Slam Dunk: Sakuragi learned from Kawamura Eiki's experience

The jump ball was successful.

The moment Sakuragi landed, he gripped the ball with one hand, his eyes not even fully open, and his body had already shot off.

Oda stood directly in front of him, feet apart, arms outstretched, ready to block his path.

But Sakuragi had no intention of going around it.

He dribbled the ball with his left hand, then switched it to his right. He shifted his weight, pushed off the ground with his right foot, and like a truck suddenly accelerating, he squeezed past Xiaotian on the right.

Xiao Tian stumbled from the force of the impact and took two steps back before regaining his balance.

He gritted his teeth, turned around, and chased after him.

"Get back on defense! Double-team him!" Xiaotian shouted as he ran, his voice urgent and shrill.

The people in the third shift reacted relatively quickly. Two people came from both sides, one blocking the front and the other chasing from behind, forming a human barrier.

There was another face in front of Sakuragi, and another shoulder on his left.

If it were someone else, they would have passed the ball at this point.

But Sakuragi doesn't pass the ball.

It's not that I don't want to send it, it's that I really don't know how.

The past month of training has focused on dribbling, shooting, positioning under the basket, rebounding, and other basic skills. There has been very little practice in developing teamwork and coordination with teammates.

And most importantly... he never even considered passing the ball.

He had only one thought in his mind.

The ball goes into the basket.

Sakuragi slapped the ball in front of him, his shoulder slumped, and he crashed directly into the defender in front of him.

"Bang!"

The sound of bodies colliding was muffled, sounding like someone slapping a table on the playground.

The defender was bounced back, staggering three or four steps before landing hard on his backside.

Another person who caught up reached out to grab the ball, but Sakuragi blocked it with his left arm, causing him to lose his balance and fall sideways.

Sakuragi rushed out.

First step: plant your right foot firmly and tuck the ball to your waist.

The second step is to step out with your left foot and raise the ball overhead.

The third step is to jump.

His body soared into the air in the sunlight, his school uniform billowing in the wind, his right arm raised high, the basketball firmly tucked in his palm.

The basketball hoop was getting closer and closer to him, the white paint on the metal rim reflecting the sunlight.

A loud crash!

The ball went through the net, bounced on the ground, and rolled out of bounds after two bounces.

The basketball hoop was still vibrating and humming, the echo of the metal ring reverberating across the playground for a second or two.

The entire playground fell silent for a moment.

Then it exploded.

"Dunk... He dunked!"

"That redhead dunked again!"

"Wow! He jumped so high!"

The girls outside the barbed wire fence screamed in different tones, and several covered their mouths and stared wide-eyed.

The defenders from Class 3 stood there, looking at each other with expressions as if they had seen a ghost.

The one sitting on the ground hadn't gotten up yet, looking up at Sakuragi hanging on the basket, his mouth agape.

Mr. Yamamoto almost dropped his whistle from his mouth.

He worked as a physical education teacher for two years and coached many students in basketball, but he never actually witnessed a dunk.

Coach Takeda had told him that Sakuragi was extremely talented and could dunk, but he thought he was just barely able to shove the ball in.

Seeing it with your own eyes is another matter.

That height, that hang time, that force with which he smashed the ball in with one hand...

He doesn't seem like someone who has only been practicing basketball for a month.

Then he blew the whistle.

"Beep—!"

He crossed his arms in front of his body, making an illegal gesture.

"Offensive foul! Goal disallowed!"

Sakuragi had just jumped off the rim and hadn't even landed properly when he heard those words and froze.

He slowly turned his head and looked at Mr. Yamamoto with a blank expression.

"Why did it disallow the foul again?"

That tone, that expression, were exactly the same as in PE class a month ago—a sincere, pure, and heartfelt lack of understanding.

Mr. Yamamoto almost burst out laughing at his expression, but he held it in and explained with a straight face:

"You committed a clear offensive foul when you drove to the basket. You bumped into someone with your shoulder and pushed the defender with your hand."

"Then how can I get past him if I don't hit him?" Sakuragi asked matter-of-factly.

Mr. Yamamoto took a deep breath, realizing he might need to tell Mr. Takeda that it would be necessary to prepare a copy of "Introduction to Basketball Rules" for Sakuragi.

Sidelines.

"Hahahaha!"

The four members of Sakuragi's gang were laughing so hard they were practically rolling on the floor.

Takamiya collapsed onto the grass, pounding the ground with his fists: "It doesn't count! It doesn't count even if it does!"

