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((Forward: These review take more out of me than I thought they would. Luckily I've managed to get get out a review before the next chapter came out, so I SHOULD be okay for what few are left.))
Welcome to Game Hunter's review of Eyeshield 21. The purpose of these reviews is not to summarize the events in the chapter: I will assume you've already read through the chapter and have a simple understanding of what happened. (For those of you who haven't, I highly recommend a good read before continuing on.) Instead, I will go into detail the points I find most important in terms of the match, the story, and the characters. Most often this will bring about pictures from the past, ideas about the future, and reflections on what was seen but was not understood. If anything, I hope that you, the reader, will gain a better knowledge and perception of the manga. With that in mind, let us begin...
Though Taka is, truly, the greatest receiver of Amefuto, Monta has skill that surpasses even greatness...
302nd Down: Listening to the Breath of the Ball
First off, I'd like to make a comment on how the words "catch" and "catcher" are being used in this chapter...it's kind of how we see Sena's true skill, speed, in quotes during the previous chapter. The main argument I have for Monta is not that he is the #1 receiver: on the contrary, even after reading it over and over I still believe Taka is superior in that respect. Typically when you think of the receiver in football, it's the guy who catches the ball, so the better receiver therefore would be the better catcher. This is a false assumption, or at least in the case of this manga. What we are shown here is that "receiving" and "catching" the ball are two very different parts of the position, and while Taka can receive the ball better than anyone, he doesn't understand the true meaning behind catching the ball as Monta does.
The title of the chapter, as odd as the metaphor is, suitably describes the feeling of what Monta is doing. Interestingly enough, it reminds me of another manga, History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi, when one of the main antagonists uses a technique called the "Inner Eye". Here are some links to the specific part, as well as the quoted description:
"The old saying goes, 'the observer's eye is strong, where a seeing eye is weak.' Observing in the sense of seeing the bigger picture. It becomes especially important to use this to observe your opponent's attack pattern in a high level battle!" "Not just observant on the outside, but also on the inside, like balance shifts and breathing to judge your opponent's next reaction." (Battle 137, page 15)
That last part in particular plays a role in this chapter of ES21. Perhaps Monta's "opponent" is not some high-level fighter, but all the same, a football has a very unusual style of moving around. Predicting this movement by observing (not just seeing) the movements of the ball is something only Monta has gained in the manga, something even Taka cannot compete against. This is essentially the idea I had going into this chapter, that Monta's ability comes from his unparalleled awareness in observing (or "listening to" if you will) the ball without regard to the other players.
This last point isn't exactly something we haven't seen before. We've been seeing this kind of transcendental reaction since the days of Seibu, against the mighty locomotive Tetsuma. In fact, against every other high-level receiver Monta has managed to perform a ridiculous stunt or two that has everyone in the stands (including Honjou-san himself) shocked.
But we'll get to that in a moment. As expected, there is a 2-point conversion attempt, and as expected, it's a success. There isn't much to say about it, we all knew it was going to happen lest Deimon's defeat be assured already. Here's where things get fun: we know there are three seconds left on the clock at the beginning of this chapter and one second left at the end. In those two seconds, they manage to score the 2-point conversion and recover the onside kick. Time Control Magician to the rescue!
- Of course, no time is spent during the TFP: time was stopped after the touchdown, it won't continue on as far as extra points are concerned.
- Time doesn't start at the kickoff, either. Why should it? If time was stopped already during the extra point, nothing should cause it to start again until the ball reaches someone's hands.
- Time will only resume when someone touches the ball in play: if that player happens to be on the team kicking the ball (ala on-side or short kick) then the play will also stop, and no time will pass.
Time it takes for all three events to occurs: zero seconds.
Yeah, we know this game has unrelenting similarities to the Shinryuuji match. This is not one of them. It's more like Seibu, so cool your heads.
Most of this is explained in the chapter, but I think it's worth repeating. It's almost hard to believe that the eight-second, 11-point miracle was something Hiruma made up on the spot, given that it's going almost exactly on-schedule up to this point. He wasn't lying, but it was also so impossible that even he didn't believe the situation would present itself. However, it has. Sena just passed Yamato in a running battle, maybe Monta can also perform the impossible and recover the ball before Taka does.
