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Yang Jie advanced with the ball, constantly aware of the movement on the court.
Defending him head-on was a center, but shorter than himself.
And providing help defense was No. 11 High School's point guard.
Force my way through?
After dribbling the ball between his legs a few times, he made a direct break to the right, but the opponent stuck close, his steps never in disarray, always getting squeezed out of the paint by Yang.
If that's the case, I'll start posting up then.
Dribbling with one hand, using his body against the opposing center, Yang Jie slowly pushed his way closer to the basket.
Damn it, such strong force, is he a bulldozer?
Xu Miao, pushing at Yang Jie's waist, felt numb; it was like trying to stop a bull with bare hands, his considerable bulk completely unable to hold back.
And he was nearing the paint.
Has it been five seconds yet?
Is time passing so excruciatingly?