Da Nan squatted on the ground, clutching his stomach, his face flushed red: "Last time it was traveling that didn't count, this time it was a foul for bumping into someone, what will it be next time? Hahahaha!"

Noma laughed until tears streamed down his face, wiping his eyes with his sleeve: "I finally managed to get one in, and it didn't count! My stomach hurts, hahaha!"

Yohei stood at the very edge, his lips curled up in a wide smile, but he didn't laugh so hard he collapsed like the other three.

He looked at Sakuragi's bewildered expression on the field and shook his head.

"This guy has been playing for a month and still doesn't understand the rules," he muttered.

The game continues.

Class 3 serves.

The ball was passed around several times among the students in Class 3, at a moderate pace, with smooth teamwork.

One ball bounces off the ground, the other hands it to the ground, and the ball flows from the backcourt to the frontcourt like water.

Sakuragi stood on the edge of the penalty area, his eyes fixed on the ball, turning his head as the ball moved.

He wasn't quite sure where he should stand. Coach Takeda had taught him that as a center, he should guard the paint, but everyone in Class 3 was running around outside, and he was standing alone inside like a lost telephone pole.

The ball ended up in Oda's hands.

Oda receives the ball outside the three-point line, easily shakes off the defender with a crossover, and accelerates to break through.

He was fast and had a long stride; he reached the free-throw line in just two steps.

Sakuragi tried to block him, but Oda faked a pass, fooling him.

Then Oda jumped, leaned back slightly in the air, flicked his wrist, and the ball slid from his fingertips, lightly brushing the backboard.

"Swish." The needle went into the net.

The area outside the barbed wire fence exploded instantly.

"Oda-kun...!"

"Great shot! That was awesome!"

"As expected of the basketball team's ace!"

The girls' screams grew louder and louder.

After landing, Oda glanced at Sakuragi, a slight smile playing on his lips, then turned and ran back to defend.

That one glance made it clear: Did you see that? This is what playing ball is all about.

Sakuragi gave a cold snort, looking displeased.

Class 6 serves the ball from the bottom, and Sakuragi receives the ball and dribbles it across the half-court line.

The ball thumped around his hand, the rhythm fast but steady.

Xiao Tian blocked his way again, this time with another person. Another member of the third class came from the side, and the two of them blocked his breakthrough angle from the left and right.

"Come on." Oda bent over, his eyes fixed on Sakuragi's waist and abdomen, judging the direction of his breakthrough.

As Sakuragi dribbled the ball, a thought flashed through his mind.

Last time I hit someone, I was called for a foul.

We can't crash this time.

He took a deep breath, and his dribbling rhythm suddenly changed from slow to fast. He switched the ball between his left and right hands and swayed his body to the left.

Xiaotian's center of gravity shifted slightly to the left.

Just a little bit.

Sakuragi slammed his right foot into the ground, propelling himself to the right.

The movement was quick and sudden, like a bent bamboo suddenly straightening up.

He slapped the ball in front of him with his right hand, and his body slipped through the gap between Xiaotian and another defender like an eel.

There was no physical contact this time.

The two turned back to chase after them, but it was too late.

Sakuragi drove to the basket, took three big steps and jumped, one step, two steps, and jumped again.

He didn't dunk this time. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but the distance was a bit too far, and his take-off position wasn't ideal.

He changed to holding the ball with one hand and gently sending it onto the backboard.

The ball hit the backboard, bounced, and fell into the basket.

"Whoosh."

The net swayed slightly.

Sakuragi landed, his feet on the concrete, his body slightly leaning forward, maintaining the posture he had just finished shooting.

He turned to look at Mr. Yamamoto.

Mr. Yamamoto raised his right hand, gave a thumbs-up, and blew a whistle.

"Goal! Two points!"

Sakuragi's expression changed.

Her tense expression turned into a radiant smile.

The smile on that face looked like it had been torn in two, the corners of his mouth stretched to his ears, his eyes narrowed to slits, and his whole face was scrunched up...

When Takamiya later described that smile, he said something quite irritating: "It's like a dried chrysanthemum."

But at this moment, Sakuragi only had one thought in his mind: scoring points doesn't seem so difficult after all!

The next ten minutes or so of the match turned into a duel between the two players.

Xiao Tian led the third team in a coordinated attack. The ball was passed back and forth among the five players, like a shuttle on a loom, going back and forth.

Sakuragi doesn't quite understand things like pick-and-roll, passing and cutting, and positioning, but he can see that the ball will eventually go in.

The third squad's attack flowed as smoothly as a river, never ceasing from beginning to end.

Sakuragi led Class 6 in the attack... He handled all the offense by himself.

