The Tampa hotel breakfast area at 8 AM was pure chaos. All four remaining teams were trying to fuel up for what would be the biggest day of the tournament - semifinals and potentially the championship all in one day.
"Yo, somebody wake Deshawn's sleeping ass up," Marcus said, balancing a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. "Dude been snoring since 6 AM."
"I'm awake!" Deshawn protested from across the table, his eyes barely open. "Just resting my eyes, shit."
"Resting your eyes while you eating cereal?" Elijah laughed. "That's talent."
"Mind your business," Deshawn mumbled, pouring more milk into his bowl.
Tristain walked over with his phone buzzing nonstop. "Y'all, this shit is getting crazy. I got like eight schools wanting to schedule visits now."
"Eight?" Jaylen asked, looking up from his pancakes. "Which ones?"
"Toledo called again, Ball State obviously, Western Michigan, Central Michigan..." Tristain paused to check his messages. "Oh shit, Florida State just texted. And Penn State."
"Penn State?!" Terrell nearly choked on his orange juice. "Bro, that's serious."
"Facts," Marcus agreed. "Big Ten football different."
"Y'all think I should visit all of them?" Tristain asked, genuinely overwhelmed.
"Hell yeah!" Deshawn said, suddenly fully awake. "Free trips, free food, seeing campuses. I wish I had that problem."
"You might soon," Xavier said, scrolling through his phone. "Saw Toledo tweeted about wanting to see more film on you."
"Toledo tweeting about me?" Deshawn perked up. "Let me see that shit."
Coach Taylor walked over, coffee in hand and looking surprisingly relaxed for championship day.
"Morning, gentlemen. Y'all ready for today?"
"Ready as we gonna be, Coach," Marcus replied. "What's the schedule looking like?"
"Semifinals at 2 PM against Raw Miami. If we win, championship at 6 PM against whoever wins between South Florida Elite and Miami Central."
"So Jordan and Derek made it to the semis too," Elijah observed. "That should be interesting."
"They been posting on their story all morning," Malik said, showing his phone. "Derek made some anime comparison about this being the 'tournament arc finale' or some shit."
"This dude Derek is hilarious," Deshawn laughed. "I fuck with his energy though."
----
As they finished breakfast, the tournament director made an announcement over the hotel PA system:
"Attention teams and families - here are your Final Four teams advancing to today's semifinals:
#1 South Florida Elite vs #4 Miami Central - 12 PM
#2 Flight Boys vs #3 Raw Miami - 2 PM
Championship game at 6 PM between the winners."
"Raw Miami at 2," Tristain said, checking his watch. "That gives us like five hours to kill."
"Perfect," Marcus said. "Let's explore Tampa for real this time. Hit some stores, walk around, film some content."
"Facts," Deshawn agreed. "My TikTok been dry lately. Need some championship day content."
"Y'all tryna hit the mall?" Jaylen suggested. "I need some new fits anyway."
"Let's do it," Elijah said. "But first, somebody please wake up Carlos. This fucker still sleep at the table."
Carlos lifted his head from where it had been resting on his arms. "I'm up, I'm up. Just conserving energy for later."
"Conserving energy by sleeping in your eggs?" Terrell asked, pointing at Carlos's plate.
"That's called meal planning," Carlos replied with a grin.
----
By 10 AM, the Flight Boys had linked up with several other top recruits from different teams for a day of exploring Tampa. The group included Jordan Banks and Derek Kim from South Florida Elite, Antonio Martinez from Raw Miami, Cameron Willis from Miami Central, and a few other players who'd caught college attention.
"Yo, this like an all-star team right here," Jordan said as they walked through downtown Tampa. "Half the people in this group gonna be teammates in college somewhere."
"Facts," Antonio agreed. "I already know Derek and Jordan gonna end up at the same school."
"Probably," Derek said, not looking up from his phone. "As long as they got good WiFi for my anime streaming."
"This dude priorities," Cameron laughed. "Choosing colleges based on internet speed."
"Don't sleep on good WiFi," Derek said seriously. "How I'm supposed to keep up with new episodes if the connection trash?"
