The Flight Boys jogged back onto the field for the second half with the game deadlocked at 21-21. The atmosphere was electric, with both teams knowing they were 30 minutes away from either glory or heartbreak.
Flight Boys' Opening Drive - Second Half
Tristain took the field at the 25-yard line, his mind crystal clear despite the magnitude of the moment. Dallas Elite's defense was showing a new look - more aggressive, more confident.
1st and Goal from the 25
Dallas was in press man coverage, their defensive backs playing physical at the line. Tristain's pre-snap read showed no safety help over Marcus.
They're gambling. Press coverage with no help. Time to make them pay.
"Gun trips right. Marcus, comeback at 18. Beat the press."
Marcus lined up against Dallas's top corner, who was talking trash at the line.
"You ain't scoring this half, boy! We locking y'all down!"
Marcus'sPOV: Press coverage? This dude's about to get cooked.
At the snap, Marcus used a violent jab release to the right, freezing the cornerback for a split second. Then he exploded left, his cleats tearing chunks from the turf as he created immediate separation.
Tristain's throw was surgical, arriving at Marcus's hands just as he turned back.
COMPLETION. 18 yards to the 43-yard line.
"Keep talking!" Marcus yelled back at the corner. "Can't press what you can't catch!"
1st and Goal from the 43
Dallas called timeout, their confidence from halftime starting to crack. But Tristain just stood calmly, visualizing the next play.
Coming out of the timeout, Dallas had switched to Cover 2. Tristain's read was instant.
Cover 2. Deshawn's got single coverage underneath.
At the snap, Deshawn ran a perfect slant route, his footwork precise as he broke inside. The ball arrived before the linebacker could react.
COMPLETION. 15 yards to the 28-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 28
Red zone territory. This was where elite teams separated themselves.
Tristain found Elijah on a seam route, threading the ball between two defenders with pinpoint accuracy.
COMPLETION. 15 yards to the 13-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 13
Goal line territory. Tristain took a quick drop and looked for Jaylen on a quick slant.
TOUCHDOWN. FLIGHT BOYS TAKE THE LEAD 28-21.
Jaylen caught the ball in traffic and crossed the goal line, then immediately looked toward the Dallas sideline and flexed. The Flight Boys had struck first in the second half.
Dallas Elite's Response - Elite Execution
Matthews came back onto the field knowing his team needed to answer immediately. Down for the first time all tournament, but his composure never wavered.
1st and Goal from the 25
Dallas came out in spread formation, Matthews's pre-snap read showing Flight Boys in nickel defense.
They brought an extra DB. Time to attack the middle.
Matthews found his tight end on a crossing route for 15 yards. Then Johnson on a comeback for 12 more.
1st and Goal from the 48
The drive was methodical, elite execution against elite defense. Matthews to their slot receiver for 18 yards.
1st and Goal from the 30
Matthews took a five-step drop and found Johnson on a double move - a hitch-and-go that left Devon Carter reaching for air.
COMPLETION. 20 yards to the 10-yard line.
From Johnson's POV: Perfect route. That DB never had a chance.
1st and Goal from the 10
Goal line territory. Matthews took the snap and immediately looked for Johnson on a fade route.
The throw was perfect, the catch was spectacular over tight coverage.
TOUCHDOWN DALLAS ELITE. TIE GAME 28-28.
Johnson made the catch despite perfect coverage from Devon Carter, showing why he was USC-bound. The game was tied again with 18:47 remaining.
Flight Boys' Second Drive - Answering Back
Tristain took the field with the pressure mounting. Two elite teams trading blows, neither willing to blink first.
1st and Goal from the 25
Dallas was showing a different defensive look, clearly making adjustments. Tristain's pre-snap read showed Cover 3.
Cover 3. They're taking away the deep ball. Time to attack underneath.
"Gun spread formation. Terrell, option route. Find the soft spot."
Terrell released from the backfield and immediately read the coverage, settling into a hole between the linebacker and safety.
Tristain's throw was perfect, hitting Terrell in stride.
COMPLETION. 12 yards to the 37-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 37
The drive continued with surgical precision. Tristain to Marcus on a comeback for 15 yards. Then to Deshawn on a post route for 20 more.
1st and Goal from the 8
Red zone again. This was where the game would be won or lost.
