The semi-final opponent, the Jefferson Jaguars, weren't stars. They were piranhas. Their strategy was simple, brutal, and effective: a relentless, full-court press for all 32 minutes. They didn't have a single player averaging 15 points, but they forced 25 turnovers a game. They didn't beat you with skill; they suffocated you with chaos.
And for the entire first quarter, it was working.
Score: Jefferson 18, Northwood 8.
The Titans were unraveling. Passes were thrown into the stands. Diego was stripped clean twice. The Turnover Probability on every inbound pass flickered at a sickening 65%.
"TIME OUT!" Alex yelled, his voice raw.
The players slumped onto the bench, gasping for air, their eyes wide with frustration. "I can't breathe out there!" Samir wheezed.
"They're everywhere!" Diego added, slamming a towel on the floor.
Alex grabbed his board. "They're not everywhere. They're predictable. Look." He drew the court. "Their press is a 1-2-1-1 trap. The key is the first pass. Samir, you're the release valve, but you're panicking. The moment you catch the ball, you have a 0.8-second window before the double-team arrives. In that window, the long pass to Marcus at the half-court line has an 88% success rate. But you're taking 1.5 seconds, and the window closes."
He turned to Marcus. "You have to meet the pass. Don't wait for it. You slow down, and the probability drops to 30%."
"It's too fast!" Marcus argued.
"It's math!" Alex countered. "They are giving us an 88% solution to break their press. We are just executing it at 30%. The problem isn't their pressure. It's our speed and our decision-making. We are the variable."
The whistle blew. The players looked at him, doubt still in their eyes.
"Trust the percentage!" Alex commanded. "Eighty-eight percent!"
The first play of the second quarter, the Jaguars set their press. Samir took the inbound, and for a heart-stopping moment, he froze. Then, his head snapped up. He saw Marcus, who was already sprinting to the spot Alex had drawn. Samir launched a bullet pass.
The ball sailed over the first line of defense. Marcus caught it in stride, already across the half-court line. The press was broken.
The Jefferson players, shocked that their trap had been solved so cleanly, scrambled to get back on defense. But it was too late. Marcus drove and dished to a trailing Ben for an easy layup.
88%. Result: Score.
It was one basket. But it was a crack in the dam.
The next possession, they did it again. 85%. Score.
Then again. 90%. Score.
The Titans ended the half on a 14-2 run. The score was tied.
In the locker room, the energy had transformed from panic to fierce determination. Alex wasn't done.
"They're going to adjust," he told them. "They'll start cheating on the long pass. So, we adjust too. When the wing defender sags off to stop Marcus, the pass to Diego on the sideline becomes the 95% play. Then, we're playing 4-on-3. That's when we run 'Fist 95' for a corner three. The probability of an open look is 92%."
He was no longer just a coach; he was a grandmaster, predicting the opponent's moves three steps ahead.
The second half became a legendary, tactical war. The Jaguars adjusted, and Alex countered. Every time Jefferson tried a new trap, Alex had a percentage and a play to break it. The game was no longer about athleticism; it was about intellect and execution.
The final score was Northwood 71, Jefferson 68. It wasn't a blowout. It was a hard-fought, strategic victory that left both teams exhausted.
As they walked off the court, the Jefferson coach approached Alex, a look of grudging respect on his face.
"How?" was all he asked.
Alex looked back at his team, who were celebrating not just a win, but a battle they had won with their minds as much as their bodies.
"I just listened to the game," Alex said. "It tells you everything you need to know."
He now knew one thing for certain: the State Championship against Southside would be the ultimate test. Coach Masters would have been studying this game intently. The final boss was waiting, and he would be ready.