Halftime: Sannoh 48, Flowstate 34.
The deficit wasn't insurmountable, but the manner of it was. Sannoh was methodically dismantling them. In the locker room, the frustration was a tangible fog.
"We're playing their game," Drei said, his voice tight. "We're trying to match their precision. We can't. Their system is decades deep."
"Then we don't match it," Riki replied, a new intensity in his eyes. "We pollute it. We've been trying to run our sets against theirs. Forget the sets. From now on, it's street rules. Constant motion. Random cuts. Switch everything on defense, even the bigs. We make it ugly."
The third quarter began not with a play, but with a mindset. Riki drove headlong into the heart of Sannoh's defense, not looking to score, but to collapse it. He kicked it out to a randomly relocating Renz, who fired without hesitation. Swish.
On defense, they switched manically. Teo found himself on Fujima, using his length to disrupt the point guard's vision. Bornok battled Kawata, giving up strength but not an inch of effort. The game, once a clean chess match, descended into a gritty, physical brawl. The score was still in Sannoh's favor, but the pace was now Flowstate's.