Tristain woke to the sound of his phone alarm at 6:30 AM, though he'd been awake for the better part of an hour anyway. Beside him, Marcus was already sitting up, scrolling through his phone with the focused intensity of someone trying to distract himself from pre-game nerves.
"You see the bracket?" Marcus asked without looking up.
"Not yet. What's the damage?"
"Group C. Us, Warren Central, St. Xavier, some team from Milwaukee, and four others I've never heard of." Marcus finally looked at him. "Our first game is against Brookfield Academy from Wisconsin at 10 AM."
Tristain rolled out of bed and moved to the window. The sports complex was visible in the distance, already buzzing with activity despite the early hour. Buses were arriving, players were warming up on practice fields, and he could see the ESPN setup crews positioning cameras around the main field.
"You know anything about Brookfield?" Tristain asked.
"Taylor sent some film to my phone last night. They're good. Really good. Their quarterback threw for 3,000 yards this spring, and their top receiver has offers from Wisconsin and Minnesota."
The information settled in Tristain's stomach like a weight. This wasn't going to be a warm-up game.
"But," Marcus continued, "they haven't faced anything like our chemistry. And they definitely haven't faced anything like you."
As they prepared for breakfast, Tristain felt the familiar pre-game routine settling over him. The nervous energy was there, but it was accompanied by something else—a quiet confidence that had been building over the past few weeks. The System integration felt complete now, seamless, like it had always been part of him.
8:00 AM - Team Breakfast
The hotel restaurant buzzed with the controlled energy of thirty-two elite teams preparing for competition. Players from different programs sat at separate tables, sizing each other up with the careful assessment of competitors who knew they'd be facing each other within hours.
Derrick Taylor had commandeered a corner section for the Flight Boys, complete with a whiteboard he'd somehow procured from the hotel staff. As players filed in with their breakfast trays, he was already drawing up defensive coverages with what appeared to be ketchup packets.
"Morning, aviators," he announced as the team settled around their tables. "Welcome to Sunday's squadron briefing. Our first mission launches in T-minus two hours."
He gestured to the makeshift diagram. "Brookfield Academy runs a spread offense with four-wide receiver sets. Their quarterback—kid named Tyler Kowalski—likes to get the ball out quick. Lots of slants, hitches, and comeback routes."
Tristain studied the diagram while working through his pre-game meal—oatmeal, banana, orange juice. Light enough to avoid stomach issues, substantial enough to maintain energy.
"Their weakness," Taylor continued, "is they don't adjust well to pressure. They've been dominating with timing routes, but when you disrupt that timing, they struggle to adapt."
He looked directly at Tristain. "That's where our chemistry advantage comes in. When their scripted plays break down, we can improvise. They can't."
Marcus raised his hand. "What about their defense?"
"Aggressive but undisciplined. They'll bring pressure, but they also give up big plays. If we can survive their initial rush and find the soft spots..." Taylor made an airplane gesture with his hand. "Clear skies ahead."
As breakfast concluded, players began filtering toward the bus for the short trip to the complex. The nervous chatter had given way to focused intensity—game faces replacing casual conversation.
"Flight Boys," Taylor called as they gathered their gear, "remember what got us here. Trust your preparation, trust your teammates, and trust yourself. We've earned the right to compete with anyone."
9:15 AM - Pre-Game Warm-ups
The field assigned to their first game was Field 6, positioned in full view of the main bleachers where college scouts had already begun claiming their spots. As the Flight Boys took the field for warm-ups, Tristain noticed the immediate attention their arrival generated.
"Look alive, boys," Marcus said under his breath. "We've got an audience."
The warm-up routine was familiar—light jogging, dynamic stretching, individual position work. But everything felt amplified by the setting and the stakes. Each throw was crisp, each route precise, each movement purposeful.
Across the field, Brookfield Academy was running their own warm-ups. Their players moved with the polished efficiency of a program that had been together for years. Their quarterback's arm strength was immediately evident—balls arrived with zip and precision, placed exactly where receivers expected them.
"They look good," Deshawn observed, running a comeback route past Tristain.
