[General Point of View]
"Hey, camera guy! You were Harold, right?" exclaimed Rachel, standing up and waving her hand to get the attention of a short guy with a bowl haircut.
The cameraman, who was none other than Howard, turned his head and saw a cute blonde girl calling out to him. He recognized Rachel immediately.
"Harold…?" Howard murmured, frowning slightly at the mistake…
Although, to be fair, having a beautiful blonde call out to him, even with the wrong name, wasn't exactly a bad deal.
"I think she's talking to you, Harold," Leonard said beside him with a slight teasing smile as he adjusted his glasses.
"Shut up. Let's see if she remembers your name," Howard muttered, walking over to Rachel and Monica.
Monica smiled warmly when she saw them and stood up with a polite gesture.
"Hi, ladies, you came to see the show," said Howard with his best attempt at a charming smile.
"Hi, guys. Of course I wouldn't miss it. Are you recording content?" Monica asked with genuine enthusiasm.
"Yeah. Andrew wants to upload some football stuff, and it's better if it's from Mater Dei. But before, he didn't think it was polite to record practices from a school where he was a stranger… but since this is a tournament, it's okay to record highlights," Howard nodded.
Not too far from them, Marcus and Derrick exchanged a discreet glance.
They had caught every word.
Was this the guy who recorded all the highlights on Andrew's channel?
He had just said "Andrew" and "Mater Dei" in the same sentence.
The answer was obvious: yes.
This was the guy responsible for the footage millions had seen.
"That's awesome," said Monica, clenching her fists with determination and a proud smile, "The video's going to get tons of views and shut up those damn haters who say he'd just warm the bench at Mater Dei."
Howard looked at her with a mix of surprise and respect. Monica's fandom was real. "Yeah… totally."
He paused for a second, then turned to Rachel.
"By the way, my name is Howard. Not Harold," he clarified with a half-smile.
Rachel raised a hand in apology, "Sorry! I was close," she replied with a charming smile.
Howard let it go. A stylish apology was good enough.
"No worries… And here we have the guy who almost never talks. Do you remember his name?" he asked, thumbing toward Leonard.
Rachel squinted and stared at Leonard, as if trying to scan his soul.
Leonard, for his part, tensed up slightly under the blonde's inquisitive gaze.
"Leonardo… right?" Rachel finally said, not sounding too sure.
"Technically, yes…" Leonard replied, and Rachel smiled triumphantly. "In my version, it's Leonard. Without the 'o'. The names Leonard and Leonardo are essentially the same thing, just in different languages. Leonardo is more common in Spanish and Italian, while Leonard is more common in English and German," he explained.
Rachel looked at him in silence for a few seconds, blinking.
"Leonardo DiCaprio," she suddenly said, as if explaining how she remembered his name.
Leonard slightly opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself.
He just nodded, defeated. "Yeah, that's also one way to remember my name… in Italian."
Howard and Leonard sat down with the girls. The former trying to look as confident as possible, and the latter a bit shy. It would've been awkward to leave after Rachel had called them over.
Howard adjusted his camera, turning it on carefully as he aimed it at the field.
The teams had stopped warming up.
The referees were approaching with the balls.
The coaches were giving their final instructions.
The atmosphere was tense, focused. The tournament was about to begin.
"There are more people here than there were at the San Diego tournament," Howard murmured as he panned the camera across the stadium.
Although the stands weren't at full capacity, they were clearly more than halfway full. The sections were filled with families, friends of the players, and other students who had come to scout the competition, since they wouldn't be playing in the first match.
There were over a thousand people in Field 1 alone, the main field. Not bad for a Friday morning.
Suddenly, a low hum came through the loudspeakers.
The announcer's voice, clear but not solemn, echoed across the stadium, reaching every corner:
[Welcome to the Summer 7v7 Tournament at Dana Hills High School. Thank you to all participating schools, coaches, players, parents, and families for attending. We'll begin with the opening match here on the main field: Mater Dei High School versus Granite Hills High School. Both teams, please prepare to take the field]
A murmur spread through the stands.
Mentioning Mater Dei was like invoking a giant.
Granite Hills was also a Division 1, but public school far behind Mater Dei in terms of history. They clearly weren't the favorites for this opening match.
"That's great, we won't have to wait an hour to see them play," said Rachel with a smile.
Monica nodded without taking her eyes off the field.
There were three fields available at Dana Hills High School. With so many teams, three matches would be played simultaneously in each time slot. Every match lasted 25 minutes with no breaks, and with this intensive schedule, plus minimal breaks between rounds, the group stage was expected to end around five in the afternoon.
A soft melody played over the PA system as the teams took the field.
On the field, the Mater Dei players crossed the sideline and jogged toward the center, wearing their crimson red jerseys.
Andrew, wearing number 19, led the offensive group: he as quarterback, his two receivers, Victor and Sedric, Nick Richardson as running back, Thomas, and the two other players completing the 7v7 offense. The crowd reacted with a mix of applause and hushed anticipation.
Rachel leaned slightly toward Monica, frowning. "I never really understood the rules of 7v7. Do you know them?" she asked, glancing at her friend.
Even though she liked football and was a cheerleader at her school, she hadn't watched many 7v7 tournaments and knew they were different from regular games.