The group was drawing attention as they walked through the mall. People were recognizing them from social media and the tournament coverage.
"Excuse me," a young kid approached Tristain. "Are you the quarterback from the Flight Boys?"
"Yeah, that's me," Tristain replied with a smile.
"Can I get a picture? My dad says you gonna be in the NFL."
"Of course, bro."
As Tristain took pictures with the kid, Derek was already filming a TikTok.
"Y'all see this?" Derek said to his phone camera. "My boy Tristain already got fans asking for pictures. Tournament ain't even over yet."
"Derek documenting everything," Jordan said, jumping into the frame. "This dude gonna have a whole series about this weekend."
"Don't give me ideas," Derek replied. "That actually sound fire."
---
At Foot Locker, the group was causing a scene trying on different shoes and filming content.
"Yo Cameron," Deshawn called out, "you think these Jordan 4s go with my Flight Boys jersey?"
"Everything go with Jordan 4s, that's the point," Cameron replied, lacing up some Air Max 95s.
"Facts," Antonio agreed. "But y'all really bout to wear Jordans to play 7-on-7?"
"We wearing compression and shorts," Marcus pointed out. "Shoes don't matter as much."
"Tell that to my ankles," Elijah said, testing out some Nike Metcons.
Derek was in the corner making another TikTok, this time showing everyone's shoe choices.
"Alright TikTok, we about to rank these boys' shoe game," he said to his camera. "First up, we got Deshawn with the classic Jordan 4s - solid choice, safe choice, 7 out of 10."
"Seven?!" Deshawn protested. "These are bred 4s! That's at least a nine!"
"Bred 4s are nice but predictable," Derek continued his review. "Now Antonio over here with the Travis Scott 1s - that's a statement, that's a 9 out of 10."
"Thank you," Antonio said, doing a little pose for the camera.
"Y'all TikTok famous now," Jordan observed. "Derek been doing this all tournament. His followers went from like 5K to 50K."
"Fifty thousand?" Tristain asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah bro, tournament content been hitting," Derek replied. "Y'all should start posting more. Especially you, T. You got the most buzz right now."
"I don't really know what to post," Tristain admitted.
"Just be yourself," Cameron suggested. "People want to see the real you, not some fake social media version."
"Facts," Marcus agreed. "Your personality what got people interested in the first place."
-----
Outside the mall, the group decided to film a collaborative TikTok showing off their different celebrations for when they score touchdowns.
"Alright y'all," Derek said, setting up his phone. "Championship day TikTok. Everyone show y'all signature celebration."
Jordan went first with an elaborate dance that looked like it belonged in a music video.
"This nigga practicing for Dancing with the Stars," Antonio laughed.
Derek did some anime-inspired pose that nobody understood but looked cool.
Tristain kept it simple with his usual touchdown point to the sky.
"Classic," Cameron approved. "Keep it humble."
Deshawn tried to do a backflip but stumbled on the landing.
"Stick to route running, bro," Elijah said, helping him up.
Marcus finished it off with his signature flexing pose that had become popular on social media.
"And that's how you do it," Derek said to the camera. "Championship day vibes with the elite prospects. Make sure y'all follow everybody - links in my bio."
"This nigga really said 'links in my bio,'" Jordan shook his head. "TikTok got you talking like an influencer."
"I am an influencer," Derek replied seriously. "Fifty thousand followers don't lie."
----
As they headed back toward the facility, the group exchanged contact information and social media handles.
"Y'all really about to be lifelong friends after this," Antonio observed. "Win or lose today, we all gonna remember this tournament."
"Facts," Tristain agreed. "This been crazy getting to know everybody."
"Group chat?" Cameron suggested. "Keep in touch during the season, recruiting, all that."
"Bet," Derek said, already creating the group chat. "What we calling it?"
"Tampa Elite," Jordan suggested.
"Tournament Bros," Deshawn offered.
"Future NFL," Antonio added.
"Nah, Future NFL too presumptuous," Tristain said. "What about 'Elite 7v7'?"
"That work," Derek agreed, typing it in. "Elite 7v7 it is."
