Chapter 151: Hold Your Ground, Hold It!

Turgun leaned back on the bench with his eyes closed, forcing himself to relax completely. He tried his best to ignore the gasps of the surrounding crowd, the opponents' uninhibited celebrations after scoring, the stinging sensation from the ice packs pressed against his ankles and knees, and the burning anxiety in his heart for the game.

The "Wolf Pack" tactic possessed tremendous might, yet it placed exceptionally high demands on the players' physical stamina and conditioning. Turgun's athletic ability had made rapid progress compared to a year ago, but he was still unable to sustain a match of such high intensity.

Spectators courtside and viewers in front of their televisions watched as the players on the court executed sudden stops and starts, rapid crossover dribbles, and drove the ball into the basket right through physical contact with effortless ease. Only those directly involved, however, understood the immense burden each of these movements placed on the human body.

Every single stride a player took required the engagement of the ankles; every sudden stop and go called for the coordination of the knees and the entire body; and every change of direction demanded that the majority of the joints in the torso work together simply to maintain balance. The human body is a vast system, yet its critical components are simultaneously subjected to enormous stresses originating from everyday life.

Ice application served merely as the most rudimentary auxiliary recovery method. By stimulating blood circulation around the joints, it aimed to alleviate pain and reduce pressure. However, this was merely an external aid; to recover stamina in the shortest possible time, what was truly required was the player's complete and utter mental and physical relaxation.

While Turgun struggled to calm and relax himself to recover his energy as quickly as possible, Cai Aihong and Hawuer were running like their lives depended on it out on the court. Even though the opponents' offense had found its rhythm, the two men strived to fulfill their duties—attacking, scoring, maintaining pressure on the adversary, and waiting for the return of the team's true core.

After the game resumed, the North American Youth Team attempted to slow down the pace. Although their offense continued to rely primarily on Robert Lee's isolation plays, the perimeter movement of players like Zhu Guoqing and Ricardo grew increasingly aggressive.

Robert Lee had carried a festering grievance throughout the match. First of all, he felt that where he belonged was the NBA hardwood, not this competition which felt like child's play. Although the current game was pressing him hard, deep down he still harbored an intense sense of superiority. He began to play more selfishly, and his physical actions grew progressively rougher. While sometimes unintentional, his elbows clashed more and more frequently with Hawuer's chest and abdomen. Yet Hawuer, that stubborn brute, stood planted like a rock, refusing to yield an inch. In truth, had Hawuer been a bit cleverer, Robert might well have been disqualified long ago due to foul trouble.

Hawuer had performed rather ordinarily in all previous matches, largely regarded as a peripheral figure. Up to this point in the present game, however, he had already snatched 13 rebounds, including three on the offensive glass. It was fair to say that he single-handedly stabilized the team's rebounding. He wanted to prove himself a true man, to prove it to many people, especially to Azyguli, who was currently watching the broadcast motionless in front of her television.

Cai Aihong felt the discomfort creeping through his body—from his ankles to his knees, accompanied by waves of aching soreness in his lower back. As a towering player standing well over two meters tall, he expended significantly more energy than an average player.

In his childhood, Cai Aihong had possessed a frail constitution, frequently hospitalized for mild colds, sometimes even admitted to the intensive care unit. Later, following a friend's advice, his parents sent him to a spare-time sports school to exercise. Initially, he practiced table tennis, then transitioned to long-distance running. However, as he continued to grow taller, he became unsuited for long-distance running and had to drop out of the sports school. In his hometown—a small, remote county—there were neither specialized basketball coaches nor the necessary financial investment, and his family certainly could not afford to support Cai Aihong in becoming a professional basketball player. Consequently, Cai Aihong had no choice but to return to a regular school for his education.

Although he failed to become a professional athlete, thanks to his early years of training, Cai Aihong possessed remarkable stamina and wrist flexibility for someone of his height. However, he fell severely short when it came to physical confrontation.

Throughout all the training sessions, Wang Lei had never asked Cai Aihong to engage in specialized physical contact drills. Instead, he tailored new movement patterns and playing styles to suit Cai Aihong's unique traits. Cai Aihong's role on the team was to stretch the floor and stabilize the shooting, and he was not even required to participate heavily in defensive running and scrambling.

Even so, Cai Aihong had burned through an enormous amount of energy during the "Wolf Pack" sequence in the first half of the third quarter. After all, compared to the other players, it was as if he had been running while carrying a large sack of rice, placing a crushing burden on his body.

The North American Youth Team's aggressiveness escalated steadily, and every physical collision served as a severe test for Cai Aihong. The upbringing he received in his youth left him completely ignorant of the concepts of surrender and compromise. To Cai Aihong, the privilege of joining such a team made him feel immensely fortunate; he wanted more, he dreamed bigger. At this moment, all he needed to do was persevere—to hold on, to endure, and to finish every single shot he took.

By tightening their defense, the North American Youth Team suppressed the scoring efficiency of the Xinjiang Youth Team. With Turgun's departure, the Xinjiang Youth Team seemed to have lost its soul. Although Cai Aihong, Hawuer, and the others poured every ounce of effort into their play, certain gaps could not be bridged by sheer hard work alone. Once the North American Youth Team targeted Cai Aihong, the offensive options left for the Xinjiang Youth Team dwindled to a handful.

As the score gradually narrowed, Wang Lei felt the pressure mounting on him as well. Although his team still held the lead, he knew all too well that his hasty deployment of the "Wolf Pack" strategy a moment ago was akin to quenching thirst by drinking poisoned wine. Yet Wang Lei had no other choice; he was acutely aware of the vast disparity in individual talent between the two rosters. All he could do was exploit the team's distinctive strengths to suppress the opponent to the utmost, leaving the ultimate victory to depend entirely on whether his players could stand firm under fire.

Having rested for a few minutes, Turgun's complexion carried a distinct flush. His skin was naturally fair, making this reddish tint all the more striking. Wang Lei recognized this as a sign that Turgun was approaching his absolute limit.

"Coach, put me back in. I've rested enough."

As the North American Youth Team trimmed the deficit down to just six points, anxiety began to grip Turgun.

"Go back and keep resting."

Wang Lei, however, firmly rejected Turgun's plea. He knew that sending Turgun back onto the court prematurely would be entirely pointless. Rather than doing that, it was better to continue waiting.

All Wang Lei could do now was offer silent prayers in his heart, praying that his players would hold their ground.

"Hold on. Just hold the line."

Though the words sounded somewhat awkward aloud, they reflected the truest thoughts in Wang Lei's heart.