"So do we," Tristain replied, delivering a strike that hit Deshawn perfectly in stride.
As the warm-up progressed, Tristain felt his confidence building. The early nerves were giving way to the focused calm he'd learned to trust. His arm felt loose, his reads were sharp, and the connection with his receivers felt telepathic.
"Quarterbacks," Taylor called, "let's see some live timing routes."
For the next ten minutes, Tristain ran through their core passing concepts against air. Slants to Jaylen, comeback routes to Marcus, deep posts to Deshawn. Each throw was placed with surgical precision, each route run with perfect timing.
From the sideline, he could hear impressed murmurs from observers. College coaches were making notes, pointing, having quiet conversations. The attention was flattering but also distracting.
"Focus on us," Marcus said, jogging past him during a water break. "Block out everything else. Just us and the game."
It was exactly what Tristain needed to hear.
9:45 AM - Final Preparations
With fifteen minutes until kickoff, both teams gathered for final instructions. The Flight Boys formed a tight circle around Taylor, who had abandoned his usual theatrical energy in favor of focused intensity.
"This is it," he said simply. "Everything we've worked for leads to the next thirty minutes. Brookfield is talented, experienced, and confident. But they don't have what we have."
He looked around the circle, making eye contact with each player. "They don't have Marcus's determination. They don't have Deshawn's speed. They don't have Jaylen's hands. And they definitely don't have Tristain's ability to make everyone around him better."
Tristain felt the weight of that responsibility, but also the support of his teammates. These weren't just individual players anymore—they were a unit, a system that functioned as something greater than its parts.
"Flight Boys on three," Taylor concluded. "One, two, three—"
"FLIGHT BOYS!"
As they broke the huddle and headed toward the field, Tristain caught sight of the crowd that had gathered to watch. The bleachers were packed with scouts, parents, and players from other teams waiting for their own games. ESPN cameras were positioned at multiple angles.
But all of that faded when he reached the field and saw Brookfield Academy lined up across from them. This was just football now—seven players against seven, execution against execution, preparation against preparation.
Everything else was background noise.
10:00 AM - Game Time
FLIGHT BOYS VS. BROOKFIELD ACADEMY - GROUP C OPENER
The referee gathered both teams at midfield for the coin toss. Tristain, Marcus, and Jaylen represented the Flight Boys, while Brookfield sent their quarterback and two receivers.
"Visitors call it," the referee announced, flipping the coin high into the morning air.
"Heads," Tristain called.
The coin landed tails. Brookfield elected to receive, giving the Flight Boys the opportunity to see their opponents' offense before taking the field themselves.
"Defense, let's see what they've got," Taylor called from the sideline.
As Brookfield lined up for their first possession, Tristain studied their formation from the sideline. Four-wide receiver set, exactly as Taylor had predicted. Their quarterback, Kowalski, moved with the confidence of someone who'd been dominating competition all season.
First Half - Opening Drive
BROOKFIELD'S FIRST POSSESSION
The Wisconsin team came out exactly as expected—spread formation, receivers spaced across the field, tempo designed to keep defenses from adjusting. Kowalski took his position behind center with the casual confidence of someone who'd been in this situation hundreds of times.
1st and Goal from the 25-yard line: Kowalski took the snap from shotgun formation and immediately looked to his slot receiver running a quick slant. The timing was crisp—ball out in 2.5 seconds, exactly as their film study had shown. But North Bridgeton's cornerback, Jamal Williams, was ready for it, having studied the same tendencies. The two-hand touch came immediately after the catch—a 6-yard gain, but clean and decisive.
"Exactly what we expected," Marcus observed from the sideline. "They're going to test our discipline early."
2nd and 4 from the 19: Brookfield shifted into trips formation, putting three receivers to one side and isolating their best player one-on-one. Kowalski took the snap and rolled to his right, extending the play while his receivers worked to find soft spots in coverage.
The throw went to the isolated receiver on a comeback route—8 yards downfield, perfect timing. But again, North Bridgeton's coverage was disciplined. The receiver made the catch but was immediately wrapped up by the cornerback, gaining only 7 yards and a first down.