Tristain took a quick drop and found Elijah on a corner route, placing the ball exactly where only his 6'4" receiver could reach it.
TOUCHDOWN. FLIGHT BOYS RETAKE THE LEAD 35-28.
Elijah made the catch over tight coverage, using his size advantage to perfection. The Flight Boys were back on top.
----
With 12:33 left in the game, Dallas Elite took the field trailing by seven. This was crunch time - where elite teams showed their true character.
Dallas Elite's Third Drive
Matthews came to the line with urgency, knowing they needed to score. The pressure was immense, but his execution remained flawless.
The drive was a masterpiece - 15-yard strike to Johnson, 18-yard bullet to their tight end, 12-yard completion to their slot receiver.
With 8:47 left, Dallas was at the Flight Boys' 15-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 15
Matthews took the snap and found their slot receiver on a crossing route.
TOUCHDOWN. DALLAS ELITE TIES IT 35-35.
The game was tied again with under nine minutes remaining. Elite competition at its absolute finest.
Flight Boys' Final Drive - Elite Under Pressure
Tristain took the field with 8:21 remaining, knowing this could be their final possession of the tournament. The pressure was immense, but his mind was clear.
1st and Goal from the 25
This is it. Time to show what elite quarterbacks do in pressure moments.
Dallas was in aggressive man coverage, bringing pressure and testing the Flight Boys' resolve.
Tristain found Marcus on a quick slant, the ball arriving before the blitz could get home.
COMPLETION. 10 yards to the 35-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 35
The drive continued with elite execution under maximum pressure. Tristain to Deshawn for 18 yards. Then to Jaylen for 12 more.
1st and Goal from the 35
Wait - they were back at the 35 after a holding penalty on Dallas. No matter. Elite teams overcame adversity.
Tristain found Elijah on a seam route, the ball arriving perfectly between two defenders.
COMPLETION. 20 yards to the 15-yard line.
1st and Goal from the 15
With 4:43 remaining, the Flight Boys were in scoring position. This was the moment that would define their tournament.
Tristain took a quick drop and found Marcus on a comeback route.
COMPLETION. 8 yards to the 7-yard line.
2nd and Goal from the 7
Elite execution when it mattered most. Tristain found Terrell on a wheel route out of the backfield.
TOUCHDOWN. FLIGHT BOYS TAKE THE LEAD 42-35.
With 3:47 remaining, the Flight Boys had what could be the winning score. The sideline erupted as Terrell crossed the goal line.
Dallas Elite's Final Stand
Matthews took the field with 3:47 remaining, needing a touchdown to tie and force overtime. This was what elite quarterbacks lived for.
1st and Goal from the 25
The drive started perfectly - 15-yard strike to Johnson, 18-yard completion to their tight end.
1st and Goal from the 42
Matthews continued his elite execution - 12-yard bullet to their slot receiver, then 15 yards to Johnson again.
1st and Goal from the 15
With 1:23 remaining, Dallas was in scoring position. The pressure was immense.
Matthews took the snap and looked for Johnson on a slant route, but Marcus Thompson was there for the deflection.
INCOMPLETE PASS.
2nd and Goal from the 15
1:18 remaining. Matthews tried to force a throw to their tight end, but Xavier Banks knocked it away.
INCOMPLETE PASS.
3rd and Goal from the 15
1:12 remaining. The season on the line. Matthews dropped back and found Johnson on a comeback route.
COMPLETION. 8 yards to the 7-yard line.
4th and Goal from the 7
0:47 remaining. Everything on the line. Matthews took the snap and looked for Johnson on a fade route to the corner.
The throw was perfect, but Devon Carter made the play of his life, deflecting the ball away at the last second.
INCOMPLETE PASS. TURNOVER ON DOWNS.
The Flight Boys had done it. Tournament winners.
The Celebration
As the final seconds ticked off the clock, the Flight Boys erupted in celebration. Players were jumping, hugging, screaming with pure joy.
Tristain was mobbed by his teammates, everyone piling on top of him as the reality set in - they were tournament winners.
"WE DID IT! WE FUCKING DID IT!" Marcus screamed, tears streaming down his face.
"TOURNAMENT CHAMPS!" Deshawn yelled, doing cartwheels on the field.
The celebration continued for several minutes, with players taking selfies, calling their families, and savoring the moment they'd dreamed about.
