I Just Wanted to Put the Ball in the Basket, but There Was a Chimpanzee in the Way. Why Was It So Hard?
Takenori Akagi nodded, his tone unusually agreeable. "You're right this time."
The Cheetah Team are still the same as always, playing a fast-paced game with a very aggressive offense; even Alex will be scrambling for offensive rebounds.
The Chariot Country's height didn't give them much of an advantage on defense— the Cheetah' players were incredibly athletic, and they dominated second-chance points.
Alex, as the main offensive player, not only drove to the basket and scored, but also provided assists, scoring a team-high 26 points.
This spectacle gave fans the feeling of witnessing a top-tier individual show after a national tournament.
Hoffmann of the Chariot Country scored the second-highest 23 points between the two teams, with nearly 20 of those points coming from mid-range and long-range shots. His shooting percentage was frighteningly high; it wasn't as exciting to watch, but it was absolutely breathtaking.
The halftime whistle blew, and the scoreboard showed Cheetahs leading the Cheetah 51-45, a temporary Chariot 6 points.
When Kogure leaned in to ask a question, Shirasawa shook his head, his tone resolute.
"There is absolutely no possibility of reversing this."
Although the two teams were neck and neck in the first half and the game seemed evenly matched, the 6-point difference was like a loose band-aid in such a high-intensity contest, it could fall off at any moment.
But as the saying goes, laymen watch the show, while experts see the details. Kogure asked questions, but he knew exactly what was going on. He just wanted to find an excuse to chat for a bit—after all, they would soon be going their separate ways, and no one wanted to listen to his rambling.
In the first half, the Chariot Team kept pace with the Cheetah thanks to Hoffmann's performance, but the turning point had already been laid. In the final minutes of the first half, the Cheetah suddenly changed their defensive strategy, assigning their second-in-command, Robinson, to closely guard Hoffmann, and the effect was immediate and significant.
Good defense is never built by simply blocking shots. A player who averages five blocks per game is not necessarily the best defender. Take Masashi Kawata of Sannoh, for example. He didn't get many outstanding blocks in his three years of high school league, but he was renowned as the best center on both offense and defense.
When Akagi was matched up against him, he even had a hard time getting a decent shot off. It wasn't that he was afraid to shoot, but he knew as soon as he raised his hand that the ball was bound to miss, so he might as well leave the opportunity for a fast break.
Robinson's defense was exactly like that, especially since he was guarding the tall, strong, and accurate shooter Hoffmann. In the last few minutes, Hoffmann's stellar performance suddenly went cold, making only one of his three shots, as if he were welded to the three-point line.
In this situation, can the Chariot turn the tide? Unless the Cheetah surrender voluntarily. From the moment Robinson switched to guard Hoffmann, the Cheetah had the upper hand. They didn't want anyone to achieve instant fame over them. Hoffmann's moment of glory was almost over.
Shirasawa suddenly called out to Sakuragi, " Sakuragi, in the second half, you need to keep a close eye on Robinson and learn how to defend him."
Sakuragi frowned and scratched his head, "That big black guy?"
Sakuragi didn't talk back, which surprised Kogure and the others—usually he would have been furious and complaining, but this time he was surprisingly well-behaved. Kogure smiled, feeling much more at ease; this kid from Shohoku hadn't trained for nothing.
As soon as the halftime whistle blew, both teams returned to the court. The Cheetah seemed like completely different people, their eyes filled with fighting spirit. I bet the coach gave them a good scolding in the locker room. Leading by 6 points at halftime, anyone would be anxious, especially since they wanted to win, not just waste time.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do. This game used the rules of the Cherry Blossom Country High School League, a four-quarter system. This confused the foreign teams who were used to other formats, who thought that the 20 minutes in the first half were just a warm-up and didn't count. This was especially true for the Cheetah Team, who felt that they had been scolded in the locker room for nothing.
The Cheetah got possession again in the second half. Robinson was noticeably more aggressive than in the first half. Alex drove into the paint, tossed the ball up, and Robinson sprang up like a spring, catching it in mid-air and exploding! The Chariot Team' faces turned green—wasn't this blatant provocation? The arena erupted, and the battle between the two teams officially began!
The Chariot Team fed Hoffmann the ball for four consecutive rounds, but Robinson stuck to him like glue. Hoffmann only made one of his four shots, hitting the rim with the other three, thus unlocking the "Four Backs Down to Three Irons" achievement.
Akagi, his face expressionless, concluded, " Hoffmann's shot is unplayable." He paused, then added, "You weren't there, so you can't understand the pressure he was under. Sakuragi, watch closely."
Akagi is someone who has been hurt before, and he knows what it feels like to be locked down by a defense. He doesn't expect Sakuragi to make any impact on the offensive end. What he wants is for Sakuragi to develop a defensive level like Robinson. When he goes to college, he will definitely be a hot commodity. Maybe he can even go to Fukazawa Sports University with him, and the Twin Towers of Shohoku will reunite. Just thinking about it makes him happy.
Sakuragi nodded, his eyes fixed on Robinson's every move like an eagle's. After the national tournament, his mindset had been elevated again. "My most glorious moment is now" wasn't just a slogan; he truly considered basketball his lifeblood, and he was willing to give everything for it.
Although he still spouts arrogant words like "I'm the best in the world," Hanamichi Sakuragi knows perfectly well that there are plenty of truly formidable opponents. He has only one thought in mind: to become stronger and win the games he should win.
