Under the basket, Uozumi gave everything he had to contain Morishige Hiroshi.
Even so, Hiroshi remained ferocious. Using his overwhelming strength, he forced open a sliver of space, spun, and went up for a layup.
"Smack!"
Akagi seized the timing perfectly.
He stepped over and smashed the ball hard against the backboard, then secured the rebound.
"This guy has zero adaptability," Hyuga Yuichi muttered from the sidelines. "Does he really think he has to force every shot?"
To Hyuga, Hiroshi was clearly wasting possessions.
After Uozumi's entry, the impact was immediate.
Defensively, he and Akagi formed a solid wall that significantly limited Hiroshi's dominance.
Although Hiroshi could still score from time to time, his efficiency had dropped sharply.
Seizing this opportunity, the veteran team—led by Uozumi—began scoring smoothly from both inside and outside. Their ball movement became fluid, and the gap rapidly closed.
64–67.
Only three points.
Sakuragi bent over, hands on his knees, panting as he stared at the scoreboard.
"When did the Gorilla King become this terrifying…?"
Uozumi was already the tallest player on the court. When he held the ball high and passed downward, Sakuragi could barely interfere.
If he didn't jump, Uozumi would distribute freely.
If he jumped, Uozumi could drive.
Either way, Sakuragi was miserable.
Realizing the mismatch, the rookie team quickly adjusted.
Morishige Hiroshi switched onto Uozumi.
Sakuragi was assigned to Akagi.
Akagi received the ball on the low post.
Sakuragi jammed his right forearm into Akagi's back, successfully preventing him from backing deeper.
Seeing he couldn't force his way in, Akagi began swaying left and right, using rhythm dribbles to create confusion.
Sakuragi grew cautious.
Worried about being spun around, he unconsciously loosened his pressure.
Instantly, Akagi took half a step closer to the basket.
Akagi turned to face up, preparing for a hook.
To his surprise, Sakuragi was still right in front of him.
Sakuragi grinned.
"Gorilla! You won't score! I know all your moves!"
"Hmph."
Akagi sneered. "Don't be ridiculous."
He raised the ball with both hands.
Sakuragi jumped.
Akagi waited.
Only after Sakuragi began descending did Akagi rise and release.
Swish.
After landing, Akagi coldly added, "Idiot. Do you think I don't understand you too?"
"Damn it…"
Sakuragi clenched his teeth.
Fukatsu stood at the top of the arc, eyes locked on Sendo.
"This possession decides it," he called out. "We take the lead!"
"Roar!"
The veteran team's momentum surged.
Rukawa glanced at Sendo.
No words.
But the meaning was clear.
Give me the ball.
Sendo smiled faintly.
Confident.
Relaxed.
He advanced the ball.
As soon as he crossed half-court, Fukatsu slid over to pressure.
Sendo dribbled toward Jin's side.
Jin immediately prepared to screen.
Mitsui stepped up, planning to trap.
The next second—
"What?!" Mitsui exclaimed.
Sendo used a behind-the-back dribble, slipping cleanly between Mitsui and Jin.
Wide open.
Pull-up jumper.
Swish.
Sendo glanced at Rukawa.
See? I can handle it too.
"Tch…"
Rukawa clicked his tongue and ran back.
On the bench, Nango chuckled.
"Everyone's showing off… except Sakuragi, who's getting bullied."
Without Nango on the floor, Sakuragi's weaknesses became more obvious.
No reliable offense.
Constantly dealing with Akagi and Uozumi on defense.
Plus his impatience.
It was only natural he struggled.
Next possession.
Mitsui used a screen to free himself.
Fukatsu attempted a pass, but Sendo's long arm disrupted the lane, delaying it slightly.
Mitsui still received the ball and rose to shoot.
Jin jumped to contest.
Mitsui pulled the ball back and drove—
Then—
Rukawa appeared.
Steal.
Nango sighed.
"When people know each other too well, it really does turn into internal warfare."
Jin recovered the loose ball and dribbled across half-court, then returned it to Sendo.
"Sakuragi!"
Sendo called for a pick.
Though annoyed, Sakuragi moved over.
Akagi hedged but didn't step past the three-point line.
Sendo took one look at the rim.
Pull-up three.
Swish!
Five straight points.
The rookie team's lead expanded to six.
The veteran team's comeback was halted.
Just as Nango had predicted:
Against pick-and-rolls, the veteran lineup struggled badly.
If the rookies seized their chances, they would control the game.
The veterans knew this.
But their personnel simply lacked the tools to fix it.
Anzai Jitsurei remained seated.
He did not adjust.
Only in the final six minutes did he substitute Fukatsu and Matsumoto for two players from Hakata Shodai.
The effect was minimal.
The veterans ultimately lost the scrimmage.
Seeing their low spirits, Anzai Jitsurei clapped his hands.
"Don't dwell on it. It's only a practice game. You'll have other chances."
The players relaxed slightly.
On the surface, Anzai Jitsurei was comforting them.
Inside, however, he was calm.
Most of it is already decided.
The result of this game meant nothing.
What mattered was evaluation.
Observation.
Selection.
And in that regard—
Day One had gone far better than expected.
The first day of training camp concluded successfully.