Coach Taylor found Tristain in the middle of the celebration, pulling him aside for a moment.
"I'm proud of you, son," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You showed the world what elite looks like today."
---
ESPN's Jenny Williams found Tristain in the middle of the celebration, cameramen capturing every moment of the historic victory.
"Tristain, congratulations! You're tournament winners! How does it feel?"
Tristain, still catching his breath and grinning ear to ear, looked into the camera.
"It feels incredible. This team, these guys... we've been through everything together. To finish it off like this, against an elite team like Dallas... it's everything we dreamed of."
"You threw for over 250 yards in the final. How did you stay composed under that pressure?"
"My teammates made it easy. Marcus, Deshawn, Elijah, Jaylen - they were making incredible catches all game. When you trust your guys like that, you can stay calm in any situation."
"This tournament run has been incredible. What's next for the Flight Boys?"
"We're going to enjoy this moment first," Tristain said, looking around at his celebrating teammates. "But we know this is just the beginning. We've got three more tournaments this summer, and we want to keep proving we belong at this level."
"Any message for everyone watching back home?"
Tristain's expression became more serious for a moment.
"To everyone who believed in us from the beginning - thank you. To everyone who doubted us - we hope you're watching. And to my teammates - this is just the start of something special."
Social Media Explosion
As the team finally made it back to the hotel, Tristain's phone was completely out of control. His notifications were in the thousands, and his Instagram was blowing up.
"Bro, check this shit out," Marcus said, showing Tristain his phone as they rode the elevator up.
Tristain had been tagged in dozens of posts:
@SportsCenter: "FLIGHT BOYS WIN IT ALL! 🏆 @TristainDyce throws for 287 yards and 6 TDs in tournament final!"
@ESPN: "From unknown to CHAMPION! @TristainDyce's incredible tournament run complete!"
@247Sports: "BREAKING: Flight Boys QB @TristainDyce stock 📈📈📈 after tournament victory!"
The comments and reposts were insane:
"This kid is the real deal!""Future NFL star right here!""Flight Boys are legit!""Tristain Dyce is HIM!"
His followers had jumped to 800k overnight, and the highlight videos were getting millions of views.
"This is absolutely insane," Tristain said, scrolling through the tags. "800k?"
"Bro, you're actually famous now," Deshawn laughed. "Like, real famous."
Back at the Hotel
8:30 PM - Text Exchange
Once they got to their room, Tristain immediately pulled out his phone to text Ayana.
Tristain: "WE WON! TOURNAMENT CHAMPS! 🏆"
Ayana: "OMG I SAW! I've been screaming at the TV for the last hour!"
Tristain: "You watched the whole game?"
Ayana: "Every single play. I was so nervous I couldn't sit still"
Tristain: "I played that whole second half thinking about you"
Ayana: "Stop making me emotional 😭 I'm so proud of you"
Tristain: "FaceTime me in 10 minutes. I need to see your face"
Ayana: "Bet. Go celebrate with your team first"
9:00 PM - FaceTime Call
Tristain stepped out onto the balcony and called Ayana. Her face appeared on screen immediately, and she was beaming with pride. She was wearing a tight Northwestern crop top that showed off her stomach, and her hair was down in loose curls.
"There's my tournament winner!" she said with the biggest smile.
"you look good," Tristain said, his voice dropping slightly. "That crop top is doing things to me."
"Boy, focus!" she laughed, but he could see her blushing. "You just won a tournament!"
"I can multitask," he grinned. "Celebrate and appreciate how fine you are at the same time."
"You're so stupid," she said, but she was clearly enjoying the attention. "But seriously, I can't even believe this is real. We actually did it."
"I was thinking about coming home to you," he said, his voice getting softer and more serious. "Every throw, every play. I kept thinking about how good it would feel to hold you after this."
"Well you better hurry up and get back here then," she said, her voice taking on a different tone. "I got some celebrating planned for us."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Guess you'll have to come home and find out," she said teasingly, biting her bottom lip. "But I'll give you a hint... it involves me, you, and not much else."
"Ayana..." Tristain's voice got husky. "Don't start something you can't finish over FaceTime."
"Who says I can't finish it?" she said with a mischievous smile. "But I want to save the best celebration for when you get home."
"You're driving me crazy, you know that?"
"Good," she said with satisfaction. "That's the point. I want you thinking about me tonight."
