The projector flickered, filling the dim film room with the grainy light of Vorpal's last match. The players of Inner Harbor Prep, Harbor Kings sat in a semicircle, restless but attentive. The national semi-final was days away, and every second of tape mattered.
On screen: Ethan Albarado whipping a no-look pass through traffic, threading the needle between defenders as if the ball was magnetized to his teammate's hands.
Mrs. Sora Nakamura, calm yet sharp as a blade, let the clip play twice before pausing.
"Eyes up here. What do you notice?"
Jamal "Jet" Robinson, the captain and point guard, leaned forward. His grin was quick, cocky.
"He sells the fake with his eyes. Defender bites left, but the pass goes right. He's not just passing, he's orchestrating. You cut one lane, he opens another."
Sora nodded.
