork, ending Shohoku's 10-0 run. There were less than two minutes left in the game.
Coach Anzai signaled that Miyagi had fouled and substituted Sakuragi. Sakuragi's stamina wasn't completely depleted, but his mental strength was about to collapse. Anyone would have struggled to maintain that level of focus for twenty minutes, especially since he wasn't someone who could concentrate for long periods of time.
And his calves, those two muscles were still twitching after he left the field. If he doesn't rest, he definitely won't be able to hold on for the second half.
" Sakuragi, well done!" Coach Anzai stood up and gave Sakuragi a high-five as he walked to the bench; his performance had exceeded expectations. "The next two minutes are up to your teammates," Coach Anzai said, turning his attention back to the court.
Takenori Akagi returned to the court, but the gap between him and Masashi Kawata couldn't be bridged in just two minutes of rest. Shohoku returned to their previous rhythm, with Shirasawa controlling the game. Once in position, they would either play one-on-one or pass the ball. The difference was that Shirasawa started to slow down the offensive clock.
Without Hanamichi Sakuragi Shohoku, Shohoku still caused Sannoh a lot of trouble—after all, the Kawata brothers were both on the opposing team, waiting in the wings.
Don't be fooled by how much effort these two put into dealing with Sakuragi; they'll have it much easier against Akagi.
It wasn't that Takenori Akagi weak; it was that his steps were as slow as if they were glued on.
Sakuragi was able to hold his own against Big Kawata entirely because of his incredible speed and agility, skills that Akagi lacked.
If Sakuragi were to face Akagi in a one-on-one match after the Akagi Sannoh, it would be hard to say who would win.
In the last two minutes of the first half, the two sides fought a total of eight rounds, with a pace so fast that there was no time to catch their breath.
Shohoku played it safe, slowly chipping away at the opponent's health, while Sannoh was eager to launch a decisive attack.
Shirasawa and Eiji Sawakita, these two aces, have finally clashed head-on.
In the first possession, Shirasawa drove straight to the basket and made a layup with his left hand.
Turning around, Eiji Sawakita, who had been holding back for half the game, suddenly found his rhythm, floating a mid-range shot over Shirasawa's defense and scoring two points.
"Your defense is terrible!"
"Hehe, didn't you know? That last shot was pure luck."
"That excuse was so convincing, I almost actually believed it."
"You're dreaming! I'll run you down the left flank after I've finished pressing the timer in 20 seconds. Remember that!"
The two aces are indeed very talkative; their back-and-forth banter is even more lively than the game itself.
But trash talk aside, what matters is solid strength. In the next round Shirasawa did exactly as predicted, breaking through from the left flank again.
He changed his rhythm midway through and scored two more points with a reverse layup.
Finally, as the halftime whistle blew, Eiji Sawakita was forced to launch a long-range three-pointer from well beyond half-court.
The whistle falls, the ball flies...
The halftime score was 61-50, with Shohoku leading by 11 points at the end of the first half!
This performance was nothing short of perfect, considering that Sannoh has never trailed at halftime in the last three years, let alone by double digits.
Furthermore, Sannoh changed their formation several times, with Eiji Sawakita and Masashi Kawata taking over the game at different times, but they still couldn't catch up.
" Sannoh, while not at their full potential in the first half, at least gave it their all," Moichi Taoka, offering a fair assessment from a coach's perspective.
"Eighty percent of them are still down by 11 points. If they're at full strength, they can only tie with Shohoku at best."
It wasn't just Hikoichi Aida; most people in Ryonan thought the same way.
Shohoku's lead reached a maximum of 15 points; if Sakuragi hadn't left the court in the last two minutes, they might have widened the gap even further.
"You have a misconception," Moichi Taoka said thoughtfully. "So-called 100% fighting power isn't something you can just pull out at will!"
"In other words, no one can be sure whether Sannoh has used all his strength; 80% is just my conservative estimate."
Upon hearing this, the Ryonan players' eyes widened in surprise.
When they played against Sannoh, it was obvious that Sannoh wasn't going all out— Masashi Kawata barely played, and Eiji Sawakita only started playing seriously in the second half. Even so, Sannoh still dominated them for the entire match.
Only now did they realize just how vast the gap was between them and Shohoku.
"Coach, can Shohoku win the national championship?"
Hikoichi Aida's gaze was firm; this wasn't a question, but rather an attempt to reassure Coach Taoka of his judgment.
Moichi Taoka nodded, resting his chin on his hand. "Although anything can happen on the court, it seems that Shohoku is the team closest to the trophy right now."
In the Shohoku locker room, the starting players lay sprawled on the floor, all exhausted as if their bodies were falling apart.
During halftime, I didn't even want to touch water; I just wanted to seize every second to replenish my energy.
Moichi Taoka said that Sannoh exerted 80% of its strength, but he overlooked the victor's side.
Shohoku gave it their all—everyone except Shirasawa pushed themselves to the limit, with Hanamichi Sakuragi performing exceptionally well!
This is also why Coach Anzai was so eager to widen the gap in the first half; if the score remained close into the second half, Shohoku would be in serious trouble.
If they can't maintain their form after a few rounds, they'll be crushed. Ultimately, it comes down to a huge lack of roster depth. When any starter leaves the game, the overall offense and defense will decline significantly.
"You all played well in the first half. If you can hold on for another 20 minutes, we'll be the national champions!" Coach Anzai unusually gave the players a pep talk.
At this point, conviction and ideals are more important than technical skills.
"That's right! We've come this far, and we only have these last twenty minutes left. We have to hold on!" Takenori Akagi sat up. Having only scored 4 points in the first half, he was just as exhausted as anyone else.
For him, Mitsui, and Kogure, the remaining 20 minutes were their last chance in their entire high school careers!
The difference between dreams and reality is just one step.
"How's Sakuragi?" Takenori Akagi asked. Sakuragi hadn't said a word since entering the locker room, and he was a little worried.