"They're good," Deshawn said, standing next to Tristain. "Really good. That was textbook execution."
Tristain nodded but felt no concern. Good execution was something they could match. The question was whether Brookfield could maintain that level when the Flight Boys started applying pressure.
1st and Goal from the 12: Now in the red zone, Brookfield changed their approach. Instead of spread formations, they tightened up with two receivers on each side. More traditional, more physical.
Kowalski took the snap and immediately looked for his primary receiver on a fade route toward the corner of the end zone. The throw had good placement, but North Bridgeton's cornerback Devon Carter was in perfect position. He got his hand between the receiver and the ball, breaking up the pass cleanly.
"Good coverage," Taylor called from the sideline. "Stay disciplined!"
2nd and Goal from the 12: Brookfield went back to what they did best—quick timing routes. This time it was a double slant concept, with two receivers crossing at different levels. Kowalski found his slot receiver at the 8-yard line, but the gain was limited by excellent pursuit from free safety Marcus Thompson, who applied the two-hand touch immediately after the catch.
3rd and Goal from the 8: The critical down. Brookfield lined up in empty backfield, spreading five receivers across the formation. Maximum stress on the defense, maximum options for the quarterback.
Kowalski took the snap and had plenty of time to scan the field. North Bridgeton was playing zone coverage, trying to take away the quick throws that had been working. But zone coverage meant soft spots, and Brookfield's receivers were excellent at finding them.
The slot receiver settled into a hole between defenders at the 4-yard line. Kowalski's throw was accurate, and the receiver made a clean catch. But instead of diving for the end zone, he tried to make a defender miss and gain extra yards.
It was a costly decision. North Bridgeton's strong safety Malik Johnson arrived just as the receiver secured the ball, applying a firm two-hand touch that stopped all forward progress. The ball was spotted at the 4-yard line.
4th and Goal from the 4: Brookfield faced a decision—attempt a touchdown on fourth down or settle for no points in 7-on-7 format. They chose to go for it.
Kowalski lined up in shotgun formation with four receivers spread wide. At the snap, he rolled to his right while his receivers ran a combination of routes designed to create confusion in the secondary.
But North Bridgeton's defense had anticipated this moment. They'd been allowing Brookfield's quick timing routes to work while waiting for a situation where they could bring pressure. On fourth down, they sent an extra rusher.
Kowalski felt the pressure coming and tried to escape to his left. But the North Bridgeton defender was faster than expected, forcing an off-balance throw toward the end zone. The ball sailed over everyone's head and out of bounds.
Turnover on downs. Flight Boys' ball at the 4-yard line.
"Our turn," Tristain said, jogging onto the field with his offense.
FLIGHT BOYS' FIRST POSSESSION
The ref blew the whistle, pointing downfield.
"Flight Boys ball at the 4-yard line!"
Tristain jogged into the huddle, brushing a trickle of sweat off his temple. The sun glared off the turf, and the scent of fresh-cut grass mixed with Gatorade and adrenaline.
96 yards… all ours. Let's set the tone.
Marcus slapped his chest pad.
"No baby steps. Let's punch 'em in the mouth early."
Tristain cracked a grin.
"Trips right. 'Stealth Bomber.' Jaylen, slant's yours if they're off. Marcus, clear out with a comeback at 15. Ready?"
The huddle broke. Players jogged to their spots, cleats crunching synthetic turf.
1st and 10 from the 4-yard line
Tristain settled into shotgun, scanning Brookfield's DBs. The safety was creeping toward Marcus's side. Perfect.
They're overplaying Marcus. Good. Let 'em.
He snapped the ball. Quick three-step drop. Jaylen burst off the line into a slant. But the DB jammed him just enough to close the window.
Not there… next read!
Tristain's eyes flicked outside. Marcus planted his foot and pivoted on a crisp comeback. Defender left lunging at air. Tristain flicked a bullet low and outside.
Marcus felt the ball hit his gloves like a shockwave.
Damn, Dyce throws heaters. This one's perfect… right where only I can get it.
He turned upfield, muscling an extra four yards before stepping out at the 20. The sideline roared.