I will admit one thing that makes this game seem less serious than the other matches, however: though there is a massive time crunch that has been going on throughout these chapters, it hasn't been nearly as emotionally-daunting as some similar situations. The ends of chapters 290 and 300 managed to use the time factor effectively in such a way as to keep us, the readers, hooked to see the outcome. But let's just take this chapter, for instance: they talk about how time really isn't a factor if everything goes well, how the time hasn't moved, and they even get to the part where time does move and a frantic chase for the ball comes to pass...and yet I don't feel very rushed about it at all.
Let's compare it to -- let's say -- the Kyoshin (Poseidon) match. One of the most memorable parts of the match was, for me, these few pages. The situation is totally sink or swim, and it's readily apparent to both sides. When Yamato passed Sena, it was amazing how he did it, but the setup and the flow subtly hinted that it was going to happen the whole time. What we have against Kyoshin is a case where we really don't know what's going to happen, and that setup and flow throws us off constantly. There's no reason to believe Sena would get past Kakei, only that he has to do it. Even though it's a battle against the protagonist, and that the reader will believe (until it's shown) that the protagonist will always win, there's at least the tingling sensation that it won't happen. It makes us all the more satisfied to see it happen...and all the more shocked when we don't.
On the other hand, this could also be considered a sort of revelation, that Deimon is finally acting like a real football team. After the first three quarters ended, the situation was definitely quite hopeless: down 35 points, not to mention their team had yet to score a single point. And yet, they were able to gain some cheerfulness because they stopped Teikoku's offense just once: focusing on the small successes rather than the odds of actually winning the game. Even now, with there being one second left and Deimon having possession of the ball (needing only three points to claim victory) the chance of winning is amazingly low. Does it feel like that at all to us, the readers? Are there any feelings of desperation or hopelessness coming from the members of Deimon?
Even though we don't get the same chills down our spines in this, their final, match, Deimon has managed to give us other chills. Who could forget Monta's touchdown, or Sena's first use of D4D? That Hiruma actually put faith in his teammates in spite of the odds, knowing it could very well make the situation even worse? They may not be the same underdog we came to know and love, but it's because they're no longer an underdog that we should cheer for them all the more: they have evolved into a formidable opponent that is forcing the greatest Amefuto high school team into a close confrontation. These are the feelings I get from this match, and though it may not be what I'm used to, it's something I can definitely sink my teeth into.
However, I've stalled long enough: time to take a look at the actual grit of the chapter: the final catching battle between Taka and Monta. Let's compare traits from this match, prior to the chapter.
Taka:
- Impossible jumping height and distance
- Unparalleled aerially
- Never once defeated on offense
Monta:
- Able to shake Taka off twice on the ground
- Devil Backfire rendered ineffective
- Countlessly defeated on offense
So if anything's going to happen for Monta to win, it'll likely meet two conditions: both players are in the same situation, and the competition occurs in a non-aerial battle. The onside kick is an ideal solution, so naturally it's being used here. (Even if the kick wasn't technically onside, it would meet the same requirements...besides, it's not like they have other options, right?)
This brings us to what actually happened. Monta claims (and, indeed, Taka seems to agree) that he heard the respiration of the ball and knew what it was going to do. What does that even mean? To figure it out, let's first look at a previous Monta-moment of ingenuity:
With this, we know that Monta is capable of some ridiculous feat because of his ability to read the ball instantly. Using the same logic, it's quite possible Monta can do other things besides read trajectories. As a matter of fact, he can read the bounce of the ball as well. Just as Ikkyu commented on once before, Monta can't learn actual theory unless he experiences it with his own body, so the things he will end up learning are superior to simply those who read the books. It's kind of like comparing a mathematician who can quickly solve a problem given arbitrary conditions (like numbers or variables) and an engineer who, using his senses and "common knowledge," can do the same thing in his head by simply looking at a situation. Monta has essentially evolved his methods to the point where they are embedded into his long-term memory, accessible at the slightest notice. The key words in the actual text are "knowledge accumulated through experience," and it will make sense if you think about it in that way.
Even if Taka has faster reactions and better reaching capabilities, if Monta can read the play before Taka can then it is Monta who's at an overwhelming advantage. Though we don't see it, I'm pretty sure that Taka has the same sort of epiphany that Yamato gets earlier in the chapter, that Sena and Monta have the kind of skills that are simply inconceivable yet manage to exist as a boundary for even the top of the top. It doesn't change the fact that Monta would still probably lose out in an aerial battle; there are still too many things stacked against Monta, as the ability displayed here cannot be applied to the standard pass. At best Taka is a little shaken up by this loss, which could cause other slip-ups, but I wouldn't have counted on it should other possibilities exist.
