Basketball club activities ended.
Hibari took a shower, changed clothes, and walked out.
“Let’s go.
Where do you want to go today?” “Home.
Mother…” “Don’t spend all day saying Mother this and Mother that.
Don’t let other people tell you what your life should be like in the future.” Hibari gave Yukinoshita what he believed was a handsome smile.
The latter merely tossed him a calm, dismissive side-eye.
“Mother isn’t other people.” “So what?” “My life is mine to decide.
Even my parents have no right to interfere!” As the two chatted, they arrived at the “parking lot.” Hibari pushed out his bicycle and patted the back seat, signaling for Yukinoshita to get on.
“The road your mother arranged for you might be correct, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s what you want.” “Besides, didn’t your mother chase after that completely ordinary dad of yours back when she was young?
She wasn’t as obedient as you imagine when she was younger either.” Yukinoshita instinctively wanted to refute him.
This was her father, the person who cared about her most.
How was he completely ordinary?
In the end, however, affection for her old father still lost to the intense curiosity for gossip in her heart.
“Mother chased Father?
How do you know that?” “My mom told me.
She said your mother started training your dad back in high school.” Yukinoshita didn’t believe it.
She couldn’t imagine her dignified mother chasing after some boy.
That image was simply too beautiful.
She wanted to keep listening, but Hibari stopped talking and only told her to get on.
Yukino sighed.
“If Mother asks, I’ll tell her you forced me.” She sat on the back seat and tugged at the hem of Hibari’s shirt.
Yukinoshita had the feeling that she was being led astray, but she didn’t reject it.
Vaguely, she even felt that resisting her mother like this was exciting.
Even though all they were doing was riding around, walking through a food street, and eating a few street snacks.
Yukinoshita still felt that she was being very bold.
…
Night.
Hayato Takahashi stayed in the office to work overtime, thinking about the tactics the team would use in the upcoming national tournament and the players’ training plans.
He had been coaching at Chiba Middle School for ten years now, and he had progressed alongside this team for ten years.
Last year wasn’t the first time Chiba Middle School had entered the national tournament, but it was the first time they had broken into the national top sixteen.
But he would not be satisfied with that.
From the moment he came into contact with basketball, he had carried a dream of winning a championship.
During his playing days, he had longed to win as a player.
Now that he had transformed into a coach, he longed to lead a team to the top of the nation.
This was very difficult.
Compared to true powerhouses, Chiba Middle School lacked depth and found it hard to attract geniuses.
Whenever the basketball club was lucky enough to refresh and spawn a basketball genius, Hayato Takahashi would immediately build the team around him.
This was the survival method of small teams.
At present, Chiba Middle School’s core was undoubtedly Eikichi Nebuya.
He wasn’t particularly tall, but he was still T1 level.
His core strength was abundant, and under the basket, there were few who could match him physically.
His weaknesses were also obvious.
His scoring was mainly concentrated in the paint.
He had no long-range shooting ability and no outstanding court vision or passing ability.
To create a comfortable scoring space for Eikichi Nebuya, Chiba Middle School had to increase its perimeter firepower.
When opponents swarmed Eikichi Nebuya, the others had to use mid-range and long-range shooting to force the other side to stop double-teaming him.
But the troublesome part was precisely that Eikichi Nebuya’s pass button had been pried off.
If Chiba Middle School wanted to go further, they still needed a second person.
Ideally, it would be an all-around player with driving, passing, and shooting ability.
That way, while forcing opponents to hesitate before double-teaming Eikichi Nebuya, the two could also connect inside and outside, radiating pressure across the whole team.
Chiba Middle School’s roster didn’t have a player like that, but it did have a genius with that kind of potential.
“Can he be trained up in two months?” He set his sights on Hibari.
Hibari was clearly a power forward, an interior player, yet he very much liked launching attacks from the perimeter.
Hibari’s driving ability was strong.
So strong that even he, the coach, couldn’t understand how it was done.
His speed wasn’t particularly fast.
His speed attribute was right there.
But that change-of-direction drive without deceleration was absolutely version T0.
His passing wasn’t amazing, but it was usable.
At the middle school level of school basketball, there was no need for a hall-of-fame-level ball-control master, because even if you wanted one, you couldn’t find one.
These were players barely over ten years old.
You couldn’t demand that they play like Magic Johnson.
That wasn’t realistic.
Being good enough at passing was enough.
The only problem was that Hibari’s shooting ability was a bit poor.
In today’s game, Hibari shot 1-for-3 from three, a 33% shooting rate.
That rate wasn’t high, but it was barely usable.
If he found his touch, there might even be a surprise.
The problem was his mid-range shooting.
It made Hayato Takahashi think of that Black Mamba from Los Angeles.
It was truly too iron-heavy.
His shooting percentage was only 23%, even worse than his three-point shooting.
Thinking of Hibari’s iron oxide performance during the day, Hayato Takahashi couldn’t help feeling a headache coming on.
“But aside from Hibari, we don’t have a better choice.” Hayato Takahashi decided that in the upcoming training, he would pile a serious dose of intensity onto Hibari.
Even if Hibari couldn’t develop his mid-to-long-range shooting by the start of the national tournament, at the very least, his finishing efficiency on drives to the basket had to improve.
Otherwise, it would be too much of a waste of his driving and one-on-one ability.
There was also the fact that Eikichi Nebuya was a second-year this year, while Hibari was a first-year.
That meant that even if this year’s team couldn’t meet his expectations, they still had one more year to improve.
Elsewhere.
Hibari had also arrived at a nearby court to put in extra practice.
The more he played, the more he felt he had a lot of shortcomings.
He had to train his three-point shooting, his mid-range shooting, his drives, and his finishing at the basket.
Especially finishing at the basket.
Today had only been a three-on-three practice game.
In official games, there would be five opponents, and the defensive and spacing density would be greater.
He had to strengthen his finishing at the basket.
Otherwise, by the end of a game, his assists would end up higher than his damn points.
“All right, that’s enough for today.
Your current body can’t handle such high-intensity practice.” No.
2 stopped the training at exactly the right time.
In the end, he was only a middle school student.
His bones had not finished developing.
Excessive practice was enough to destroy a player.
“That’s enough?
I feel like I can keep going.” Hibari angrily bricked another shot, unwilling to accept it.
He felt that his next shot would definitely go in.
Facts proved that bricking was addictive.
The more you bricked, the more you wanted to shoot.
In this respect, Hibari could be said to have quite the Mamba spirit.
“Your current body only allows you to practice at this intensity.
Go home and rest properly.” “Fine.” Hibari picked up the basketball, pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt, casually slung it over his shoulder, and went home.
On the way, he was still complaining to No.
2.
“I think the system could loosen up the way lottery chances are obtained.” “Japan only has one national tournament a year.
Even if we win every game, we won’t play that many.
Practice matches should count too.
At the very least, training games should count, right?” He bargained with No.
2, but No.
2’s answer was very blunt.
“I do not possess that authority.” Damn it.
Useless.
…
Please add this book to your library!