area51novel Chapter 59 Two Consecutive Wins! Easily Defeat the Japanese Team
Chapter 59 Two Consecutive Wins! Easily Defeat the Japanese Team
On the evening of June 24th, the tension in the air was even stronger than two days prior. China's second group stage match was against their old rivals—Japan.
The stadium was packed to capacity, with even the aisles overflowing with fans who hadn't managed to buy tickets. This was more than just a basketball contest; it was a war fueled by grudges and emotions. In the stands, the red national flags formed a roaring sea, while a few scattered spectators wearing Japanese team jerseys trembled like tiny boats in a stormy sea.
Inside the players' tunnel, the door to the Chinese team's locker room was tightly closed.
Coach Jiang Xingquan stood in front of the tactics board, his face more serious than ever before. He tapped the blackboard, making a "thump-thump" sound.
"Listen up, all of you." Jiang Xingquan's voice was deep and powerful. "That short guy on the Japanese team, Yuta Tabuse, plays incredibly dirty. And that Takehiko Orimo, he looks honest, but he's the one with the most underhanded tricks. I'm not afraid you won't win today, I'm just afraid you'll get provoked and sent off!"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone: "Remember, whatever moves they make, you all have to tolerate it. If the referee doesn't call it, that's the referee's problem. Your job is to use basketball to rip their faces off! Understand?"
"Understood!" came a booming voice.
Lin Hao sat in the corner, holding a can of yellow peaches, but he wasn't laughing and joking as usual. He slowly scooped out the fruit with an iron spoon, his eyes as cold as ice. He remembered that at this time in his previous life, although the Chinese team had won, it was an extremely hard-fought victory, as the Japanese team's dirty tricks had caused Yao Ming a lot of trouble.
"Haozi," Yao Ming walked over and patted him on the shoulder, "Don't overthink it, just play normally."
"Brother Yao," Lin Hao swallowed the last bite of the yellow peach, crushed the tin can with a crisp "crack," "I'm not worried about not winning, I'm worried... I might not be able to resist breaking their legs."
Yao Ming was taken aback for a moment, then laughed: "Then just beat them to a pulp, as long as you don't foul."
"rest assured."
When the Chinese team walked out of the players' tunnel, the cheers that erupted from the entire stadium almost lifted the roof off.
"China team! Crush those weaklings!"
"Lin Hao! Kill them!"
The outcry grew louder and louder.
The players from both sides shook hands. When it was Japan's star point guard, Yuta Tabuse, he didn't extend his hand. Instead, he stared into Lin Hao's eyes in broken Chinese and said in a sinister tone, "Lin Hao, don't think you're so great just because you beat Chinese Taipei. Today, I'll show you what real 'Bushido' basketball is all about."
Lin Hao stopped and looked at him indifferently, as if he were looking at a clown. He reached out, not to shake hands, but to pat Yuta Tabuse's cheek with such force that the latter's face trembled.
"Bushido?" Lin Hao's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Once we're on the field, I'll show you what 'kung fu' really is."
"beep!"
The referee blew the whistle, and the game began.
During the jump ball, Yao Ming easily passed the ball to Lin Hao.
Lin Hao dribbled the ball across half-court. Yuta Tabuse immediately clung to him like a leech. His defensive moves were very aggressive; one hand gripped the hem of Lin Hao's jersey tightly, while the forearm of his other hand sliced through Lin Hao's dribbling path like a saw.
"Beep!" The referee blew his whistle. "Pulling foul, white team (China) gets the ball."
Lin Hao ignored the referee and walked up to Yuta Tabuse, saying in a voice only the two of them could hear, "That pull just now was because you used the wrong force with your left third finger. Next time you try to pull me, remember to use your thumb to grip my wrist bone."
Yuta Tagore's expression changed; he hadn't expected Lin Hao to even notice the flaw in his exertion.
China is on offense. Lin Hao uses Yao Ming's screen to break into the paint. Japan's center, Takami Suzuki, tries to help defend, but instead of jumping to block, he directly knees Lin Hao's descending leg!
This is an extremely insidious "stepping" move!
Lin Hao was prepared. He twisted his waist forcefully in mid-air and landed on one foot. Although he staggered, he avoided a fatal blow.
"Broken referee! Are you blind?" Battier roared from the sidelines. The referee made no call.
"It's alright, I have plenty of ways." Lin Hao sneered inwardly.
In the next possession, Lin Hao dribbled the ball one-on-one against Tabuse Yuta. He made two consecutive crossover dribbles and suddenly accelerated. Tabuse Yuta hurriedly retreated to defend, but Lin Hao didn't shoot. Instead, he tossed the ball onto the backboard—
"Clang!"