Speaking of possibilities, I know a ton of us are thinking that Musashi's going to totally kick a field goal from the current line, setting in stone his legend-name 60-Yard Magnum, but Hiruma knows better than to make it his only option. We probably have three different plays that could work at this point:
- Musashi's kick. Just because it's not a 100% chance of happening doesn't mean it isn't the most likely anyway, both in odds and in character development.
- Sena's run. Let's face it: Yamato is a little demoralized by his last defeat and Sena now has a run that is basically untouchable by anyone. Even the fact that this play is possible makes Teikoku uncertain of whether or not Musashi's kick is really going to come, which will also make it easier for those 60 yards to successfully go flying by.
- Monta's catch. As I said before, Taka could be a little shaken, and the Sagittarius clone might have a chance here (though in long-pass form, similar to Card 21) to make it a third outcome.
What's the lucky number, Hiruma: 11, 21 or 80? "Kekekekeke! Fucking reviewer, that's my line!"
Hiruma knows all of these are possible, now that both Yamato and Taka have been dethroned to some degree, and taking advantage of Teikoku's current morale may increase the chances of a victory even by 0.1%, which is more than enough to smash the Alexanders' wall to pieces. What will actually happen is a matter of what is best for the story, and for that reason I would say we're going to see the Magnum in action. In all seriousness, however, I think the kick itself has a lower chance of succeeding than does the D36D (short for Devil 360 Dimension, my label for what Sena did last chapter...say each character separately for the punny phonetics included) and that it could actually lead to a loss for Deimon. I mean, we have seen everyone get a significant victory, save the linemen (poor guys...but we know they do their job at least as well as Teikoku) so it's not impossible for Deimon to lose. Either next chapter or the one after will settle it for sure, but I will predict them using Sena's run if Deimon actually wins and Musashi's kick if they, instead, lose.
I hope to be pleasantly surprised either way.
The clock is ticking...ticking...ticking.
Welcome to Game Hunter's review of Eyeshield 21. The purpose of these reviews is not to summarize the events in the chapter: I will assume you've already read through the chapter and have a simple understanding of what happened. (For those of you who haven't, I highly recommend a good read before continuing on.) Instead, I will go into detail the points I find most important in terms of the match, the story, and the characters. Most often this will bring about pictures from the past, ideas about the future, and reflections on what was seen but was not understood. If anything, I hope that you, the reader, will gain a better knowledge and perception of the manga. With that in mind, let us begin...
Though Taka is, truly, the greatest receiver of Amefuto, Monta has skill that surpasses even greatness...
302nd Down: Listening to the Breath of the Ball
First off, I'd like to make a comment on how the words "catch" and "catcher" are being used in this chapter...it's kind of how we see Sena's true skill, speed, in quotes during the previous chapter. The main argument I have for Monta is not that he is the #1 receiver: on the contrary, even after reading it over and over I still believe Taka is superior in that respect. Typically when you think of the receiver in football, it's the guy who catches the ball, so the better receiver therefore would be the better catcher. This is a false assumption, or at least in the case of this manga. What we are shown here is that "receiving" and "catching" the ball are two very different parts of the position, and while Taka can receive the ball better than anyone, he doesn't understand the true meaning behind catching the ball as Monta does.
The title of the chapter, as odd as the metaphor is, suitably describes the feeling of what Monta is doing. Interestingly enough, it reminds me of another manga, History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi, when one of the main antagonists uses a technique called the "Inner Eye". Here are some links to the specific part, as well as the quoted description:
"The old saying goes, 'the observer's eye is strong, where a seeing eye is weak.' Observing in the sense of seeing the bigger picture. It becomes especially important to use this to observe your opponent's attack pattern in a high level battle!" "Not just observant on the outside, but also on the inside, like balance shifts and breathing to judge your opponent's next reaction." (Battle 137, page 15)
That last part in particular plays a role in this chapter of ES21. Perhaps Monta's "opponent" is not some high-level fighter, but all the same, a football has a very unusual style of moving around. Predicting this movement by observing (not just seeing) the movements of the ball is something only Monta has gained in the manga, something even Taka cannot compete against. This is essentially the idea I had going into this chapter, that Monta's ability comes from his unparalleled awareness in observing (or "listening to" if you will) the ball without regard to the other players.
This last point isn't exactly something we haven't seen before. We've been seeing this kind of transcendental reaction since the days of Seibu, against the mighty locomotive Tetsuma. In fact, against every other high-level receiver Monta has managed to perform a ridiculous stunt or two that has everyone in the stands (including Honjou-san himself) shocked.