He had to learn, improve, and crush those tough guys one by one. Just like Shinichi Maki told Nobunaga Kiyota: if you don't want to be slapped in the face by defeat, you can only train like crazy, win, win, win, until no one can crush you anymore.
Hanamichi Sakuragi has been playing basketball for so long and has never tasted defeat. The last game against Sannoh Industrial High School was the closest he ever came to losing. Geniuses should always be in the spotlight; who wants to experience the humiliation of being humiliated?
However, on the other hand, Alex and Robinson had just high-fived on the sidelines, and both of them looked very relaxed, just like the numbers on the scoreboard: 85 to 59. Only 14 minutes into the second half, the Cheetah had already widened the gap to 27 points.
Hoffmann, the MVP of the Chariot Country who was unstoppable in the first half, was tightly guarded by Robinson and only scored 5 points in the second half. Where was his previous high spirits? He was restless and his movements became erratic, like a firecracker that couldn't be contained.
On the other side, Cheetah MVP Alex was weaving through the giants of the Chariot Country and had already scored 41 points. Everyone could see that if he wanted to pad his stats, he would have 50 points by now. The Chariot Country's defense was like paper against him.
The performance of the two teams' star players directly set the tone for the game. In the next round, the defense went dead, and the Cheetah simply substituted Alex and Robinson.
Look at the Cheetah ' head coach's expression. This isn't about giving the opponent face; it's clearly saying, "I was just playing casually. If I had been more serious, you wouldn't have even gotten close." He might be a bit arrogant, but he has the right to be. This game showed the world the terrifying power of Lighthouse Country basketball.
Alex was the highlight, but the rest of the Cheetah were no pushovers either. Facing the towering defense of the Chariot Country, they didn't take random shots; instead, they drove straight inside, tearing the opponent's interior to shreds. So far, the Cheetah have even more blocks than the Chariot Country! Those big men were being battered like wooden stakes, barely able to stand.
The Cheetah had just substituted Alex and Robinson off the field when the Chariot Country's coach immediately sent on a fringe player who had been on the bench for ten minutes, clearly admitting defeat.
Hoffmann is too strong, almost invincible in the Chariot Country. To have that touch, he's probably spent all his time in the gym these past few years, except for eating and sleeping. But his frustration isn't about not working hard enough, but about how all his efforts were wasted against Robinson.
Hoffmann scratched his head, feeling frustrated: he just wanted to shoot the ball in, but there was a chimpanzee in the middle—why was it so difficult?
Chariot head coach patted Hoffmann on the shoulder. "The loss isn't just your fault." But everyone understood the implication: as the ace player, Hoffmann bore the greatest responsibility.
Just like when Sannoh lost to Shohoku, the most talked-about topic among fans wasn't the collapse of the dynasty, but the pressure that the ace player should bear. When a team loses, no one will blame anyone other than the ace player. The leader of a strong team is the face of the team, and if they lose, all the blame will be placed on him.
Even if you score 50 points and still lose, no one will say you tried your best; they'll only say things like, "You shouldn't have passed that ball," or "You missed your man on defense that time." Besides, in this game, Hoffmann really slumped in the second half, and Robinson completely squandered the advantage he had in the first half.
But the coach also implied that, apart from Hoffmann, everyone else played even worse. Judging from his demeanor, he wasn't too disappointed. Regret only arises in closely contested matches, due to a misjudgment or an unexpected loss. This match was simply not on the same level; losing is understandable, but not something to be ashamed of.
On the other side of the Cheetah' bench, Alex and Robinson were slumped on the bench. Both had played for more than 30 minutes and were almost out of energy, especially Robinson, who only started to get into the game in the last few rounds. Strong teams always have to control their stamina.
Robinson frowned and complained, "I really don't understand why we have to come all this way to play. It's a waste of my vacation. I was planning to go on vacation to the East Coast. This game is so boring. I have to ask the coach if I can leave early."
Alex shook his head with a wry smile, "Making trouble with the team now, do you still want to be drafted? Just stay put. Besides, the later games are sure to be interesting."
In the Lighthouse Country, basketball team captains don't have many special privileges, but Alex is the captain of the Cheetah, Robinson, this untamed beast, is completely under his thumb. Not only because he's the captain, but also because Alex is genuinely strong, ridiculously strong.
Robinson rolled his eyes. "Interesting? You mean those guys from Shohoku? You're giving them too much credit. That number 9 looks alright, but that's only because the opponents are weak. If he really faced us, what kind of trouble could he possibly cause?"
Alex patted Robinson on the shoulder, his eyes shining. "Don't be fooled by the stats on paper from Shohoku. If I really went to their league, I'd conservatively average 40 points and 30 rebounds per game, plus 30 rebounds!"
Robinson slapped his thigh and laughed like a pig, adding, "Add 10 more blocks, and I'll be averaging a triple-double, hahaha!"
But before he could finish speaking, Alex's face suddenly darkened, and Robinson's laughter, which was in the middle of a laugh, stopped abruptly, like a goose being choked.
Alex stared at Robinson, his voice as heavy as iron. "Have you forgotten that guy we ran into last year?"
Upon hearing this, Robinson's smug expression froze instantly. His previously arrogant demeanor seemed to have been paused, and he was instantly lost in his memories.
Alex stroked his chin and said slowly, "That guy said he should be from Shohoku, but we checked Shohoku's roster over and over again, and there's no such person there."