Yao Ming's alley-oop dunk! 2-0!
With five minutes remaining in the first quarter, the conflict erupted.
Zhu Fangyu was running along the baseline when Japan's ace defender, Shinsuke Sato, moved in like a tank. Zhu Fangyu jumped to shoot, but Sato didn't jump; instead, he slammed his shoulder into Zhu Fangyu's waist!
"Bang!"
Zhu Fangyu fell heavily to the floor, wincing in pain.
The referee still did not blow the whistle.
"What are you doing!" Du Feng rushed forward instantly and shoved Sato Shinsuke.
The scene instantly descended into chaos. The Japanese players swarmed in like a pack of wolves, shouting and yelling at each other.
"Don't be impulsive!" Lin Hao grabbed Du Feng, his eyes flashing like knives across Sato Shinsuke's face. "Yi Lian, step back. This kind of trash needs to be taught a lesson with basketball."
Zhu Fangyu got up from the ground and dusted himself off: "It's okay, Haozi, I can handle it."
Lin Hao walked to the free-throw line and took his free throws. He calmly made both shots. 6-3.
But he had to get his revenge.
In the next defensive possession, Lin Hao was directly matched up against Yuta Tabuse. Tabuse had only dribbled the ball twice when Lin Hao suddenly lunged forward, his long arm reaching out—
With a crisp "smack!", the ball was swatted away by Lin Hao and sent flying out of bounds!
"Great hat!" The crowd erupted in cheers.
Yuta Tagore's face turned bright red. While making his run on the offensive end, he deliberately used his elbow to slam into Lin Hao's ribs.
Lin Hao had anticipated this, tightening his core and withstanding the blow. He turned to look at Yuta Tabuse, revealing a chilling smile.
"Does it hurt?" Lin Hao asked.
The next second, Lin Hao activated "kill mode".
He dribbled forward, facing Yuta Tabuse's defense, and stopped making any fancy moves. He directly confronted Tabuse with his body, using his strong shoulder to push past him and enter the penalty area.
The Japanese center was covering. Lin Hao twisted his body in mid-air to avoid the block and scored with a backhand! Another free throw!
"And one!"
This play not only scored two points but also drew Yuta Tabuse's third foul, forcing him to leave the game.
"Is this the kind of competition you wanted?" Lin Hao said coldly, watching Yuta Tabuse walk towards the bench. "This is just an appetizer."
失去核心的日本队彻底崩盘。林昊单节狂砍12分4助攻2抢断，中国队以28比15结束第一节，领先13分。
Japan's locker room, halftime.
The atmosphere was so oppressive it was suffocating.
Japan's head coach, Takuo Kishimoto, slammed his tactics board to the ground, sending shards flying.
"You bunch of trash!" Kishimoto Takuo roared in Japanese, spitting all over the front-row players' faces. "Look at the score! Is this your so-called 'Bushido'? You're being walked around like dogs by a Chinese kid!"
Tawa Yuta kept his head down, a towel covering his head, and remained silent. His face burned with pain; it was where Lin Hao had slapped him, and it still throbbed faintly.
"Coach, Lin Hao is too strong," Yuta Tabuse finally spoke, his voice trembling slightly. "We simply can't withstand his physical attacks. I've tried all sorts of tricks, but he seems completely immune."
"That's because you're too stupid!" Kishimoto Takuo roared. "His vision is too wide. If you double-team him, he'll pass the ball; if you guard him one-on-one, he'll dominate you. None of us can match him."
At that moment, the assistant coach walked over with the statistics, his face grave: "Coach Kishimoto, the situation is worse than we thought. The Chinese team isn't just about Lin Hao being good."
He pointed to the data sheet: "Look, Lin Hao scored 12 points, but he only took 5 shots. The rest of the points were all given to Zhu Fangyu, Li Nan, and Yao Ming. He was a 'bait,' and all our defensive attention was on him, and then he tore our defense apart."
Kishimoto Takuo took the data sheet, his hands trembling slightly.
"Furthermore," the assistant coach lowered his voice, "during halftime just now, I glanced at the Chinese team's bench. That guy Liu Wei and that guy Zhang Yunsong were both practicing three-pointers. Their bench depth is beyond our imagination."
Yuta Tabuse looked up, his eyes vacant: "Coach, what do we do in the second half? If we don't use more... more aggressive methods, we can't win."
Kishimoto Takuo remained silent for a long time, a hint of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes.
