socalfunplaces Chapter 190
Chapter 190
The sun was blazing, and the leaves drooped, their edges curling slightly. A cicada chirped in the tree, its sound like a stretched-out wire, shrill, monotonous, and tireless.
Chen Hao walked over from behind and stood next to him.
Are you nervous?
Lin Feng thought for a moment. "A little."
Chen Hao didn't speak. He looked down at his hands, his fingers long and slender, with distinct joints and thin calluses on his fingertips.
"It's normal to be nervous," he said. "Not being nervous means you don't care."
He pushed open the door and went inside.
It's exactly three o'clock.
Coach Li blew his whistle, the metallic sound as crisp as a stone hitting a glass. The Red Team and the White Team were already in position on the field. There were more spectators than usual today—several members of the track and field team and the swimming team sat in the stands, holding popsicles or sodas, as if they were there for entertainment.
Lin Feng stood in the red team's lineup, wearing a red vest, next to Zhang Lei. Zhang Lei didn't say a word today. He stood there warming up, dribbling the ball a few times, clapping his hands a few times, his face expressionless, but Lin Feng noticed that his gaze was more focused than usual—like a cat crouching at the entrance of a hole.
The white team's lineup was the same as yesterday. Sun Hao stood under the basket, cracking his wrists, his large fingers fidgeting in his palms, making a slight popping sound. Liu Yang sprinted back and forth along the baseline, his steps slow but long, each stride seemingly measuring the length of the floor.
Gao Yuan dribbled the ball beyond the three-point line, once, twice, three times. He dribbled with more force than usual today, and the ball bounced off the ground with a dull, powerful echo.
Coach Li stood on the sidelines, holding the black notebook in his hand. "Red team serves first."
The whistle pierced the air with a sharp sound.
Game start.
Lin Feng's performance was completely different from the previous games. Today, he felt the pressure the moment he got the ball—the defenders were marking him more closely, the help defenders were arriving faster, and even his passing lanes were blocked more tightly. Ma Chao was like a leech sticking to him today; no matter where Lin Feng ran, Ma Chao followed, his hand outstretched in front of him, not giving him any comfortable space to receive the ball. The White Team's overall defensive strategy had clearly been adjusted to target Lin Feng—as soon as Lin Feng received the ball, the nearest defender would immediately double-team him.
In the first possession, Lin Feng missed the ball. Zhang Lei broke through and scored a layup.
In the second possession, Lin Feng received the ball on a baseline cut, and Ma Chao followed. He dribbled towards the basket, but Sun Hao came up to help defend, blocking his path like a wall. He passed the ball to Chen Hao on the perimeter, and Chen Hao shot—the ball went in. Assist.
The score is still zero.
In the third possession, Zhang Lei drove to the basket, drawing the defense, and passed the ball to Lin Feng in the corner. As Lin Feng received the ball, Ma Chao was already closing in. He had no time to adjust and shot immediately—the ball bounced off the front of the rim. Sun Hao grabbed the rebound.
zero points.
In the first six minutes, Lin Feng missed both of his field goal attempts, scoring only two points from free throws.
As he stood on the sidelines to drink water, Gao Yuan ran over. His forehead was covered in sweat, and his vest was soaked through, clinging to his body, revealing the rise and fall of his chest. "They're guarding you too tightly. Liu Yang said to focus on you."
"I know." Lin Feng swallowed the water, his throat burning. The water slid down his esophagus like a cool thread passing through burning coals.
"Why don't you try catching and shooting off the ball? Don't hold the ball, just shoot as soon as you catch it. They can't double-team you that quickly."