from the golden generation

Chapter 2 Hard Training
Georgetown University, it's already school time.

The students took their own belongings, some went home, and some chose to hang out.

After Yan Song bid farewell to Iverson, he has been in the school gymnasium.

In the middle of the basketball court.

Yan Song was wearing a solid white vest, which was already soaked through.

He's still practicing what the coaches and Iverson taught him.

Yan Song is basically fast, and his dribbling is not as clumsy as it was at noon.

Not to mention being hit in the face by a basketball while dribbling.

"Hoohoo."

Yan Song bent down, drank the water he brought, took a towel from his bag, and wiped the sweat off his head.

After sorting myself out.

Yan Song didn't slack off in the slightest, and got up to continue training.

This time, he was walking while practicing dribbling.

He hopes and desires that he can become a character like Alengo.

It's a pity that masters are not made in a day, and Yan Song also understands this.

He practiced like this.

An hour, two hours, until nine o'clock in the evening, did the security guard come.

"Hey, what are you doing here so late?"

"train."

Yan Song was so tired that he didn't even want to say a few more words.

The security guard turned on the flashlight and shone it on Yan Song's face. Yan Song was so stabbed by the light that he couldn't open his eyes.

When the security saw Yan Song clearly, he said, "Are you the yellow man next to Iverson?"

The words fall.

Yan Song felt a little uncomfortable, yellow race, yes, he is Asian Chinese.

He came to the United States with his parents, but his parents abandoned him.

Yan Song didn't give up, but some people here don't seem to like yellow people very much.

That is racism.

"Come on and go home."

The security guard continued to shake Yan Song with a flashlight, and Yan Song silently put down the basketball.

There was nothing he could do about it, he could only pack up his belongings and go home amidst the urging of the security guards.

Looking at the dark sky, Yan Song first put the hoodie on his head.

He didn't want people on the street to see his face clearly and see his skin color.

Without Brother Alun by his side, Yan Song was as restless as ever.

Then he quickened his pace and ran back home in a hurry.

The distance is a bit long, and Yan Song doesn't want to spend money to travel by car to save time.

He has a few dollars left, and he wants to buy some basketball equipment.

...

Waiting for home.

Yan Song found that there are more homeless people on the street today than before.

When he got to the house, Yan Song threw a few coins into the homeless man's tin can.

The tramp watched Yan Song leave gratefully.

"God bless you."

"hope so."

Yan Song said it.

Walked into the small bungalow and turned on the dim light.

Although the facilities in the house are dilapidated, Yan Song has only tidied them up.

Keep the house from looking like a mess.

Putting down his backpack, Yan Song took two packs of instant noodles from the carton.

Heat it casually with hot water, pour in the condiments, and eat it without leaving the soup.

The instant noodles were in his stomach, but Yan Song only ate a four-fifth packet.

He is 1.9 meters tall, only this year, and he is in his youth.

It's a pity that he doesn't even have food and clothing problems, and he needs to save instant noodles.

After cleaning the dishes, Yan Song lay on the bed without taking off his clothes.

I fell asleep in a daze, I am too tired today.

in a dream.

Yan Song is in the NBA Draft, and the people around are cheering.

The boys nearby were also sitting around them, and they were accompanied by their parents and family members.

But for me, the seat seemed bare, and I was the only one.

On the stage, David Stern was about to announce tonight's champion, just when the name was about to be announced.

wake up…

This sleep was more sweet than ever.

Yan Song simply tidied up his clothes, washed up, and hurried to Georgetown University.

On the way, Yan Song simply bought a piece of bread.

When I got to the school gate, I just ran into Iverson.

Yan Song just wanted to go forward, but stopped because of the people around Iverson.

All of them are vicious, with tattoos and various gang patterns on their bodies.

Yan Song was stunned for a moment, and then slowly walked into the school gate when the other party left.

However, after entering the school, Yan Song did not intend to study in the classroom.

Now his goal is very clear, which is to go straight to the basketball hall and continue training.

Yan Song did what he said, and Yan Song didn't procrastinate at all.

When he walked into the basketball arena, there was no one in the room.

But it doesn't matter, it's exactly what Yan Song wanted.

It is also wonderful to train quietly alone.

Put down the backpack, pick up the basketball, and repeat those few sets of dribbling movements.

It took three hours to practice like this, and Yan Song was a bit boring.

What's even more strange is that the other team members haven't arrived yet.

"Crench."

The door was pushed open.

Yan Song looked at Iverson who came in, and took care of him.

"Morning, Brother Aaron."

"morning."

Iverson took off his coat and continued.

"How's the dribbling practice going?"

"It's not bad, I have learned all the moves you taught me."

After Yan Song finished speaking, he stood up and dribbled the ball.

The crotch, back movement, alternating left and right hands, all movements are completed, but they are not very proficient.

Seeing Yan Song who is progressing fairly fast in his studies, Iverson smiled gratifiedly and said.

"Practice more after dribbling, and hit the ball vigorously on the spot."

After finishing speaking, Iverson took the basketball and said.

"Today I will teach you how to score. On the field, you just need to put the ball into the basket."

After Iverson finished speaking, it was another standard mid-range shot.

The basketball hit the net, and Iverson raised his eyebrows, asking Yan Song to try it too.

And Yan Song, who learned the lesson from yesterday, walked to the basket with the basketball and ate the ball with both hands.

Throwing it to the basket, the basketball passed through the basket from below and fell down again.

After finishing this series of actions, Yan Song looked at Iverson who was covering his face.

...

"Look, I'll only teach you once."

Iverson holds the basketball in his right hand, and his left hand is used as an auxiliary hand, placed on the left side of the basketball.

Iverson slowly made a shooting motion, and the ball was released.

The left hand used as an aid is naturally relaxed, and the basketball is thrown with the right hand, and the fingers exert pressure on the wrist.

Makes the ball spin when thrown, thus increasing the chance of hitting a goal.

"Bangdang."

The ball hit the iron and Iverson pulled his face down.

Definitely you influenced me, absolutely.

Seeing the other party looking at him like this, Yan Song thought it was telling him to practice quickly.

Then I learned Iverson held the ball with both hands, raised the ball with his right hand, and used his left hand as an assist, and threw it hard.

Of course, Yan Song did not forget to press his wrist.

However, at the moment of the shot, Iverson discovered the problem with Yan Song's shooting.

When Yan Song made the shot, his left hand, as the auxiliary hand, participated in the power of the shot.

Although the strength of the assisting hand will not affect too much, Iverson pursues perfection, said.

"Don't exert force on the auxiliary hand."

The words fall.

Yan Song threw another ball, but this ball still participated in the effort with his left hand.

"Again, don't exert force with your left hand, restrain yourself."

Yan Song was a little anxious, but being urged by Iverson, Yan Song still participated in the shooting with his left hand.

Iverson smiled evilly, and then took a roll of tape from his backpack.

Bind Yan Song's left hand tightly.

"Brother Alun, it's not possible."

"Hurry up and shoot the ball. After you get over it, complete two hundred goal training."

"what?"

　A lot of support, recommended tickets, favorites.

　　


(End of this chapter)