Once the suicides were done, they had to get to ladder drills and push-ups. After that, they performed a series of tests that Coach Lester used to test their understanding of the game.
Around this time last year, Noah had flunked out, unable to keep up with the demanding trial.
Strangely enough, Lester's "First to drop, leaves the gym" was a bluff for the tryouts.
Last year, the coach still allowed Noah to participate in the shooting drills and then the live games, which he sucked in. His arms had been too weak to shoot, and during the games, all he did was drag his tired body up and down the court.
But now he was beyond strong. After five sets of ten push-ups, he felt nothing; after running all the laps, he felt slightly warmer. He was at above peak human capabilities already.
When the coach announced the end of the physical training and told them all to line up, many of the tryouts were panting uncontrollably, just barely standing so they wouldn't get thrown out. Even the best of them were sweating profusely.
The sophomores and seniors looked slightly winded but were quickly recovering, but some of them sent confused stares at Noah, who didn't even look like he had run at least. He was standing there with alert green eyes, upright and steady.
Noah ran a hand through his black hair, trying to ignore their stares.
If he could sweat so they would be less suspicious, he would, but as of now, he barely felt winded.
Coach Lester eyed him too, grey eyes unfazed by the apparent ease that this tryout used to go through the physical session. Instead, the coach focused on the next part of the practice.
"Next up, we have live games. I'll give you a couple minutes to rehydrate. But first, I'll separate teams. Five teams, each team will have two starters from our current Wolves. When I call your name, you go where I point."
Lester first called out the seniors; there was actually one junior among them and a graduate that got through eligibility. The five seniors were put as the heads of the five teams, two of them were centers, and only one was a point guard.
Then came splitting up the sophomores: Josh, Neil, Leeroy, Max, and Tyler. The coach managed to split it up in a way that ensured each team had a center and a decent ball-handler.
Next came the tryouts. A couple names were called before Cam walked over to the coach and whispered something into his ear. Lester glanced at Noah, then raised a hand.
"Sorry, lad. I forgot we have a sophomore here. Join McCain and Josh."
Noah walked over to them and nodded to Josh and the senior, McCain, who was a tall, sour-looking young man with long black hair tied into a ponytail.
"You've got a decent build; you'll guard small forward," McCain said casually, not even bothering to look Noah in the eye. "Can you keep up?"
Noah offered him a solid nod; he hoped to guard Leeroy in-game, but there would be switches, so he would get his chance.
"Nice to work with you," Noah said to Josh politely.
The dark-skinned boy glanced at him, then made an agreeing sound, eyes returning to Coach Lester as he divided the teams.
A bit cold, but we'll work with it. I might still need to possess him later.
Soon the teams were divided. Noah shared a small stare with Leeroy, who looked very pleased. He really hoped the fool would keep smiling in the end.
Coach Lester's voice cut into his ears as he started giving instructions.
"You have ten minutes. Figure out your roles. First match we have is McCain vs. Derick."
No time to even watch them play. The first match was Noah's team against Leeroy's, just what he wanted. He followed Josh and the others to a portion of the bleachers, getting some water from an ice chest.
McCain immediately launched into assigning roles to the different players, not caring much about what they could do.
"I'm obviously center, Josh is point guard. The other positions don't matter much; what matters is how we defend. Derick and Leeroy are both strong down low, so we'll pack the paint and let the tryouts shoot."
"What about on offense?" one of the tryouts dared to ask. "What do we do?"
"Spread and stay ready; Josh will pass the ball if you open up and make good cuts," McCain said like it was obvious, staring at the boy. "In the meantime, crash the boards for shots and stay ready."
The other two tryouts didn't look very happy about that. They were smaller than the rest, so Noah guessed they were decent at something.
"Should we tell you what we can do?" the other tryout asked.
McCain sighed. "Not yet. Besides, the game here will be a lot more intense. If you were stronger or faster than the kids you played in high school, just know it won't be the same here."
The two boys simply nodded, looking exasperated. They were bound to try something bold in-game to try and get attention; Noah just had to know what so he could take advantage of it.
The coach's whistle caught their attention. It was time to play.
All the players lined up and shook each other's hands; when Noah reached Leeroy, he had a predatory smile on his face. They both faced forward as the coach walked over the baseline.
"Clean game, play defense, but if you put yourself in a dangerous situation, you leave my gym," Lester warned. "No jump ball, Leeroy's team starts. You have fifteen minutes."
"Yes sir," everyone echoed, running onto the court and taking positions quickly as Leeroy and Derick walked towards the baseline.
"We're playing two-three zone," McCain called out and started pointing at people and their positions. "If they overload any side above the three-point line, ignore them. Keep the zone tight and poke for the ball anytime it enters the paint."
It was simple enough. Two-three meant two people would play closer to the top of their three-point line, and the remaining three would play down, protecting the baseline and corners.
The two smaller guards would play on top; Josh, McCain, and Noah would play down low.
The sound of the ball bouncing drew their attention. The game had started, and Derick, a six-foot-seven senior with a powerful build, was bringing it down the court.
Noah watched carefully, tracking the other four members of the opposing team as they got into position.
Leeroy wasn't on his side of the court, instead stalking through Josh's side.
He clicked his tongue and prepared to defend. A guard was setting a screen for Derick, and the senior came barrelling down Noah's side of the court like a freight train.