Dribble past half-court, drive, shoot, dunk.

The other four players from Class 6 were basically just there to make up the numbers. They wanted to help, but when the ball got to them, it was either stolen or they missed the shot. After a few times, they stopped taking the ball and went straight for Sakuragi as soon as they got it.

The defense is even worse.

Class Six's defense was like a tattered fishing net, full of holes. Class Three could easily find open shots with just a couple of passes, making shooting as easy as in practice.

Sakuragi couldn't hold the entire half of the court by himself. When he ran to the left, the right side was open. When he ran to the right, the left side was open again.

He experienced a very strange feeling for the first time: he was exhausted, but the score gap was getting bigger and bigger.

Mr. Yamamoto blew the final whistle.

"Time's up!"

The numbers on the scoreboard were frozen.

Class 3: 43.

Class 6: 31.

A 12-point gap.

The girls outside the barbed wire fence cheered loudly. Xiaotian was surrounded by a group of people. Some handed her water, some handed her towels, and several girls waved vigorously through the barbed wire fence.

"Oda-kun is amazing!"

"The highest score of the entire event, right?"

"Of course! Oda-kun is the ace!"

Sakuragi stood on the other side of the court, hands on his hips, panting heavily.

Sweat streamed down his forehead and into his eyes, stinging him and making him blink repeatedly.

He looked up at the scoreboard.

43:31.

But they lost the game.

Sakuragi lowered his head, feeling a tightness in his chest, but he couldn't quite put his finger on where it was.

In the past, if you lost a fight, you just lost. If you weren't good enough, you could go back and practice and fight back next time.

But today's loss was different. He felt he hadn't lost, but the scoreboard clearly showed that they had lost.

"Sakuragi".

Mr. Yamamoto walked over, holding a scoreboard, and glanced down at him.

"You've only been playing basketball for a month, right?"

Sakuragi looked up, his expression saying, "You know perfectly well what I'm asking."

"Yes." The voice was muffled.

Mr. Yamamoto nodded and tucked the scoreboard under his arm.

"That's right. You really are a genius, just like what Teacher Takeda said."

Sakuragi was stunned.

He blinked, his mouth opened slightly, then closed again.

We lost.

They lost by 12 points, how can they still be called geniuses?

"No... teacher," Sakuragi scratched the back of his head, making his hair even messier, "I lost, how come I'm still called a genius?"

Mr. Yamamoto smiled and tapped the scoreboard twice.

"Basketball is a team sport. You might score 25 points, but look at your teammates, they've only scored 6."

The opposing team's five players combined have 43 points. You're fighting five of them alone; it's no wonder you're losing.

Sakuragi's hand stopped on his head, stunned! He was fighting five people by himself?

"Look at Xiaotian, he doesn't score as many points as you individually, but he drives the whole team. He passes, organizes, and defends, getting everyone involved. The five of them become a cohesive unit, and that's what basketball is all about."

You need to understand, basketball isn't a one-man show! Even someone as great as Jordan needed teammates like Pippen to help him become a top contender for the championship this year.

The teacher patted Sakuragi on the shoulder.

"Your individual skills are already very strong, but basketball is not an individual sport. You've only been training for a month, so take it slow."

Sakuragi lowered his hand from his head.

He turned his head and glanced at Class 3. Xiao Tian was surrounded by his teammates, chatting and laughing, patting each other on the shoulder and giving each other high-fives; the atmosphere was wonderful.

He glanced at his own side again. Of his four teammates from Class 6, two had already gone to get water, one was squatting on the sidelines tying his shoelaces, and the other was brushing the dust off his pants.

Nobody was looking at the scoreboard, and nobody cared about winning or losing.

Sakuragi suddenly felt that something was indeed missing.

He scratched his head. "I see..."

The four members of Sakuragi's gang were still standing in the same spot, their postures unchanged.

Takamiya tilted his head, his brows furrowed: "We lost the match."

Da Nan nodded: "Yeah, we lost."

Noma added, "We lost by 12 points."

All three of them looked at Yohei at the same time.

"They lost the match, so why didn't Hanamichi get angry?" Takamiya asked the question everyone wanted to ask.

Yohei leaned against the wire mesh, his hands in his pockets, watching Sakuragi talking to the PE teacher on the field.

Sakuragi was standing there, scratching the back of his head with one hand, a rather unusual, slightly silly smile on his face. Like a well-behaved child, he was listening intently to what the teacher was saying.

"I don't know either," Yohei said thoughtfully, "but I think it's fine this way."

The three people in Takamiya exchanged glances, none of them understanding.

But Yohei did not explain.