Jaylen jogged over, patting Marcus on the helmet.
"Bro, that cut was FILTHY."
From the fence line, a group of freshmen receivers whooped.
"HE'S HIM! DYCE IS HIM!"
1st and 10 from the 20
Tristain stood tall in the huddle, eyes shining.
We got 'em on skates. Let's keep pushing.
"Gun trips left. 'Red Baron Special.' Deshawn — single coverage. Take that man's ankles."
Deshawn flashed a gold-toothed grin.
"Say less."
At the line, Tristain scanned the DBs. Brookfield's corner was eight yards off Deshawn. Scared. Rightly so.
They're terrified of his wheels. Time to punish 'em.
"Set… hut!"
Tristain dropped back five steps, eyes locked on the safety to hold him inside. Deshawn faked a quick hitch. The corner lunged.
Bait. Hook. Gone.
Deshawn blew past him like a rocket.
From Deshawn's POV:
All I see is green. C'mon, Dyce… drop it in the bucket.
Tristain launched a high-arching spiral. The ball glimmered under the sun, tracing a perfect parabola.
Deshawn extended his arms, tracking it over his shoulder. The ball landed softly in his hands as he coasted into the end zone. Touchdown.
CELEBRATION
Deshawn skidded to a stop and whipped around. He spotted the "Victory Pit"—a foam-padded section near the end zone designated for 7-on-7 celebrations.
"LET'S GOOOO!"
He sprinted and leapt into the pit, backflipping off the edge. Marcus dove in after him, spraying foam everywhere. Jaylen danced on the sideline, busting out the Griddy while teammates cheered.
Tristain jogged toward them, grin stretched wide.
One of the freshman receivers shrieked:
"DYCE, YOU'RE A BAD MAN!"
Coach Taylor yelled from the sideline, flapping his arms like airplane wings.
"AVIATORS FLYIN', BABY!"
ESPN's cameras zoomed in on Tristain as he high-fived Deshawn.
"That's how we do it," Deshawn crowed. "Big plays only."
Tristain laughed, helmet slightly askew.
One drive. One statement. We're not here to play nice. We're here to dominate.
The scoreboard lit up: FLIGHT BOYS 7 — BROOKFIELD 0
BROOKFIELD'S SECOND POSSESSION
Brookfield came back onto the field with increased urgency, clearly rattled by giving up the first score so easily. Their body language was different—tighter, more aggressive, but also more desperate.
1st and Goal from the 25: Kowalski came out with no-huddle tempo, trying to catch the North Bridgeton defense before they could adjust. The play was a quick bubble screen to their slot receiver—simple execution, but designed to get their playmaker in space.
The throw was accurate and the receiver made the catch cleanly. But Deshawn, playing as a two-way player, had read the play perfectly, arriving just as the receiver secured the ball and applying a solid two-hand touch after a 3-yard gain.
"They're pressing," Marcus observed from the sideline. "Trying to force things instead of taking what the defense gives them."
2nd and 7 from the 22: Brookfield shifted into a more traditional formation—two receivers on each side. They were clearly trying to establish some kind of rhythm with their timing routes.
Kowalski took the snap and fired a quick out to the left sideline. The receiver made the catch and tried to turn upfield, but North Bridgeton's cornerback Jamal Williams was right there to apply the two-hand touch, limiting the gain to just 2 yards.
3rd and 5 from the 20: Another critical third down. Brookfield lined up in trips formation, putting maximum stress on one side of the defense. They were clearly going to target their best receiver in a situation where they needed to convert.
Kowalski took the snap and immediately looked toward the trips side. His primary receiver was running a comeback route at the first-down marker—exactly where he needed to be. The throw was accurate and on time.
But North Bridgeton's cornerback Devon Carter had anticipated the route perfectly. Instead of playing behind the receiver, he'd jumped the route, arriving at the catch point simultaneously with the ball. The result was a jarring collision that separated receiver from ball, sending an incomplete pass harmlessly to the turf.
4th and 5 from the 20: Brookfield faced another fourth-down decision. This time, they were too far for a comfortable conversion attempt, but they desperately needed to sustain a drive.
