Halftime: Shohoku 42, Flowstate 36.
The locker room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing. This was a different kind of exhaustion than the Teikō match. That was mental; this was purely physical.
"They're... fast," Renz panted, clutching his knees.
"And they jump like they've got springs in their shoes," Bornok added, rubbing a sore spot on his ribs from battling Akagi.
Drei wiped his face with a towel. "They're not running plays. They're playing on instinct and athleticism. We can't out-run them. We have to out-think them."
Coach, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. "Drei is right. Stop trying to match their chaos. Slow it down. Make them play our game. Teo, you have the size advantage. We go inside. Every possession."
Riki nodded, his conductor's mind already working. "Bornok, we need your screens to be walls, not suggestions. Renz, be patient. The openings will come."
The second half was about to start. The roar of the crowd was a tangible force, pulling them back onto the court. They had survived the initial storm. Now, they had to weather it and strike back.