"Trust me, I will be. Probably won't get much sleep."
"Maybe I won't either," she said softly. "I miss you, T. Like, really miss you."
"I miss you too. Your voice, your laugh, the way you feel when I hold you..."
"Stop," she said, but her breathing had gotten a little heavier. "You're making this harder than it needs to be."
"What's harder?" he asked with a smirk.
"You know what," she said, rolling her eyes but smiling. "You're nasty."
"You love it though."
"Maybe I do," she admitted quietly. "Now go eat with your team before I say something I shouldn't."
"I love you, Yana. Can't wait to show you how much when I get back."
"I love you too, tournament winner. Now go before I do something crazy like drive to Chicago tonight."
----
The hotel restaurant had prepared a special celebration dinner for the team. The atmosphere was pure joy as they reflected on their incredible journey.
"Bro, three days ago we were nobody," Jaylen said, taking a bite of his steak. "Now we're tournament winners."
"We were never nobody," Marcus corrected. "We just hadn't shown the world yet."
"Facts," Elijah agreed. "But this feeling right now? This is what we've been working for our whole fucking lives."
"Y'all see how that last drive went?" Deshawn said, reenacting Tristain's throws. "T was out there slinging that shit like he was playing catch in the backyard."
"That throw to Marcus on the comeback?" Carlos whistled. "That shit was nasty. Perfect fucking placement."
"Don't hype me up too much," Tristain laughed. "Y'all were the ones making the catches."
"Man, shut the fuck up with that humble shit," Marcus said, throwing a dinner roll at him. "You just threw for damn near 300 yards in a tournament final. Take your flowers."
"300 yards?" Terrell's eyes went wide. "Bro, that's some college-level shit right there."
"It's some NFL-level shit," Deshawn corrected. "T bout to be on a cereal box and everything."
Coach Taylor stood up with a glass of water, getting everyone's attention.
"Gentlemen, I want to say something. Three days ago, we came to this tournament as underdogs. Tonight, we're going home as winners. But more than that, you've shown the character and heart of true champions."
He paused, looking around the table.
"The comeback against Warren Central showed heart. The focus against Detroit showed maturity. The discipline against Phoenix showed growth. And tonight showed elite execution under pressure."
The table was quiet, hanging on every word.
"But what I'm most proud of is how you've handled success. You've stayed humble, stayed focused, and remembered what's important. That's what separates good players from great ones."
He raised his glass.
"To the Flight Boys. Tournament winners. And the best group of young men I've ever coached."
"To the Flight Boys!" everyone yelled, raising their glasses.
"And to T for not throwing any fucking picks!" Deshawn added, making everyone laugh.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Marcus yelled. "Perfect quarterback!"
----
After dinner, the entire team crammed into Tristain and Marcus's room for one last gaming session. The energy was pure celebration mixed with the comfortable brotherhood they'd built.
"Yo, T, you gotta play cfb as yourself now," Deshawn said, setting up the PlayStation. "You're probably gonna be in the next college football game."
"That's wild as fuck to think about," Tristain laughed, grabbing a controller. "Playing as myself in a video game."
"You better have good ratings too," Marcus added. "After today's performance, you deserve like a 95 overall."
"Ninety-five? Shit, give him a 99," Jaylen said. "Boy went perfect in the tournament final."
They rotated through games - 2K, Madden, some random racing game Terrell found. The trash talk was still there, but it was different now. Lighter. More playful.
"GREEN! GREEN BEAN!" Jaylen yelled, hitting a three-pointer with the Lakers. "That shit was wet like water!"
"That wasn't green, that was yellow as hell," Carlos shot back. "You're just lucky, bitch."
"Luck? I'm a tournament winner, baby! Everything I touch turns to fucking gold!"
"Shut your ass up," Marcus laughed. "You barely played in the final."
"I was there for moral support! That's important shit too!"
Elijah was playing Madden against Terrell, and losing badly. "Bro, why you keep running the same play?"
"'Cause it keeps fucking working!" Terrell grinned. "Stop it then!"
"That's some cheese-ass bullshit. Run a real play."
"This is a real play. It's called 'beat your ass down the field.'"
"Y'all are loud as fuck," Deshawn said from the other bed where he was scrolling through TikTok. "Hotel's bout to kick us out."
