On June 8th, the gymnasium was like a steaming cauldron, with the heat from the stands almost blowing the roof off.
When the Lihao High School players, wearing their gray-blue uniforms, entered the court, many people were still whispering to each other—this team, which had suddenly made it to the Top 8, even their name sounded unfamiliar.
Ryokufu's starting lineup was still impressive: Mike Okita, number 1, was warming up with jump shots on the wing; John Gedd, number 1, was warming up with dribbling; the 195cm Na Takamitsu and James Wallace, number 1, were finding their touch by post-up plays under the basket; and Kurami Ichiro, 185cm, was taking practice shots from beyond the three-point line.
With an average height of nearly 190cm, their lineup stood on the court like a moving wall.
And on Lehao's side—
Point guard, number 7, Moriyama Ryota, 182cm, though as thin as a bean sprout and nearly ten centimeters shorter than John Gedd, he shook his head and performed a dazzling series of crossover dribbles in place, his fingertips touching the ball so quickly that only afterimages remained.
This made even the Ryonan Team in the stands exclaim, "So fast, so flashy dribbling!"
Shooting guard, number 10, Sasaki Rin, 180cm, with short hair and eyes as cold as ice, didn't shoot any three-pointers during warm-up, only hitting five consecutive bank shots from near the free-throw line, their arcs as precise as if measured with a compass.
Small forward, number 4, Takeshi Arakawa, 188cm, his arms a full section longer than average, giving him an arm span like a praying mantis.
Power forward, number 12, Isamu Ishida, 185cm, as sturdy as a millstone, his jersey collar bulging with muscle, his gaze at the Ryokufu players carrying a fierce intensity.
The center, however, was not the tallest on the team; at this moment, he didn't stand under the basket but instead shot a swish from beyond the three-point line, and as he landed, he even lifted his chin at the Ryokufu bench.
"This center can shoot threes?" an incredulous gasp came from the stands.
"This center's build is a bit weak; can he hold his ground under the basket?" the Ryokufu bench was also discussing.
Fujisawa Eri's American coach sat on the bench, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the tactics board—he had studied Lehao's game footage; this team didn't have a height advantage, but their zone defense was very strong.
The referee's whistle blew, and Na Takamitsu easily tipped the jump ball to John Gedd.
Ryokufu's fast break started as usual, with John Gedd using his height to drive inside against Moriyama Ryota, and just as he was about to lay up, Moriyama Ryota suddenly slid around behind him, his fingertips lightly poking the bottom of the ball—
"Whap!" The basketball flew out of his hands, hitting a Ryokufu player's foot and bouncing out of bounds.
The entire stadium was in an uproar.
John Gedd paused, looking down at Moriyama Ryota by his feet, who was looking up and smiling, a mischievous glint in his eyes: "Big guy, a bit slow on the reaction, aren't you?"
On Lehao's offensive possession, Moriyama Ryota executed a cross-screen with Takeshi Arakawa beyond the three-point line, then suddenly slammed the ball to the ground through a gap in the players; the ball bounced as if it had eyes, flying to the basket, where Isamu Ishida, facing James Wallace's block, forcefully dunked the ball into the hoop, and at the same time, the whistle blew—a 2+1 play.
"Great shot!" Lehao's bench erupted, and Isamu Ishida pounded his chest with a roar that made James Wallace frown tightly.
Ryokufu's offense began to be hampered.
Kurami Ichiro's three-point shot was tightly guarded by Sasaki Rin, whose fingertips brushed the ball as he shot, causing it to hit the front of the rim and bounce out; Mike Okita tried to drive strongly, but Takeshi Arakawa's long arms always precisely blocked his dribbling path, and even if he couldn't steal the ball, he could force him out of bounds;
Na Takamitsu received the ball under the basket, and Tanaka Osamu, despite being eight centimeters shorter, clung to him like chewing gum, precisely anticipating his pivot points with every turn.
Even more critical was Lehao's zone defense.
The five players wove a net; Ryokufu's taller players were double-teamed as soon as they entered the paint, and when they tried to pass the ball out, Moriyama Ryota and Sasaki Rin were already darting to the perimeter like arrows, intercepting three passes and even launching two fast-break counterattacks.
After 4 minutes in the first half, the scoreboard read 18:16, with Lehao leading by two points.
"Don't panic!" John Gedd clapped his hands, "They're just relying on cheap tricks; let's overpower them!"