"Listen," he lowered his voice, leaning closer to the players, "In the second half, if Lin Hao dares to break through again, just cripple his ankle. Orihime, you're in charge of positioning; Sato, you're in charge of making the cuts. As long as we disrupt their rhythm, we'll have a chance."
"But the referee will call a foul..." one player worried.
"A foul?" Kishimoto Takuo sneered. "This is China. Referees won't dare do anything to us. Even if we get sent off, we'll still take a bite out of them!"
……
The second half begins.
The Japanese team's actions were indeed more aggressive. During one of Lin Hao's breakthroughs, Sato Shinsuke yanked his jersey hard from behind, tearing it and leaving a bloody mark on his skin.
The referee finally called a foul this time.
Lin Hao looked at his torn jersey, then at the malicious eyes of the Japanese team, and he smiled.
"Want to play dirty?" Lin Hao took off his jersey, revealing his muscular upper body, still covered in sweat and dust. "Then let's play to the fullest."
With 6 minutes left in the third quarter, Lin Hao intercepted Yuta Tabuse's pass and launched a counterattack.
This time, he didn't pass the ball. He dribbled all the way down the court, and the Japanese players scrambled back to defend like headless chickens. Lin Hao charged into the paint, facing the recovering defender, Shinsuke Sato.
Shinsuke Sato's eyes hardened, and he lifted his feet off the ground, crashing into Lin Hao like a cannonball.
Lin Hao neither dodged nor avoided, but forcibly twisted his body in mid-air and threw the ball with his left hand, while his right shoulder slammed heavily into Sato Shinsuke's chest!
Clang! Goal!
"Beep!" The referee blew his whistle. Shinsuke Sato committed a blocking foul, and Lin Hao was awarded an extra free throw!
"Cough cough..." Shinsuke Sato lay on the ground, feeling as if his chest had been hit by a sledgehammer, and he couldn't breathe for a long time.
Lin Hao made the free throw steadily, extending the score to over 20 points.
The outcome of the match was no longer in doubt. In the end, the Chinese team defeated the Japanese team 92-57, a score of 35 points.
After the match, in the Chinese team's locker room.
Everyone was celebrating the victory, but Lin Hao kept Zhao Dabao and several coaches behind.
"Da Bao," Lin Hao pointed to the TV screen, which was playing a blurry video of the conflict in the Japanese team's locker room, "what did the Japanese coach just say? I didn't think his lip movements sounded like he was saying something nice."
Zhao Dabao's face was grim: "Haozi, they're plotting how to cripple your leg. Their actions in the second half were all aimed at injuring someone."
Coach Jiang Xingquan snorted heavily: "Shameless! But we did expose some problems. Although the Japanese team lost, their naturalized player program has already begun."
Lin Hao remained silent for a moment, his gaze becoming distant.
"Coach, Da Bao," Lin Hao stood up, "this game made me realize something. The current Chinese men's basketball team, even with me and Yao Ming, what will happen when we get old? If the next generation still relies on 'small, fast, and agile' tactics to compete with strong European and American teams, we will still lose."
He took out a document that he had prepared beforehand and slammed it on the table.
"This is my 'Spark Youth Training Nationwide Promotion Plan'," Lin Hao said firmly. "Using the prize money from this Asian Championship, plus my endorsement income, I want to establish youth basketball training camps covering the whole country."
"What we need to teach is not just dribbling and shooting," Lin Hao said, looking at everyone. "What we need to teach is physicality! It's toughness! It's being able to withstand the 'sneaky' style of the Japanese team, and the 'violent' style of the European and American teams!"
"Haozi, this will cost a lot of money..." Zhao Dabao said worriedly.
"Money is no problem." Lin Hao looked out the window at the Harbin nightscape. "My NBA contract, plus the MVP bonus from the Asian Championship, is enough to launch the first batch of training bases in ten provinces. I want to ensure that ten years from now, the Chinese team won't rely on one or two star players, but on a group of iron-willed warriors!"
Yao Ming walked over and patted Lin Hao on the shoulder heavily: "Haozi, count me in. I'll also contribute my endorsement fee."
Jiang Xingquan looked at the two young men, his eyes welling up with tears: "Good! Good! This is the style of a great nation's basketball! I'll contact the Basketball Association right away and get them to cooperate with your plan."
Lin Hao stepped out of the locker room; the air outside was fresh and crisp.
He knew that tonight's 35-point victory was important, but even more important was that document. That was the true value he left for Chinese basketball—not just gold medals, but a continuous stream of youthful passion that fears no competition.
"A spark," Lin Hao murmured, "can start a prairie fire."