They chose to go for it again.
Kowalski lined up in shotgun formation with four receivers spread across the field. At the snap, he had plenty of time to scan the coverage, but North Bridgeton was playing disciplined zone defense, taking away the quick routes that had been working.
Finally, under pressure from Deshawn coming on a delayed blitz, Kowalski forced a throw toward his slot receiver. The ball was underthrown and intercepted by North Bridgeton's free safety Marcus Thompson at the 15-yard line.
Turnover. Flight Boys' ball at the 15-yard line.
"Defense is playing lights out," Tristain observed as his offense took the field again. "Let's capitalize on this field position."
FLIGHT BOYS' SECOND POSSESSION
1st and 10 from the 15: With excellent field position and momentum clearly in their favor, Tristain felt the game opening up. Brookfield's defense was showing signs of frustration, playing more aggressively but less disciplined.
"Gun doubles right. 'Ghost Rider.' Marcus, deep post. Carlos, slant underneath. If the safety bites, it's six. On one."
They broke.
Tristain stood in shotgun, scanning. Brookfield's safety hovered ten yards deep, shifting indecisively.
He's guessing. Let's make him wrong.
Snap. Tristain dropped back. His eyes flicked right to hold the safety. Carlos slashed across on a slant. The linebackers sucked up.
Perfect. Window's open.
He zipped a missile to Carlos just as the safety turned his hips the wrong way. Carlos felt the ball slam into his chest, tucked it tight, and darted upfield.
From Carlos's POV:
Don't drop it. Don't drop it. Okay… space!
He stiff-armed one DB and scrambled all the way to the 24 before being dragged down.
Sideline erupted.
"YEAHHH, LOS!"
1st and 10 from the 24
Tristain hustled everyone back.
"Trips left. 'Raptor.' Terrell, angle route. Be patient."
Terrell slapped his gloves.
"Watch this, y'all."
Snap. Tristain scanned downfield, but Brookfield dropped into deep zones. He checked it down to Terrell on a short angle route.
Terrell caught it, planted, and cut outside. The nearest DB dove and whiffed. Terrell surged forward, legs pumping.
From Terrell's POV:
Ain't nobody touching me!
He dragged two defenders to the 40 before going down.
Sideline lost it. Helmets slammed together. Players screaming.
1st and 10 from the 40
Tristain sucked in a deep breath.
One more chunk. Let's end this.
"Doubles right. Marcus, back-shoulder fade."
Marcus winked.
"Money."
Snap. Tristain dropped back, eyes tracking the DB. He saw him overplaying inside leverage. He fired a perfect back-shoulder bullet.
From Marcus's POV:
There it is. Like Dyce handed it to me gift-wrapped.
Marcus twisted, snatched the ball, and tiptoed the sideline for 18 yards to the 22.
The crowd gasped. A Wisconsin scout whistled.
"That's NFL-level placement."
1st and 10 from the 22
The sideline buzzed. Teammates slapped Tristain's helmet as they reset.
"Trips right. 'Apollo.' Jaylen, wheel route."
Snap. Tristain dropped back, pump-faked the slant, then looped a gorgeous arc up the sideline.
Jaylen sprinted under it, arms out, eyes wide. Ball dropped over his shoulder.
TOUCHDOWN.
CELEBRATION
Jaylen turned, screaming, and took off toward the "Victory Pit." Marcus and Deshawn chased him, diving in after him. Foam flew everywhere.
Terrell started breakdancing on the sideline. Two freshmen tried backflips, one landing on his butt.
College scouts clapped, some shaking their heads in disbelief.
"That Dyce kid…" said an Indiana coach. "He's putting on a damn clinic."
Tristain stood at midfield, chest heaving, teammates pounding his back.
We came here to make noise. Let the whole Midwest hear us.
The scoreboard blinked: FLIGHT BOYS 14 — BROOKFIELD 0
BROOKFIELD'S THIRD POSSESSION
With 8 minutes remaining in the first half, Brookfield faced a two-touchdown deficit and the urgent need to establish some offensive rhythm. They came out with increased tempo and more exotic formations, clearly trying to find something that would work against the Flight Boys' defense.
