The Golden Age of Basketball

Franklin's dunk energized the Shui Zhong Team, while the Tiger Team fell into confusion.

Obviously, they had not accurately assessed the strength of the Shui Zhong Team before the game—there was no way to do so, as Shui Zhong had only played a few games, and there were no videos available for study.

With the help of Cap Raven, the Shui Zhong Team managed to find a lot of information about the Tiger Team, including the height, playing style, and characteristics of the starting five, as well as the team's past performance and tactical features, all of which Beelman had carefully studied.

He had two weeks to carefully prepare, designing and practicing tactics, setting strategies, coordinating the lineup, and getting the team in optimal condition.

Judging by their performance at the start of the game, Shui Zhong was up to standard—not just up to standard but even a bit beyond what Beelman had anticipated.

Especially notable was the team's tenacious zone defense, which hadn't shown any sign of relaxation for nearly six minutes.

Keep in mind that zone defense is extremely demanding on player's understanding, concentration, and especially the physical endurance of the guards.

In practice, the two guard players repeatedly moved laterally and ran back and forth along the perimeter with the ball until they felt like throwing up.

Xu Xun was a crucial "nail" in the outer line of the zone defense, his tireless running and loud reminders helped the team maintain its defensive formation.

Beelman thought to himself that Asian players might not match Black players in physical attributes, but their discipline, team spirit, and smart minds were the treasured keys to victory.

Xu Xun successfully defended on the outside; he stole the ball from the opposing point guard, and Shui Zhong Team launched another counterattack.

Chen Xing took the ball into the key, circled around, and he wouldn't shoot lightly; instead, he looked to pass to either Franklin or Gan Guoyang.

Gan Guoyang cut to the inside, Chen Xing lobbed a pass under the basket, Gan Guoyang caught the ball, faked a move to deceive the defender, dribbled around to the other side, and power-dunked the ball with one hand!

After scoring, Gan Guoyang shouted at Fremont's center Herbert, "You said you'd keep an eye on me, so where are you? Tell me, where are you!"

"I'll show you, just you wait," Herbert's response sounded somewhat feeble.

Because so far, he had been unable to score over Gan Guoyang, having his only two one-on-one chances thwarted.

The guy had surprising strength; Herbert found he couldn't compete with Gan Guoyang under the basket at all. With a push of the arm or a nudge of the hips, he would be out of position.

Herbert had never encountered such a formidable center before, not even in the rough and tough Oakland League was there a center with such hardness and power.

The Tiger Team's outside shots continued to miss. In high school basketball games where the three-point shot wasn't yet a thing, long shots were not a primary focus of practice for the players.

Gan Guoyang had carved out his own territory under the basket and grabbed another defensive rebound; no one could compete with him—for high school and college players in the 1980s, strength training was rare. Even some NBA professionals didn't train with weights, citing it could affect their shooting touch.

Thus, these Black players were all tall and slim, and in just a few minutes, Gan Guoyang had already snatched 8 rebounds.

In Shui Zhong's counterattack, Gan Guoyang continued to cover for Chen Xing, showing up at the high post to receive passes.

Franklin was posting up near the key, and the Tiger Team's defense began to collapse around him.

Gan Guoyang was left unguarded, with no one within two steps of him—who would stick to a center standing at the top of the arc?

Gan Guoyang did not pass; he chose to take a long shot himself! He had the ability.

But tonight, his first long shot was not properly calibrated, and the ball hit the front rim and missed, unfortunately.

Gan Guoyang immediately fell back on defense; his attempt at a long shot had started another round of noisy taunts from the Fremont students in the stands.

The noise of the court never stopped; not only were the fans shouting, but the referees and the technical table personnel all had to yell at the top of their lungs.

It sounded busier here than the New York Stock Exchange, as if everyone were scrambling to match millions, tens of millions of stocks.

After a few rounds, Gan Guoyang noticed that a black teenager with a big head was constantly spewing at him from the first row on the sidelines, non-stop.

At least the others would fluctuate with the progress of the game, yelling out during exciting moments, and then sitting there watching the game, waiting for the next outburst.

But this guy, like a wound-up clock, regardless of how the game was progressing, whenever Guoyang returned to his own half, he could hear him incessantly jabbering, spouting all sorts of nonsense, even incomprehensible words—but it was clear none of them were anything nice.

At the end of the first half, Shui Zhong Team was ahead by 3 points with a score of 37:34 against the Tiger Team.

Shui Zhong Team once stretched the lead to a maximum of 7 points, but in the latter part of the first half their zone defense concentration finally slipped, allowing the Tiger Team to catch up and narrow the gap to 3 points.

Franklin scored 17 points in the first half, the highest on the team, and his athletic ability and strong post moves provided great help to Gan Guoyang; the kid truly had talent.

Without him, missing that reliable ball-handling scoring option, Guoyang would have had a tough time against the Tiger Team, who had the advantage at other positions.

Gan Guoyang actually had a rather easy run in the first half; the intensity of Fremont High School was not as terrifying as people had said.

He was not afraid of the physical contact on the court at all; in the paint, Herbert was completely suppressed by Guoyang, and Henry-Turner didn't keep attacking the inside to challenge him either.

Plainly put, the Tiger Team wasn't fully prepared; they didn't truly understand how Guoyang played basketball, from the coach to the players, they all underestimated this big guy.

12 points, 15 rebounds, 4 blocks, those were Gan Guoyang's stats for the half, as he and Franklin accounted for most of the team's points.

What really irked Gan Guoyang was the psychological warfare from the sideline.

Yes, that big-headed black teenager who kept spouting trash talk.

His big mouth had not rested from the start of the game to the halftime break; every time Guoyang passed by the spectator seats, he could hear the guy's coarse voice.

At such a young age, his voice was as though it was mixed with sand; he didn't speak quickly, but with his chin up and his head swaying, he rhythmically, methodically threw trash talk at Guoyang.

After halftime and the teams switched sides, Guoyang started to face the verbal assault from the big head when on offense; the others sitting beside him didn't even speak, but listened and then joined in the jeering.

His language was laced with profanities, but not everything he said was dirty; like a chatterbox in a conversation, he kept talking across the space to Guoyang.

"Shoot, Chinese guy! Offense! Dunk your ass into the basket! The girls from Chinatown are waiting for you to go flip them over and you're wasting time here playing basketball! Why not go stir-fry since I heard your family runs a restaurant, you should be holding a wok instead of a ball!

I like Chinese food, after the game I'm going to patronize your family's place then take a dump in your kitchen because you also came to our turf to crap, because you are a piece of crap..."

The relentless verbal assault finally angered Guoyang, and after a ball went out of bounds, he ran to the sidelines and pointed at the big head asking, "What's your name, dirty kid?"

"Fuck you, you're the fucking kid—I'm your daddy! I'm Gary, Gary!"

"OK, Gary. Fuck you, Gary!"

All the black students around started jeering; they knew these two were locked in confrontation.

The teenager named Gary got energized, stood up from where he'd been sitting, and approached the sideline to continue firing at Guoyang.

Guoyang settled into the low post, Franklin passed the ball to Guoyang, who received it and with a back-down bumped Herbert out of the way, faked him, took a step, and cut into the basket for a one-handed dunk for two points!

After scoring, Guoyang ran to the sideline and pointing at Gary said, "That's your fucking welcome gift, we're not done!"