Free Web NovelThe moment before tip-off.
Cameras in the stands panned over fans waving placards and slogans wildly. On the scoreboard, both teams appeared, visibly tense.
On the left (from the commentary booth’s POV) was the “Left Hand Just Helps” team led by TNT’s Tae-hyun. On the right was the “zi-John Basketball” team captained by Daydream’s Jun.
The announcer and color commentator chattered:
“This is the auxiliary court at the Goyang Indoor Gym. The atmosphere is electric, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely. There are so many storylines to watch.”
A graphic appeared on the big screen, and they continued:
“Will Jun of Daydream—last year’s runner-up—capture gold this time?”
“Or will TNT’s Tae-hyun, hero of last year’s champions, repeat his victory?”
The announcer teased:
“I remember last year Jun seemed so disappointed... he came within an eyelash of winning.”
“It was heartbreaking.”
Last year, Tae-hyun’s team claimed gold with solid fundamentals and teamwork. Meanwhile, despite Jun’s incredible skill, weaker teammates left him with silver.
But:
“This year feels different.”
“Yes—many of last year’s champions have joined Zi-John. Meanwhile, the ‘Left Hand Just Helps’ roster includes two newcomers to this event.”
“What do you think the result will be?”
“Well....”
The former professional player turned commentator spoke slowly:
“I love an NBA quote: ‘A game is started by a player but won by a team.’ Basketball is a team sport. Team chemistry is key.”
“Right now... the game is underway!”
Amid the fans’ roar, the opening tip flew up, and Daydream’s Jun snatched it. At over 185 cm he landed lightly, dribbled, and sprinted. The clock ran two ten-minute halves—so from the tip it was all-out.
Three Zi-John players burst forward at top speed, tearing apart the defense like a trident strike. The crowd couldn’t help but gasp as they passed perfectly and drove the lane:
“Waaaah—!”
Commentators excitedly shouted:
“Amazing teamwork!”
“With almost no time to practice, their cohesion is surprising. ‘Left Hand Just Helps’ barely has a chance!”
In seconds, Jun received another rapid series of passes and drove for a layup:
Swish!
The net rippled, and the scoreboard flipped to [0:2].
“Score in the first twenty seconds!”
“What a fast break!”
Jun high-fived teammates and wore a calm smile. Fans, caught on camera, uttered pterodactyl calls at the handsome headband’d jack of all trades.
The announcer said:
“Great dribble and shot—completely set the tone early... but ‘Left Hand Just Helps’ doesn’t look rocked.”
“No—they’re already preparing their counterattack calmly.”
While coach Yoo Seong-hun frowned with arms crossed, captain Tae-hyun signaled to his teammates: freewebnøvel.com
“Any special play?”
“They’re communicating without words, but understanding each other perfectly.”
“Now it’s their turn to strike back.”
Tae-hyun passed immediately to Street Boys’ Hanjo. Thump, thump—Hanjo dribbled solidly in place, switching the ball between hands with the poise of a practiced hobbyist. He surged past a defender and zipped a pass upcourt:
“Here’s Hwi-yeon!”
“Quick pass—fast!”
Not as tall as Jun or Hanjo, mid-170s Hwi-yeon nevertheless sliced in with sleek speed. A defender tried to block but he deftly fed the ball to a trailing teammate—an almost cavalier pass that was caught perfectly:
“Usan—got it!”
“Amazing speed!”
Where Hanjo anchored, Hwi-yeon and Usan toyed with the defense, paving the way for attack. Then Wild’s Usan darted in like a hunting hound and swung a pass:
“Incredible connection!”
“Not once was the passing rhythm broken! Tae-hyun—he’s got it!”
Tae-hyun, green-haired idol with unparalleled popularity, caught the ball to thunderous cheers. But aside from the noise, things looked grim:
“He’s already ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) been double-teamed.”
“Like a fortress. Tough shot angles there.”
“They surely prepared for last year’s MVP.”
Two defenders leapt to mark him. The commentary continued:
“It looked like shadows clung to him—then he shook them off!”
“Tae-hyun faked in place, then weaved the ball through his legs to fool them.”
Spinning, he shrugged off the two defenders and charged the rim—for a layup. Spectators murmured:
“A layup? That’s tough!”
Indeed, it seemed destined to be blocked by Jun’s height. Passing options were gone—Hwi-yeon and Usan were each covered. His only choice was to finish the shot.
As he drove, Jun rose and extended for the block. But at that moment:
“......?”
Tae-hyun’s body angled toward the basket but he never launched the shot. Instead he veered forward and spun a backward pass:
“......!”
No one expected it. Jun, mid-block, blinked in surprise. As other defenders keyed on Hwi-yeon and Usan, the pass flew:
And—
Snatch.
Like an arrow in bull’s-eye, someone caught it perfectly. On camera:
“Oh—there’s Woo-joo!”
“Masterful positioning.”
NewBlack’s Woo-joo stood there, ball in hand. The commentators roared:
“Wow—that was a gorgeous back-pass from Tae-hyun!”
“But that’s a long way out to shoot from!”
Indeed, he was between the three-point line and half-court—why no one guarded him? He was simply overlooked. As players converged:
“They think he’ll pass—of course he will...”
But...
“......?”
They blinked, confused.
“He’s shooting from there?”
Woo-joo locked on the rim and—before the defenders arrived—jumped in place like slow motion. His form was textbook perfect. The crowd froze, mouths agape, in eerie silence. Then the silence shattered with the swish:
Swish!
“.......”
“.......”
