Everyone is hunted in their own way at Seigaku. From Inui's Data Tennis, strewn with numbers and probablity, to the group of Freshmen who come to 'oooh' and 'ahhh' over every single match. Everybody analyses in their own way, but for some reason Fuji is not persecuted for it.
Inui's tactics could be seen as somewhat underhand, if you were trying to find flaws in his winning streaks. Picking out weakness and predictabilty is what any good player would do. Capitalize, and win. His own flaw, Fuji knows, is that he relies on numbers, and forgets the human element. All players have their finishing moves and styles they come to rely upon, but the kind of players Inui wishes to compete with are the kind who will easily learn to adjust, mimic, and seal other players counters within a heartbeat of a game. Echizen is one of them; Fuji likes to think of himself as another. Tezuka does not even need to think about playing that way; his style surpasses the Junoir High level, and you can't compete with that which is far beyond you. You can only try, and fail.
Echizen knows this; Fuji does too. It fires the will to learn.
Tezuka may understand the human element of tennis better than Fuji himself; a better player all round for his sheer love of the game. It's not his people skills that make his eye so good; it's his knowledge of how people's emotions and game-plays effect whether they win or lose. That is how Fuji and Tezuka differ on their analysing, though they will always come to the same conclusions. Fuji enjoys watching people, knowing them. The more you know, the easier it is to worm your way in and destroy them from the inside, out. Perhaps that is underhand, but when you do it with a smile on your face, no-one sees it that way.
No-one knows you better than yourself, supposedly. In Fuji's case this is mostly true.
no subject
-
Under Glass
-
Everyone is hunted in their own way at Seigaku. From Inui's Data Tennis, strewn with numbers and probablity, to the group of Freshmen who come to 'oooh' and 'ahhh' over every single match. Everybody analyses in their own way, but for some reason Fuji is not persecuted for it.
Inui's tactics could be seen as somewhat underhand, if you were trying to find flaws in his winning streaks. Picking out weakness and predictabilty is what any good player would do. Capitalize, and win. His own flaw, Fuji knows, is that he relies on numbers, and forgets the human element. All players have their finishing moves and styles they come to rely upon, but the kind of players Inui wishes to compete with are the kind who will easily learn to adjust, mimic, and seal other players counters within a heartbeat of a game. Echizen is one of them; Fuji likes to think of himself as another. Tezuka does not even need to think about playing that way; his style surpasses the Junoir High level, and you can't compete with that which is far beyond you. You can only try, and fail.
Echizen knows this; Fuji does too. It fires the will to learn.
Tezuka may understand the human element of tennis better than Fuji himself; a better player all round for his sheer love of the game. It's not his people skills that make his eye so good; it's his knowledge of how people's emotions and game-plays effect whether they win or lose. That is how Fuji and Tezuka differ on their analysing, though they will always come to the same conclusions. Fuji enjoys watching people, knowing them. The more you know, the easier it is to worm your way in and destroy them from the inside, out. Perhaps that is underhand, but when you do it with a smile on your face, no-one sees it that way.
No-one knows you better than yourself, supposedly. In Fuji's case this is mostly true.
-