"Let 'em try," Carlos said. "We're celebrities now. They need us more than we need them."
"Celebrities?" Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Boy, calm down. You got like 500 followers."
"Five hundred more than I had yesterday!"
"Who got next on 2K?" Tristain asked, finishing his Madden game against Deshawn.
"Me!" three people said at once.
"Y'all gotta figure that shit out yourselves," Tristain laughed. "I'm the tournament winner, I don't have to wait."
"Oh, so now you're pulling rank?" Marcus grinned.
"Damn right I am. Tournament MVP privileges, bitch."
As the night went on, the celebration gradually turned into reflection. They'd accomplished something special together, and everyone knew it.
"Yo, for real though," Marcus said during a quiet moment between games. "This week changed everything. For all of us."
"Facts," Tristain agreed. "Three months ago I was third string. Now..."
"Now you're one of the best quarterbacks in the fucking country," Deshawn finished. "At least at our level."
"We all are," Tristain said. "Best team in the country. Tournament winners."
"Tournament winners," Elijah repeated, shaking his head. "Still doesn't sound real."
"It's real as fuck," Jaylen said. "And it's forever. Can't nobody take that shit away from us."
As they finally started winding down around midnight, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air. This amazing week was coming to an end, but they all knew it was just the beginning of something bigger.
"Last night in Chicago," Elijah said as people started heading to their rooms.
"But not the last night as tournament winners," Marcus replied. "That shit's forever."
"Tournament winners," Tristain repeated, still not quite believing it. "Yeah, I like the sound of that."
"Y'all better not forget about me when you're all famous and shit," Carlos said, getting sentimental.
"Shut up, bitch," Marcus said, giving him a hug. "We're all getting famous together."
"Facts," Tristain agreed. "Flight Boys for life."
As his teammates filtered out, Tristain lay in bed scrolling through social media one more time. The highlights, the comments, the tags - it was all surreal.
His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: "Hey Tristain, this is Mike Johnson from 247Sports. Congratulations on the tournament win! Could we set up a quick call tomorrow? Have some exciting news about your recruitment profile."
Tristain screenshot the message and sent it to the group chat.
Group Chat: Flight Boys Elite
Tristain: "Yo check this out 👀"
Marcus: "247Sports?! Bro you're actually big time now"
Deshawn: "What they want with you?"
Elijah: "Probably gonna rank him 5-star finally"
Tristain: "I'll call them tomorrow and see what's up"
About an hour later, Marcus knocked on the door. "Yo T, you still up?"
"Yeah, what's good?"
Marcus came in with his phone, grinning. "Bro, I just got off the phone with that 247Sports dude. He called me too."
"For real? What he say?"
"Dude said after this tournament, me, you, Elijah, and Deshawn's recruitment bout to blow the fuck up. Like, blow up blow up."
Tristain sat up in bed. "What you mean?"
"He said most of us won't have to worry about going D1 anymore if we keep this up. Said we proved we can play at the highest level."
"That's wild as hell."
"But check this out," Marcus continued, his expression getting more serious. "He said for you specifically, the only thing holding you back from being an instant 5-star is varsity film in pads. Like, real high school varsity tape."
"5-star?" Tristain's eyes went wide. "You serious?"
"Dead serious. He said what you did this tournament was unprecedented for someone with no varsity experience. Said once you get some real game tape this fall, you might be a top 5 quarterback in the country."
Tristain was quiet for a moment, processing what that meant.
"Number one in the country..." he repeated.
"Bro, you realize what that means? Every major program in the country would be after you. Alabama, Georgia, Ohio State, USC - everybody."
"I can't even wrap my head around that shit."
"Well you better start," Marcus grinned. "Because apparently Elijah and Deshawn got the same call. We're all bout to be heavily recruited after this."
"What about the rest of the team?"
"He said if y'all keep playing like this, most of the guys gonna get looks too. Said this tournament put Flight Boys on the map for real."
Tristain shook his head in amazement. "Three days ago I was nobody."
"Three days ago we all were," Marcus said. "Now we're tournament winners with D1 futures. This shit is crazy."
But what made him smile the most wasn't the fame or attention. It was the group chat with his team, still blowing up with celebration texts and inside jokes.
They'd come to Chicago as a good team with potential. They were going home as tournament winners and brothers for life.
This is just the beginning.