Opponents stunned, while NewBlack’s four members leaped, arms entwined, bellowing:
“Uooaaah!”
“Woo-joo hyung did it!”
Their roars echoed the auxiliary court. On-screen they hugged a tomato-red flushed member and waved golden Gung-ye placards. Souffle in the upper stands joined, squealing and shaking their banners. Laughter and cheers rippled around the arena. In the booth:
“A three-pointer! The first in Idollympics history!”
“They erase the deficit and go ahead! It’s 3–2, ‘Left Hand Just Helps’ leads!”
“Stunning court awareness and teamwork.”
“Tae-hyun’s back-pass and Woo-joo’s three made for perfect synergy.”
“Even Hanjo and Woo-joo, both first-timers, show remarkable skill.”
They agreed:
“This is a breakout star.”
“A rising prospect in idol basketball.”
Though one shot doesn’t define ability, Woo-joo’s move was extraordinary.
“But he seemed the most surprised of all?”
“Now he’s enjoying it!”
On screen, NewBlack’s leader beamed after high-fiving Tae-hyun and teammates. Yet he couldn’t hide a dimpled grin. His joy was contagious, bringing smiles to other spectators:
“What’s so great?”
Even while wondering that, the crowd’s faces mirrored the same joy.
Every match has variables that decide the outcome. Some are entirely unpredictable, some unpredictable but unstoppable. Yesterday on the futsal pitch, my brother Joong-hyun was the former. In this basketball game I was the latter.
“Block!”
“No, him!”
The opposing team flailed, thrown off by the variable they never expected. Squeaking sneakers on the polished floor buzzed near me as my defender shadowed me like a phantom, blocking any path I tried. Each time I feinted, he tensed then relaxed his muscles, wearing a strained expression. But his marking did nothing, because—
“Score by Tae-hyun!”
“The gap’s widening fast.”
My defender looked hollow—he’d been assigned to guard me, but we attacked elsewhere. Hwi-yeon and Usan zipped passes to Tae-hyun’s finish. In five-man basketball, even one open man is huge. We exploited the slack defense like teasing them:
“Argh...”
My marker scrambled back to help, and—
“Woo-joo!”
The ball flew to me. As defenders screamed “Not him again!” I calmly launched. Having once nursed a full-court shot at Juse-Hae, I needn’t worry about accuracy from here. Perfect form. Perfect breath. The net caught the ball with no bounce—
Swish!
The opposing team’s defeated faces filled my view. My team gained another three:
“Waaaah—!”
The crowd cheered. My brothers waved golden placards like I’d founded a nation. But why did Bi-joo’s eyes glisten? She looked like a proud parent at graduation, tears in her eyes, and I fought back a smile. Joong-hyun beamed like a happy rock. Ri-hyuk, pouty, waved a placard until our eyes met—then he used it as a seat cushion. Truly...
“Woo-joo hyuuung!”
And my maknae... please, lower your volume. She had the clarity of a whistle:
“I’m hereeeee!”
“......”
“Wave your shirt if you hear meeee!”
At that moment, Wild’s Usan, coming to high-five, tilted his head:
“They’re calling you over there.”
“Not that close, senior.”
He laughed. I blew a kiss to the Souffle and my brothers. Souffle cheered; my hardy brothers made queasy faces. I saw their eyes:
“Enough, please.”
“Keep it in bounds, hyung.”
“Uncomfortable...”
Embarrassed, I coughed and jogged in place. The game resumed—and a pattern emerged.
Hanjo commanded the ball; the trio attacked the defense. If too many defenders collapsed on them, the ball came out to me for a three. If I were covered, the trio gaped the defense again and scored. No matter what, it worked. The momentum swung swiftly.
Despite Jun’s ongoing barrage of layups, one man alone couldn’t turn the tide. Meanwhile, I focused on court positioning:
“Woo-joo’s on the move again.”
“His court sense is uncanny—a rapid mind at work.”
“Could he be idol basketball’s prodigy?”
I judged spots ideal for a receive or shot, then moved there. Selection and focus: my strategy for this Olympics. I had no iron body like Joong-hyun; I needed to minimize injury risk. Fighting in the paint wasn’t for me—it was too dangerous. My skill lay in mimicking movement, not contact. Without intention, I’d risk a foul-up or controversy. So I chose minimal contact, maximum efficiency: find the spot, wait, shoot. But that wasn’t all—I tracked opponents’ paths.
“Woo-joo!”
When Hanjo passed, I dribbled past half-court. My other task: when defenders lunged at my shoot motion...
“......!”
I crouched and dashed past them to feed a quick long pass. A perfect entry to the attack—my second role. And that pass was meant for Tae-hyun under the basket—
Clang!
... but I misjudged. I threw too long, and Jun of Daydream gobbled it up, dribbled in, and scored.
“Waaaah—!”
Well. Sometimes life doesn’t go as planned. Awkward. I’d just pulled off flashy moves, yet—my teammates shrugged and smiled, grateful for my effort. Everyone except one.
That mischievous green-haired imp trailing behind, clapping:
“Wow, hyung—I’m impressed. Philanthropy to pass even to opponents!”
“......”
“Headline ready: Daydream’s Jun says, ‘Thanks for the assist, Woo-joo.’”
“......I’ll do better.”
I jogged away from our generous captain. Looking to the stands, my brothers were clutching stomachs laughing. When they made eye contact, they raised their placards front then back:
Front: (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و
Back: It’s fine, it’s just black history
The scene drew laughter all around. I could only grin in contentment. Damn...
