Chapter 148 Halftime Intermission

"Dalei, are you really going to go through with that? Isn't it too risky?"

"Yeah, Dalei, once we use this tactic, there's no turning back. Shouldn't we be a bit more cautious and wait? Maybe deploy it in the latter half of the fourth quarter?"

Inside the locker room of the Xinjiang Youth Team, Wang Lei had just laid out the strategy for the start of the second half, but his arrangements were met with lingering doubts from assistant coaches Xue Yongjiang and Xu Hui.

"Old Xue, you know as well as I do that this tactic is a one-off wave; it drains a tremendous amount of player stamina. If we don't use it now, I'm afraid we won't even be able to execute it by the fourth quarter. Besides, we currently hold a slight lead, and they are definitely going to ramp up their offense in the third quarter. That is our window of opportunity. If we don't take the risk now, it will become an uphill battle once we hit the rotation phase."

Wang Lei harbored deep concerns regarding the second half. Although the team appeared to have a lead, Wang Lei knew that only their starting lineup could stand on equal footing with the opponents. When it came to bench depth, the North American Youth Team was simply too formidable. Once the starters failed to break the deadlock and both sides began rotating players, the Xinjiang Youth Team would likely struggle to hold the line.

This was precisely why Wang Lei decided to have his players deploy a rather aggressive tactic right at the start of the third quarter—no, an extremely aggressive tactic.

The players, however, were remarkably receptive to Wang Lei's decision. Even Wang Zhaohui, typically the most composed player on the team, held a particular fondness for that style of play, as it had a natural tendency to fire up the players on the court.

Among the youth, how many didn't love passion and adrenaline?

"Elder Lin, might I ask a favor of you?"

While the players retreated to the locker room during halftime, television broadcasters also took a brief respite during the commercial breaks. After all, they were ordinary people with natural urges. At that moment, Huang Zhoucheng, the chief basketball anchor for CCTV Sports Channel, looked pleadingly at Lin Zhifei, the veteran pundit who had spent the first half "tearing everyone apart with his big mouth."

"Elder Lin, could you please tone it down a bit in the second half? You might not care, but I have to look out for my livelihood! I just paid the down payment on a flat earlier this year, and after paying the monthly mortgage, I barely have enough left for food. Have some mercy and take pity on me, please."

As Huang Zhoucheng spoke, tears welled up in his eyes. Despite his glamorous appearance on television, his income was little higher than that of an average working-class citizen. Furthermore, he had bought an apartment near the television station, completely draining his savings.

"Indeed, Brother Lin, please exercise some restraint. We wouldn't want you to implicate others, would we?"

Zhang Guohai chimed in at the opportune moment to support Huang Zhoucheng. He, too, was terrified that Lin Zhifei would continue speaking with such reckless abandon, leaving no safety net for anyone else.

"Fine, I get it. I was in the wrong today; I promise I won't say another word in the second half."

Seeing the two men pleading so desperately, Lin Zhifei finally relented. Besides, he had pretty much said everything he wanted to in the first half, so he could at least give these two cowards some face.

Compared to the Earth timeline, the arenas in the cities of this Republic placed a significant emphasis on arena culture and perimeter investments. Some characteristic provinces even featured local-themed shops inside their venues. For instance, in Sichuan Province, VIP fans who purchased season tickets could even enjoy eating hot pot while watching the game.

One of the defining traits of Jinghai City was its abundance of street food. Consequently, numerous snack stalls were set up outside the arena.

Jianbing guozi, twisted dough twists, and fried pastry cakes—various snacks with distinct Jinghai characteristics would be smuggled into the arena by hungry fans during halftime. While this inevitably increased the venue's cleaning and sanitation costs, when one calculated the resulting revenue and popularity, this minor expense paled in comparison.

Some players had once posted on Xunbo, claiming that playing an away game in Jinghai was an ordeal because every second half felt like torture. On one hand, they had to fight against the home team and fans, and on the other hand, they had to endure the onslaught of various culinary aromas.

One had to admit that the scents of certain snacks could be utterly tantalizing—such as a freshly made jianbing guozi packed with eggs, grilled sausage, finely chopped scallions, and cilantro.

Coincidentally, Old Zhang, sitting courtside, happened to be clutching just such a bag.

Beside Old Zhang, Li Weihong and Ma Pingdong watched as the veteran—dressed in a leather jacket with his sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead—held the jianbing guozi in one hand and a can of beer in the other, eating and drinking with sheer delight. The two couldn't help but sigh inwardly; this rascal was still as unruly as ever.

Li Weihong was not attending the match in an official capacity today; she was purely here as a private individual. In truth, Old Zhang had not anticipated her arrival. For years, he and his childhood friend's wife had never seen eye to eye. Old Lao felt she was too high-strung, acting like a fierce tigress, while the "tigress" thought Old Zhang was too wild and completely devoid of decorum.

"Hey, you know what? These Jinghai jianbing guozi are actually top-notch. The only thing missing is a dollop of sesame paste. It would be absolute perfection with some sesame paste."

As a seasoned Beijinger of the old school, sesame paste was an absolute staple of their lifestyle. They would dip practically anything into sesame paste.

"I say, Old Lao, can you tone it down a bit? You're a celebrity, for goodness' sake; don't you care about your image at all?"

Even Ma Pingdong felt that Old Zhang's behavior at that moment was rather unseemly.

"What's that supposed to mean? Are celebrities not human? I need to eat when I'm hungry. Eating like this feels great, so why worry about all that nonsense? I don't make a living off this face of mine anyway. Your son-in-law, on the other hand, could easily make a living off his face, yet he insists on relying on his capability—and now he's wasting that capability on something unrelated. Such a waste."

Old Lao had always been displeased with Wang Lei's decision to focus entirely on coaching. Even with Li Weihong, a high-ranking professional basketball executive, present, Old Zhang voiced his inner thoughts without the slightest hesitation.

"How can you call that a waste? That's putting talent to its utmost use. Xiaolei is genuinely best suited for his current job. Making him sing would be the real waste—what contribution can singing make to the country? Especially rock music that hardly anyone listens to. What Xiaolei is doing right now is a genuine contribution to the country, and he will make even greater contributions in the future."

"You—what do you mean by 'rock music that hardly anyone listens to'? What do you know? Contributing to the country? Heh, making a paltry sum like that while contributing? Aren't you afraid of embarrassing people? If you ask me, you shouldn't have let Xiaolei go to Xinjiang in the first place. Where isn't one making a contribution? You just looked down on Xiaolei back then and banished him to Xinjiang out of pure malice."

Li Weihong had not expected Old Zhang to speak so directly. Those words truly struck a raw nerve.

"You—"

"Alright, alright, must you two bicker? What did we come here for? Watch the game, watch the game, it's starting!"

Ma Pingdong had no choice but to step between them and separate the two. Fortunately, the third quarter was about to begin.