Seth jogged back on his side of the court. He didn't even celebrate, nor smile, nor fist pump, not even a glance toward the bench. He just walked back down the court, looking like a bored office worker who just stamped another piece of paper.
That was his Breakball style. He didn't do any of that flashy shit, no behind-the-back dribbles, no blind passes, no showy dunks for the cameras. He just planted his foot, moved in a straight line, and shot the ball.
To Seth, any move that didn't result in points was a waste of time.
He never did anything extra in his life. He was fast, clean, and efficient. He was the kind of player you don't even notice until you look at the scoreboard and see he's destroyed the other team.
And speaking of the scoreboard, it was about to tell a story.