Mike Okita gritted his teeth, his old ankle injury throbbing; he had been tripped by Takeshi Arakawa earlier, and it hurt even more now, but he didn't say anything—losing to a team like this was more humiliating than getting beaten up by Mito Yohei.
"Ryokufu calls a timeout!"
At this moment, Ryokufu called its first timeout of the game, and when the Ryokufu players gathered, their faces showed disbelief—they were accustomed to crushing opponents with height and speed, but now they were being thrown into disarray by a group of "shorties."
American coach Coleman loosened his tie, placed the tactics board on the folding chair, and drew on the board with his fingertips: "Zone defense? It's just paper-thin!"
He pointed at Lehao's player positioning chart: "Those two guards (Moriyama, Sasaki) run around happily, but their corner defense is half a beat slow.
Kurami, your offensive spot needs to sink to the left corner; Mike, go to the right. John, when you penetrate, pass it when you see the opening—when their short guys come to help, just raise your hands and shoot; don't give them a chance to poke the ball away."
James Wallace wiped his face: "That kid (Ishida) keeps bumping me in the waist; I can't even get position."
"You move out, stay at the free-throw line," Coleman pointed at Na Takamitsu, "You sink under the basket, James comes out, and their sturdy Ishida will definitely follow. At that point, John lobs the ball to Na Takamitsu, and you drive it in hard!"
He threw down his pen and stared at Mike Okita: "Don't waste energy on them; use your height for mismatches. Your arms are longer than theirs; just raise your hands and shoot; you don't have to force your way inside."
Mike Okita licked his chapped lips, said nothing, but glanced at the other side of the court—Moriyama Ryota of Lehao was high-fiving his teammates, that look of smugness making his teeth itch.
The timeout ended, and Ryokufu began to attack the paint aggressively.
Na Takamitsu used his weight to push past Tanaka Osamu, but his turnaround hook shot missed;
James Wallace grabbed the rebound and scored with a put-back dunk;
However, Lehao immediately responded with a three-pointer.
On Ryokufu's offense, Kurami Ichiro finally found an open spot and hit a three-pointer, tying the score at 21 all.
But immediately after, Lehao responded with a surge.
Moriyama Ryota stole the ball from John Gedd twice in a row, and during a fast break, he made a behind-the-back pass to Takeshi Arakawa, who soared for a dunk, igniting the entire stadium;
Sasaki Rin received the ball in the corner, and facing Mike Okita's block, he hit a fadeaway jump shot that swished through the net, his movement as graceful as a swift.
Ryokufu was being constantly pressured!
When the halftime whistle blew, the scoreboard was frozen at 50:42, with Lehao leading by 8 points.
The Ryokufu players walked back to the bench, silent.
Fujisawa Eri looked at the celebrating Lehao players on the court, then glanced towards the Ryonan direction in the stands.
Fujisawa Eri stood by the bench, the plastic water bottle in her hand distorted from being squeezed, her voice filled with unconcealed anxiety: "What are you doing? How could you be played like this?"
Her gaze swept over the tense faces of the players, finally resting on the coach, her tone full of disbelief, "You clearly have a height advantage; how could they lead you around?"
Coach Coleman raised his hand and pressed her arm, signaling her to calm down, then turned to the players, his tone still steady: "Miss Eri, no need to rush."
He picked up the tactics board and held it out to the players, tapping the tactical lines he had just drawn with his fingertips, "We've figured out their zone defense in the first half. In the second half, we'll follow what we just discussed, attack their corner gaps and interior mismatches, and we'll definitely close the score difference."
Seeing Fujisawa Eri still looking grim, he turned his head and smiled at her, with a touch of American certainty: "Trust my players, and even more, trust this strategy—we will win!"
Mike Okita gulped down a sports drink; as his Adam's apple bobbed, he caught a glimpse of Fujisawa Eri's still-furrowed brow out of the corner of his eye, and the surge of his competitive spirit suddenly rose within him—if for nothing else, he couldn't let her think that he couldn't even defeat such a "short team."
Meanwhile, Lehao's coach was patting Moriyama Ryota's shoulder and smiling: "Don't rush; let them catch their breath. The real show is yet to come."
The gymnasium lights fell on the faces of both teams' players, half solemn, half excited; the gunpowder in the air was so thick it couldn't be diffused.