Top Left: 150th Down, page 2. Top Right: 188th Down, page 15. Bottom Left: 235th Down, pages 12-13. Bottom Right: 225th Down, page 4.
It's not just tenacity here: Monta is showing off some serious mad skillz. If only the rest of us were willing to idiotically chase after a ball for ten years.
It's not just tenacity here: Monta is showing off some serious mad skillz. If only the rest of us were willing to idiotically chase after a ball for ten years.
But we'll get to that in a moment. As expected, there is a 2-point conversion attempt, and as expected, it's a success. There isn't much to say about it, we all knew it was going to happen lest Deimon's defeat be assured already. Here's where things get fun: we know there are three seconds left on the clock at the beginning of this chapter and one second left at the end. In those two seconds, they manage to score the 2-point conversion and recover the onside kick. Time Control Magician to the rescue!
- Of course, no time is spent during the TFP: time was stopped after the touchdown, it won't continue on as far as extra points are concerned.
- Time doesn't start at the kickoff, either. Why should it? If time was stopped already during the extra point, nothing should cause it to start again until the ball reaches someone's hands.
- Time will only resume when someone touches the ball in play: if that player happens to be on the team kicking the ball (ala on-side or short kick) then the play will also stop, and no time will pass.
Time it takes for all three events to occurs: zero seconds.
Yeah, we know this game has unrelenting similarities to the Shinryuuji match. This is not one of them. It's more like Seibu, so cool your heads.
Most of this is explained in the chapter, but I think it's worth repeating. It's almost hard to believe that the eight-second, 11-point miracle was something Hiruma made up on the spot, given that it's going almost exactly on-schedule up to this point. He wasn't lying, but it was also so impossible that even he didn't believe the situation would present itself. However, it has. Sena just passed Yamato in a running battle, maybe Monta can also perform the impossible and recover the ball before Taka does.
I will admit one thing that makes this game seem less serious than the other matches, however: though there is a massive time crunch that has been going on throughout these chapters, it hasn't been nearly as emotionally-daunting as some similar situations. The ends of chapters 290 and 300 managed to use the time factor effectively in such a way as to keep us, the readers, hooked to see the outcome. But let's just take this chapter, for instance: they talk about how time really isn't a factor if everything goes well, how the time hasn't moved, and they even get to the part where time does move and a frantic chase for the ball comes to pass...and yet I don't feel very rushed about it at all.
Top: 149th down, pages 16-17. Bottom: 302nd Down, page 16.
Same situation, different tension. Which one do you consider to be more exciting?
Same situation, different tension. Which one do you consider to be more exciting?
Let's compare it to -- let's say -- the Kyoshin (Poseidon) match. One of the most memorable parts of the match was, for me, these few pages. The situation is totally sink or swim, and it's readily apparent to both sides. When Yamato passed Sena, it was amazing how he did it, but the setup and the flow subtly hinted that it was going to happen the whole time. What we have against Kyoshin is a case where we really don't know what's going to happen, and that setup and flow throws us off constantly. There's no reason to believe Sena would get past Kakei, only that he has to do it. Even though it's a battle against the protagonist, and that the reader will believe (until it's shown) that the protagonist will always win, there's at least the tingling sensation that it won't happen. It makes us all the more satisfied to see it happen...and all the more shocked when we don't.
On the other hand, this could also be considered a sort of revelation, that Deimon is finally acting like a real football team. After the first three quarters ended, the situation was definitely quite hopeless: down 35 points, not to mention their team had yet to score a single point. And yet, they were able to gain some cheerfulness because they stopped Teikoku's offense just once: focusing on the small successes rather than the odds of actually winning the game. Even now, with there being one second left and Deimon having possession of the ball (needing only three points to claim victory) the chance of winning is amazingly low. Does it feel like that at all to us, the readers? Are there any feelings of desperation or hopelessness coming from the members of Deimon?
Above all, does this look like a team that's about to lose?
The answer is no, and we should be damn grateful for it.
The answer is no, and we should be damn grateful for it.
Even though we don't get the same chills down our spines in this, their final, match, Deimon has managed to give us other chills. Who could forget Monta's touchdown, or Sena's first use of D4D? That Hiruma actually put faith in his teammates in spite of the odds, knowing it could very well make the situation even worse? They may not be the same underdog we came to know and love, but it's because they're no longer an underdog that we should cheer for them all the more: they have evolved into a formidable opponent that is forcing the greatest Amefuto high school team into a close confrontation. These are the feelings I get from this match, and though it may not be what I'm used to, it's something I can definitely sink my teeth into.