1st and Goal from the 25: Brookfield lined up in an empty backfield with five receivers spread across the formation. It was a desperation look—maximum passing options, but also maximum vulnerability if the defense could generate pressure.
Kowalski took the snap and had all day to throw, but the North Bridgeton secondary was playing disciplined coverage. Every receiver was accounted for, every route covered. Finally, under pressure from a delayed blitz, Kowalski was forced to check down to his slot receiver for a 5-yard gain.
It was a successful play in terms of completion percentage, but it did nothing to threaten the Flight Boys' lead.
2nd and 5 from the 20: Brookfield tried to establish rhythm with a quick timing route—a double slant concept that had worked earlier in the game. This time, however, North Bridgeton was ready for it.
The outside defender jumped the route perfectly, arriving at the catch point simultaneously with the ball. The collision was jarring and the pass fell incomplete, leaving Brookfield facing another third-and-long situation.
3rd and 5 from the 20: Another critical third down. Brookfield lined up in trips formation, but this time they added motion to try to create confusion in the secondary. Their slot receiver motioned across the formation just before the snap, creating a potential mismatch.
Kowalski took the snap and immediately looked toward the motion receiver, who was running a quick out route at the first-down marker. The throw was accurate and the receiver made the catch, but North Bridgeton's strong safety Malik Johnson was right there to apply the two-hand touch.
The ball was spotted just short of the first-down marker—inches short.
4th and inches from the 25: Brookfield faced their most critical decision of the game. They were too far for a conversion attempt they could feel confident about, but they also desperately needed to sustain a drive to maintain any hope of staying competitive.
They chose to go for it.
Kowalski lined up under center in a tight formation designed to pick up the short yardage. At the snap, he handed the ball to his slot receiver on a quick bubble screen—simple execution, but requiring precise timing.
The execution was perfect. The receiver made the catch and immediately turned upfield, fighting for every yard. But North Bridgeton's defense had anticipated this exact situation. They'd been allowing Brookfield's quick routes to work while waiting for a moment where they could make a statement.
The two-hand touch came immediately after the catch, with no additional yardage gained. The ball was spotted exactly where the previous play had ended.
Turnover on downs. Flight Boys' ball at the 25-yard line.
"They're pressing now," Deshawn observed as the Flight Boys' offense took the field. "Trying to force plays instead of taking what we give them."
FLIGHT BOYS' THIRD POSSESSION
1st and 10 from the 25: With 4 minutes remaining in the first half and a commanding two-touchdown lead, Tristain felt no urgency. The Flight Boys were in complete control, executing at a high level, and showing no signs of letting up.
This drive was about making a statement—showing Brookfield and everyone watching that their success wasn't accidental or temporary.
"Gun spread left. Marcus, go route."
Marcus cracked his neck.
"Say less."
Snap. Tristain dropped back. He barely looked before letting it fly deep.
From Marcus's POV:
Dyce just… trusts me. Okay. Time to eat.
Marcus burst off the line, stacked the defender, and looked up. The ball spiraled perfectly into his hands at the Brookfield 10. Marcus dragged the DB another few yards before going down at the 6-yard line.
The crowd gasped. A Michigan scout turned to a Wisconsin coach:
"That kid Dyce… absolute flamethrower."
1st and Goal from the 6
Players huddled, breathing hard.
"Gun doubles right. Terrell, angle route," Tristain said. "If they're sitting back, it's yours."
Terrell slapped his gloves.
"Bout to feast."
Snap. Tristain checked left, then right. He dropped it off short to Terrell, who caught it low and spun inside. Two defenders dove but Terrell powered through, churning into the end zone.
TOUCHDOWN FLIGHT BOYS.
CELEBRATION
Terrell tossed the ball high in the air and started breakdancing in the end zone. Marcus and Jaylen rushed in, lifting him off the turf and pretending to carry him like royalty.
Deshawn cartwheeled on the sideline. Two freshmen receivers were hyping each other up:
"WE MIGHT WIN THE WHOLE THING, BRO!"
