"Alright! Let me change first."
Mr. Russo, the mustached shop manager, grinned with youthful energy he hadn't felt in years. He hurried to the back, pulling on an old #23 Red Bulls jersey and lacing up a pair of AJ6s. Clearly, he was a diehard Jordan fan.
Locking up the shop, Russo flipped the sign to Closed. Together, he and Cory headed toward the nearest basketball courts.
When they arrived, one side of the court was crowded with grade-school kids flinging shots wildly. On the other side, two three-man squads were running half-court pickup.
Resting in the shade of a tree nearby was a massive man.
"Mr. Matsen! You're here too?" Russo called out.
The giant stirred and rose, smiling warmly. This was Ken Matsen, one of Russo's old friends, a mountain of a man standing well over two meters tall—easily 6'8" or more.
"Had nothing to do," Matsen chuckled, stretching his arms. "Saw them playing and it made me itch to join."
Cory blinked. He's enormous… no wonder Haruko once said Mikio was taller than her father. This must be him.
"Mr. Matsen, why don't we form a team?" Cory suggested eagerly. His system sense told him—Matsen might just have skills worth learning.
Russo nodded. "Good idea. Want to join us, Ken?"
"Of course." Matsen grinned.
The three formed a temporary squad. Cory stepped forward toward the players on court to negotiate.
That's when he froze—recognizing a familiar face.
"Tommy?! What are you doing here?"
It was Thomas 'Tommy' Godwin, Cory's former junior high captain from Kitamura.
Tommy brightened. "Cory! Long time no see. Our school organized a spring outing. A few of us ducked out of it to hoop instead."
Cory glanced at his teammates. Indeed—they were all in Crestwood High jerseys.
"Can we jump in?" Cory asked, motioning toward Russo and Matsen.
Tommy hesitated. "I'll check with our captain."
He waved over a broad-shouldered player—Greg Matthews, Crestwood's captain. Matthews stood eye-level with Cory but bulkier, radiating quiet authority.
"I'm Cory Grant from Shohoku," Cory introduced himself. "Any chance we can join?"
Greg's eyes drifted to Matsen towering over everyone. His eyebrows flickered. That size was intimidating. Finally, he nodded. "Sure. It's a public court—we'll rotate in."
With that, they stretched and warmed up. Russo, surprisingly organized, sketched out a few basic tactics to fit their odd trio: Matsen anchored the paint, Cory handled from the perimeter, and Russo floated as a shooter and facilitator.
Soon, one Crestwood squad was eliminated. The winners stayed on—the side led by Captain Greg Matthews and Thomas Godwin.
"Our turn," Cory said, gripping the ball as he prepared to inbound.
On the first play, Cory passed to Russo, who immediately swung it down to Ken Matsen inside.
The defender? Henry Kimura, Crestwood's tallest player. But compared to Matsen, he looked and felt tiny.
Matsen sealed Henry under the basket with ease. Each bump of his massive back sent Henry sliding backward despite lowering his stance.
Bang. Bang. Matsen powered him all the way to the rim, turned, and slammed the ball down hard.
CLANG!
The outdoor rim rattled violently, bending downward as if one more dunk might snap it clean off.
"Take it easy, Ken!" Russo winced. "If that breaks, you'll end up paying for it!"
Outdoor courts weren't built for heavy jams—rust and weather beat down the equipment until every slam felt like a gamble.
Kimura just sighed and shook his head—completely helpless against that brute strength.
"Don't lose confidence, Henry," Captain Matthews clapped his teammate on the shoulder. "Now it's our turn."
Tommy inbounded quickly, passing to Matthews.
Henry sprinted to the corner, his go-to spot. Matsen gave chase, but at near-40 years old and over 230 pounds, his steps were sluggish. Henry set, caught, and released before the giant could close out.
Swish. All net.
Offense switched back. Cory grinned and nudged Russo. "Manager—your shot?"
Russo's eyes gleamed. "Time to show you why they once called me 'The Tiger of Minowa.'"
Confidence radiated from his every step.