chsdbacks Chapter 163
Chapter 163
By the thirtieth throw, my arm was too heavy to lift. It wasn't that I lacked strength; my muscles were exhausted to the limit. The nerve signals were transmitted, but the muscles didn't respond, like an overloaded machine.
But he didn't stop. He gritted his teeth, raised the ball overhead, pressed his wrist down, and flicked it with his fingers. The ball drew an arc, not high, but in the right direction.
It hit the back edge of the rim, bounced twice, and rolled in.
He cast another one.
Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four—the ball grew heavier, the basket farther and farther away, my arms felt like they were strapped with sandbags. Every time I lifted the ball, my shoulders trembled slightly.
By the fiftieth shot, his hand had completely lost its feel. The instant the ball left his hand, he didn't even know which way it would fly. But he still shot.
The ball hit the backboard, bounced back, and rolled to the sidelines.
He walked over, picked it up, and glanced at the basket.
Then he turned and walked toward the locker room.
7 PM, tactics class.
The tactics room is on the second floor of the training hall. It's not big, and can seat about twenty people. There's a large whiteboard on the wall with a basketball court drawn on it, covered with red and blue circular tiles attached by magnets. At the front is an old-fashioned projector, its bulb humming like a large wasp trapped in a glass dome.
Coach Li stood in front of the whiteboard, holding a marker in his hand.
"Today's tactics lesson is about pick and roll."
He drew two circles on the whiteboard, one red and one blue. Red represented defense, and blue represented offense.
"The core of the pick-and-roll is not the pick itself, but the roll. Many people only know how to pick, but don't know how to roll. If you just stand still after setting the screen, it's a waste of time."
He drew a line next to the blue circle to indicate the running route.
"When the ball handler drives to the basket using a screen, the screener must read the defense. If the defender switches, the screener should roll to the basket. If the defender collapses, the screener should pop out. That's called reading the game."
Lin Feng sat in the last row, listening attentively. His notebook was already open, and he held a ballpoint pen in his hand, his fingertips still aching. His grip on the pen was somewhat unnatural, like he was holding a thin needle.
Coach Li drew several variations of pick-and-roll on the whiteboard—high pick-and-roll, wing pick-and-roll, baseline pick-and-roll, and double pick-and-roll. He paused to explain each variation: when to screen, when to roll, when to pass, and when to shoot.
Lin Feng drew the same diagrams in his notebook and wrote down the key points next to each diagram.
Gao Yuan sat next to him, also taking notes, but his notes were a mess; the circles looked like potatoes, and the lines were crooked and twisted, like the tracks of earthworms. He glanced at Lin Feng's notebook, paused for a moment, then leaned closer and whispered, "You draw better than Lao Li."
Lin Feng ignored him and continued drawing.
Chen Hao sat in the front row, his back ramrod straight, his glasses reflecting the light from the whiteboard. He rarely took notes or asked questions; he just sat there, listening without moving, like a quiet tree.
The tactics lesson lasted an hour and a half.
After Coach Li finished explaining the last variation, he capped the marker, placed it in the slot on the whiteboard, and made a soft "click".
That's all for today. Go back and review today's notes. I'll be asking you questions tomorrow.
Everyone stood up and walked outside.
Lin Feng remained seated until he finished drawing the last page in his notebook, then closed the notebook and stood up.