However, I've stalled long enough: time to take a look at the actual grit of the chapter: the final catching battle between Taka and Monta. Let's compare traits from this match, prior to the chapter.
Taka:
- Impossible jumping height and distance
- Unparalleled aerially
- Never once defeated on offense
Monta:
- Able to shake Taka off twice on the ground
- Devil Backfire rendered ineffective
- Countlessly defeated on offense
So if anything's going to happen for Monta to win, it'll likely meet two conditions: both players are in the same situation, and the competition occurs in a non-aerial battle. The onside kick is an ideal solution, so naturally it's being used here. (Even if the kick wasn't technically onside, it would meet the same requirements...besides, it's not like they have other options, right?)
This brings us to what actually happened. Monta claims (and, indeed, Taka seems to agree) that he heard the respiration of the ball and knew what it was going to do. What does that even mean? To figure it out, let's first look at a previous Monta-moment of ingenuity:
With this, we know that Monta is capable of some ridiculous feat because of his ability to read the ball instantly. Using the same logic, it's quite possible Monta can do other things besides read trajectories. As a matter of fact, he can read the bounce of the ball as well. Just as Ikkyu commented on once before, Monta can't learn actual theory unless he experiences it with his own body, so the things he will end up learning are superior to simply those who read the books. It's kind of like comparing a mathematician who can quickly solve a problem given arbitrary conditions (like numbers or variables) and an engineer who, using his senses and "common knowledge," can do the same thing in his head by simply looking at a situation. Monta has essentially evolved his methods to the point where they are embedded into his long-term memory, accessible at the slightest notice. The key words in the actual text are "knowledge accumulated through experience," and it will make sense if you think about it in that way.
Even if Taka has faster reactions and better reaching capabilities, if Monta can read the play before Taka can then it is Monta who's at an overwhelming advantage. Though we don't see it, I'm pretty sure that Taka has the same sort of epiphany that Yamato gets earlier in the chapter, that Sena and Monta have the kind of skills that are simply inconceivable yet manage to exist as a boundary for even the top of the top. It doesn't change the fact that Monta would still probably lose out in an aerial battle; there are still too many things stacked against Monta, as the ability displayed here cannot be applied to the standard pass. At best Taka is a little shaken up by this loss, which could cause other slip-ups, but I wouldn't have counted on it should other possibilities exist.
Speaking of possibilities, I know a ton of us are thinking that Musashi's going to totally kick a field goal from the current line, setting in stone his legend-name 60-Yard Magnum, but Hiruma knows better than to make it his only option. We probably have three different plays that could work at this point:
- Musashi's kick. Just because it's not a 100% chance of happening doesn't mean it isn't the most likely anyway, both in odds and in character development.
- Sena's run. Let's face it: Yamato is a little demoralized by his last defeat and Sena now has a run that is basically untouchable by anyone. Even the fact that this play is possible makes Teikoku uncertain of whether or not Musashi's kick is really going to come, which will also make it easier for those 60 yards to successfully go flying by.
- Monta's catch. As I said before, Taka could be a little shaken, and the Sagittarius clone might have a chance here (though in long-pass form, similar to Card 21) to make it a third outcome.
What's the lucky number, Hiruma: 11, 21 or 80? "Kekekekeke! Fucking reviewer, that's my line!"
Hiruma knows all of these are possible, now that both Yamato and Taka have been dethroned to some degree, and taking advantage of Teikoku's current morale may increase the chances of a victory even by 0.1%, which is more than enough to smash the Alexanders' wall to pieces. What will actually happen is a matter of what is best for the story, and for that reason I would say we're going to see the Magnum in action. In all seriousness, however, I think the kick itself has a lower chance of succeeding than does the D36D (short for Devil 360 Dimension, my label for what Sena did last chapter...say each character separately for the punny phonetics included) and that it could actually lead to a loss for Deimon. I mean, we have seen everyone get a significant victory, save the linemen (poor guys...but we know they do their job at least as well as Teikoku) so it's not impossible for Deimon to lose. Either next chapter or the one after will settle it for sure, but I will predict them using Sena's run if Deimon actually wins and Musashi's kick if they, instead, lose.
I hope to be pleasantly surprised either way.
The clock is ticking...ticking...ticking.
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