A Purdue scout was already texting on his phone:
"Dyce — must offer. Insane poise."
Tristain just grinned, high-fiving everyone.
This is our tournament. Ours.
Scoreboard updated: FLIGHT BOYS 21 — BROOKFIELD 0
BROOKFIELD'S FINAL POSSESSION OF THE HALF
With 2 minutes remaining and facing a three-touchdown deficit, Brookfield was forced into desperation mode. They came out in a hurry-up offense, trying to compress the remaining time and find some way to generate points before halftime.
1st and Goal from the 25: Kowalski came out firing, immediately looking deep toward his best receiver running a go route. The throw had good arm strength, but North Bridgeton's cornerback Devon Carter was in perfect position. The ball was broken up at the last second, falling harmlessly incomplete.
2nd and Goal from the 25: Brookfield tried a different approach—a quick bubble screen to their slot receiver, hoping to get their most dynamic player in space with room to operate. The execution was clean, but North Bridgeton's defense had been studying these tendencies all game.
Deshawn read the play perfectly, arriving just as the receiver secured the ball and applying a firm two-hand touch that limited the gain to 4 yards.
3rd and 6 from the 21: Another critical third down, but this time with the added pressure of a running clock. Brookfield lined up in empty backfield, spreading five receivers across the formation and giving Kowalski maximum options.
He took the snap and had plenty of time to scan the field, but North Bridgeton was playing perfect coverage. Every receiver was accounted for, every route covered with disciplined technique.
Finally, with the pocket beginning to collapse, Kowalski was forced to scramble to his right. He managed to extend the play and eventually found his tight end on a crossing route for an 8-yard gain and a first down.
It was good execution under pressure, but with 45 seconds remaining, Brookfield was running out of time to mount any meaningful comeback.
1st and Goal from the 13: Brookfield came out with maximum urgency, running a quick slant to their slot receiver. The throw was accurate and the catch was clean, gaining 6 yards and stopping the clock.
2nd and Goal from the 7: With 30 seconds remaining, Brookfield tried another deep shot toward the end zone. This time, however, North Bridgeton's free safety Marcus Thompson was ready for it. He jumped the route perfectly, intercepting the pass at the 2-yard line and effectively ending any hope of a Brookfield comeback.
INTERCEPTION. Flight Boys' ball at the 2-yard line.
End of First Half
With 15 seconds remaining and the ball at the 2-yard line, Tristain took a knee to run out the clock. The Flight Boys jogged toward the sideline with a commanding 21-0 halftime lead.
HALFTIME SCORE: FLIGHT BOYS 21, BROOKFIELD ACADEMY 0
As they gathered around Taylor for halftime instructions, the mood was confident but not overconfident. They'd executed everything perfectly in the first half, but they also knew that Brookfield was too talented to roll over completely.
"Outstanding first half, aviators," Taylor said, his usual theatrical energy replaced by focused intensity. "Perfect execution, perfect chemistry, perfect flight pattern."
He gestured toward the bleachers, where college coaches were having animated discussions during the break. "You just announced yourselves to the entire Midwest. Every scout here knows your names now."
But then his expression grew more serious. "However, this game isn't over. Brookfield's going to come out desperate in the second half. They're going to try everything they can to get back in this game."
He looked around the circle, making eye contact with each player. "We can't let up. We can't get comfortable. We can't assume anything. Thirty more minutes of perfect execution, and we advance to the next round."
As they prepared to take the field for the second half, Tristain felt a quiet confidence. The first half had gone exactly according to plan. The chemistry with his receivers was perfect, the reads were coming easily, and his arm felt as strong as it had ever felt.
But he also knew that the second half would bring new challenges. Brookfield would make adjustments, would come out more desperate, would try things they hadn't shown in the first half.
The Flight Boys would need to be ready for anything.
But looking around at his teammates—Marcus adjusting his gloves, Deshawn stretching his hamstrings, Jaylen reviewing route concepts—Tristain felt completely confident that they would be.
The first half had been nearly perfect. Now it was time to finish the job.