Within minutes, the chat was already active with memes, highlights from the tournament, and trash talk about the upcoming games.
Derek: "May the best team win today 🏆"
Jordan: "Y'all already know who that is 😤"
Tristain: "We'll see about that 👀"
Antonio: "Don't sleep on Raw Miami 🔥"
Cameron: "Miami Central bout to surprise everybody 💯"
-----
By 1 PM, it was time to get serious. The group split up to return to their respective teams, but not before one final TikTok together.
"Championship day, baby!" Derek said to the camera with everyone gathered around. "Four teams left, who y'all got winning it all?"
"Flight Boys!" Tristain, Marcus, and Deshawn shouted in unison.
"South Florida Elite!" Jordan yelled.
"Raw Miami!" Antonio countered.
"Miami Central bout to shock the world!" Cameron added.
"We about to find out," Derek concluded. "See y'all on the field."
As they walked back to the facility, the competitive energy was building. The morning had been fun, but now it was time for business.
"That was cool getting to know everybody," Marcus said to his teammates. "But now we gotta cook them boys."
"Facts," Deshawn agreed. "Friendship over. Time to compete."
"Raw Miami first," Tristain said, his focus shifting. "Then we'll see who we play in the championship."
----
Back at the facility, the atmosphere was electric. The first semifinal between South Florida Elite and Miami Central had just finished with South Florida Elite winning 35-28 in a thriller.
"Jordan and Derek in the championship," Elijah observed, watching the celebration on the other field.
"Good for them," Tristain said. "Now we gotta handle our business."
"Raw Miami been talking shit all morning," Xavier said, overhearing some conversations from the other team.
"Let them talk," Coach Taylor said, walking up to the group. "Y'all ready to show Tampa what Flight Boys football really look like?"
"Ready, Coach," the team responded in unison.
"Good. Now let me tell y'all how we gonna approach this game..."
----
Twelve-year-old Miguel Martinez sat in the stands wearing his older brother Antonio's Raw Miami jersey, clutching a bag of Skittles and trying to understand why his stomach felt like he was on a roller coaster.
Why am I more nervous than Tony? He's the one playing.
Miguel had been to plenty of Antonio's games before, but nothing like this. ESPN cameras everywhere, college scouts with notepads, and way more people than he'd ever seen at a 7-on-7 tournament.
"Miguel, sit still," his mom, Carmen, said from beside him. She was just as nervous, her leg bouncing constantly.
"I can't help it, Mami. This is crazy."
The Flight Boys took the field first, and Miguel immediately spotted the quarterback everyone had been talking about - Tristain Dyce. He looked calm, like this was just another practice.
How is he so chill? If I was about to be on ESPN I'd probably throw up.
"Number 7 for Flight Boys," the announcer called. "Tristain Dyce, the rising star quarterback who's been lighting up social media with his performances."
Miguel watched Tristain warm up, noting how every throw looked effortless. No wonder Tony been studying film on this dude all week.
When Raw Miami took the field, Miguel jumped up, screaming for his brother.
"TONY! TONY! LIGHT THEM UP!"
Antonio looked over and waved, that same confident smile he'd had since they were kids playing catch in the backyard.
He looks ready. Good.
----
Miguel held his breath as the first play started. Antonio was running a corner route against the Flight Boys' best cornerback.
Come on, Tony. Show them what Southside Miami receivers can do.
The quarterback, Carlos Mendez, dropped back and looked directly at Antonio. Miguel could see his brother make his cut perfectly, just like they'd practiced in the backyard a thousand times.
That's it! That's the route!
The ball sailed toward the corner of the end zone. Antonio jumped, the defender jumped, and for a split second Miguel couldn't tell who had it.
Then Antonio came down with the ball, both feet inbounds.
"TOUCHDOWN!" Miguel screamed, jumping up and spilling Skittles everywhere. "THAT'S MY BROTHER!"
Carmen was crying - happy tears - and hugging Miguel. Around them, the Raw Miami fans were going crazy.
7-0. We scored first on the famous team. Tony cooked that boy.
---
Miguel watched the Flight Boys huddle up, curious to see how they'd respond. Tristain was pointing and talking calmly to his receivers.
