20demayo Chapter 162
Chapter 162
"Lin Feng, your left-hand dribbling has a big problem. Your center of gravity is too high, and you're unstable when changing direction. Go back and practice 200 dribbling exercises with your left hand in place and 200 dribbling exercises while moving with your left hand every day."
"Yes."
Training continues.
Crossover dribbling is the most difficult. The between-the-legs dribble—the ball passes between the legs, from right to left. When Lin Feng does this move, his body always unconsciously leans forward, his center of gravity is unstable, and he can't control the ball well, often hitting his heels.
Chen Hao was practicing his crossover dribble on the sidelines. His movements weren't fast, but they were incredibly fluid. As the ball passed between his legs, his body barely swayed, his center of gravity firmly centered. This 1.96-meter tall guy performed this kind of movement for a smaller guard with even more coordination than Lin Feng, who is 1.81 meters tall.
Lin Feng glanced at it and memorized its rhythm.
Then he lowered his head and continued practicing.
Training ended at 5:45.
Everyone was panting. Some were sitting on the floor, some were supporting themselves on their knees, and some were lying down. The floor was covered in sweat, glistening under the light.
Coach Li blew his whistle.
That's all for today. Tactics class is at 7 PM tonight, no lateness allowed.
he's gone.
The stadium was silent for a few seconds, then slowly voices began to rise. Some were complaining about the intense training, some were making plans to buy water at the convenience store that evening, and some were discussing today's physical fitness test results.
Lin Feng sat on the floor, clutching the ball, panting heavily. His clothes were completely soaked; his T-shirt clung to his body, revealing the lines of his back muscles. Sweat streamed down his forehead, stinging his eyes. He wiped them with the hem of his shirt, which tasted salty.
Gao Yuan walked over, sat down next to him, and handed him a bottle of water.
"Have a drink."
Lin Feng took it, unscrewed the cap, and took a big gulp. Water overflowed from the corners of his mouth, ran down his chin, and dripped onto his jersey.
"How did your practice go this afternoon?" Gao Yuan asked.
"So-so. My left hand is really bad."
Gao Yuan nodded. "You have to train your left hand. A defender without a left hand is practically crippled. I trained my left hand for three months straight, eating, writing, and brushing my teeth with my left hand every day. In the end, I couldn't use chopsticks with my right hand anymore."
Lin Feng looked at him. "Was it useful?"
"It works. If you switch to using your left hand for all your daily activities, it should only take about a month. The brain is plastic; if you force it, it will adapt."
Lin Feng remembered this method.
He stood up, picked up the ball, and walked to the sidelines.
"Aren't you leaving?" Gao Yuan followed.
"Throw fifty more."
Gaoyuan glanced at the clock on the wall; it was almost six o'clock. "The cafeteria is almost out of food."
"You guys go ahead, I'll be there in a bit."
Gao Yuan watched his retreating figure, wanting to say something, but swallowed it back. He turned and walked away, then looked back once more after a few steps, shook his head, and left.
Lin Feng stood at the free-throw line and raised the ball.
cast.
The ball bounced off the front edge of the rim and returned.
Pick up the ball, then throw it again.
They're in.
Pick up the ball, then throw it again.
They're in.
He took ten shots in a row, making seven. His shooting percentage was much higher than when he was at the sports school, but it was still far from the provincial youth team's standard. He knew his problem—he was still adjusting to the new shooting form. The new form was more standard, and the force application was more reasonable, but his body hadn't memorized it yet. It needed time, it needed repetition, it needed to repeat it again and again until his muscles etched that movement into his bones.