He don't look worried at all. That's scary.
"Gun trips right," Miguel heard Tristain call out. The Flight Boys lined up with three receivers to one side.
They probably going to that Marcus Walker dude. He's been all over social media.
Sure enough, Walker was lined up wide right. Miguel had seen his highlights - the kid was really good.
Let's see what you got, Instagram boy.
The play developed quickly. Walker ran some route that Miguel didn't recognize - it looked like a comeback but then turned into something else.
What the hell was that route?
Walker caught the ball in perfect stride and jogged into the end zone untouched.
"Damn," Miguel muttered, earning a look from his mom.
"Language, Miguel."
"Sorry, Mami. But that was a good route."
Okay, so they can play too. This gonna be a long game.
7-7
----
Miguel watched as both teams traded scores. Every time Raw Miami made a big play, he'd jump up and scream. Every time Flight Boys answered, he'd sit back down and study what they did.
These Flight Boys are for real. No wonder they been beating everybody.
When Antonio caught a slant route and broke two ankles for a 20-yard gain, Miguel was on his feet again.
"THAT'S HOW YOU DO IT! BREAK THEIR ANKLES!"
An older kid from Flight Boys' section looked over. "Your brother's nice," he admitted grudgingly.
"Thanks," Miguel replied. "Your quarterback's pretty good too."
Even their fans got respect. That's cool.
---
With two minutes left in the first half, Flight Boys had the ball down 14-7. Miguel was feeling confident until he saw something that made his stomach drop.
Why does Tristain look so calm? They're losing and he looks like he already knows what's gonna happen.
"Gun spread formation," Tristain called. Miguel watched him scan the defense, his eyes moving like he was reading a book.
He's reading our coverage like it's in Spanish and he's fluent.
The play happened so fast Miguel almost missed it. Tristain threw the ball before the receiver even made his cut, like he knew exactly where he'd be.
Touchdown. 14-14.
How did he know to throw it there? That was like... magic or something.
"Miguel, you okay?" Carmen asked, noticing his expression.
"Yeah, I just... that quarterback is different, Mami. Like, really different."
----
Raw Miami got the ball back with one minute left. Miguel was standing, hands pressed together like he was praying.
Please score. Please. We need to go into halftime with the lead.
Carlos found Antonio on a quick hitch for 8 yards. Then a comeback for 12. Miguel was following every play like his life depended on it.
Come on, Tony. Show them you belong here too.
With 15 seconds left, Raw Miami was in the red zone. Miguel's heart was beating so fast he thought it might explode.
Carlos dropped back, looking for Antonio on a fade route. The Flight Boys cornerback was playing perfect coverage, right there with him.
This is it. This decides halftime.
Both players went up for the ball. Miguel couldn't breathe.
Antonio came down with it.
"TOUCHDOWN!" Miguel screamed so loud his voice cracked. "TOUCHDOWN! TOUCHDOWN!"
People around him were hugging him, high-fiving him, treating him like he'd caught the pass himself.
21-14 at halftime! We're beating the famous team!
Halftime Thoughts
As the teams walked off the field, Miguel's mind was racing.
This is the best game I ever watched. Tony's playing like he belong with these dudes. But that Tristain guy... he scary good. And that Marcus Walker... I see why he got all them followers.
He watched Antonio disappear into the Raw Miami huddle, probably getting coached up for the second half.
Second half gonna be crazy. Flight Boys gonna come out different. They probably not used to being down at halftime.
Miguel looked around at all the college scouts, the cameras, the ESPN setup.
This is it. This is Tony's chance to show everybody he can play with anybody. Win or lose, he already proved he belong here.
But Miguel didn't want to just belong. He wanted to win.
Come on, bro. One more half. Shock the world.
HALFTIME SCORE: Raw Miami 21 - Flight Boys 14
The little brother had watched his hero hold his own against the tournament favorites. Now came the real test - could Raw Miami close it out, or would the Flight Boys show why they'd been dominating all tournament?
Miguel clutched his Skittles bag and prepared for one of the most important 30 minutes of his brother's football career.