Monica smiled faintly, as if she had been expecting that question.
"It's played without an offensive or defensive line, which is why there are only 7 players. Only passing is allowed. The quarterback has four seconds to throw; if he doesn't, the play ends. It's like an aerial version of football, great for showing off precision and chemistry between QB and receivers. No hard contact, but there's tight coverage. You score touchdowns, but there are no kicks."
Rachel nodded in understanding. "So more technical and fast-paced."
"Exactly," Monica said.
Leonard, who had been quietly listening, chimed in with a tone straight out of a Discovery Channel documentary, "And as for the opponent…"
Rachel raised an eyebrow at him. Monica looked at him too, clearly expecting a full report, and she wasn't disappointed.
"Granite Hills' football team competes in the Grossmont League, part of Division I in the CIF-San Diego Section. Last season, their overall record was 3 wins and 7 losses. They finished last in their league. Technically, they play at the top level of their local section, but their competitive level is quite low. And the Grossmont League is considerably weaker than the Trinity League," Leonard explained, adjusting his glasses, which caught the sunlight for a moment.
"Hmm, should be an easy match… but you can't get overconfident," said Monica, turning her gaze back to the field.
Rachel looked at Leonard for a few seconds. "Do you have a football school wiki in your brain?" she asked, surprised.
Leonard gave a small shrug. "Good memory… and a best friend who's a football fanatic. You end up learning about schools you didn't even know existed."
Rachel chuckled and looked back toward the field.
The sun was blazing, but no one in the stands moved. The referee raised his hand. The whistle blew. The game began.
Andrew calmly received the ball. He took three steps back and analyzed the opposing defense, watching his teammates' routes.
In less than four seconds, he threw to Victor, who cut across the middle quickly and flawlessly.
The ball flew with speed and pinpoint accuracy. A 40-yard pass completed and caught by Victor, who entered the end zone.
Touchdown.
Not even 30 seconds had passed.
A murmur rippled through the stands. Some applauded. Others exchanged surprised looks.
"That fast?" Rachel whispered, eyes wide. A 40-yard pass right at the start wasn't something you saw every day.
"This'll be a great start for the highlights… opening with a bomb," said Howard with a smile as he recorded everything.
The offense lined up for the one-point conversion. That was the only option, done from the 10-yard line.
When the ball reached Andrew's hands, he quickly looked to the right, then snapped his head to the left and threw. Perfect pass. Thomas Duarte caught it in the corner of the end zone.
Conversion good. 7–0.
The Mater Dei bench erupted in cheers and raised fists. It was a strong, flawless start.
Sure, they were facing a team that, on paper, wasn't the favorite. But scoring 7–0 in under 30 seconds, with a 40-yard pass? That was rare. After all, Granite Hills was still a Division 1 team.
It was unlikely even Max could have pulled off a start like Andrew's.
Andrew fist-bumped Victor and the others, smiling faintly, though not overly excited about the great start. Job done, for now, it was time to watch and wait.
Granite Hills took possession from their own 40-yard line.
Mater Dei's defense entered the field.
Andrew sat on the bench alongside Victor, Nick, and the others.
Granite Hills began their offensive drive. However, on fourth down, they attempted a deep pass, otherwise they would've lost possession, and it was intercepted.
In just two and a half minutes, Granite's offense had already turned the ball over.
Andrew reentered the game.
Marcus gave a low whistle, "The defense isn't letting them breathe…"
"Yeah… and if the offense keeps being this precise and deadly, this is going to be a massacre," said Derrick, arms crossed.
Leonard, who had overheard them, subtly glanced in their direction.
Who were those guys? Single dads? Unemployed men who watched teen tournaments for fun?
Both wore comfy athletic clothes, one with sunglasses and a goatee, the other with a low baseball cap.
The exact type his mother would call "aimless adults."
Leonard didn't know they were two major college scouts.
Andrew began his second offensive series of the game. He didn't throw a long pass this time.
First down: pass to Duarte, 10 yards.
Then another quick pass to Victor, 14 yards.
They were advancing like a hot knife through butter.
Granite's coach was giving directions, but Andrew read their defense like an open book.
Finally, Sedric cut toward the left corner of the end zone.
Andrew saw it and floated the ball just over the defender, as if hung on an invisible wire.
Sedric caught it.
Touchdown, 18-yard pass from the quarterback.
The Mater Dei crowd cheered with enthusiasm.
"Not a single bad read. He's not throwing just to throw, he's throwing because he read everything in two seconds," Marcus muttered to himself, taking mental notes.
Leonard, clapping with enthusiasm and a smile, heard a familiar shout:
"WELL DONE, ANDRESITO! DESTROY THEM!"
Several meters away, standing out from the crowd, was Gloria.
Andrew's "grandma", though she hardly fit the title. She radiated energy and charisma.
Next to her, Jay tried to keep his composure, though his smile gave him away. He looked proud, even if he wished his wife would lower the volume just a bit.
The whole family was there too: Haley, Claire, Phil, Alex, Luke, Manny, Mitchell, Cam, and Lily.
"Whoa, Monica, looks like you're not the only fan," said Rachel, glancing toward Gloria in the distance. "Though that fan seems a little older…"
She didn't look elderly. In fact, she was quite beautiful and stylish.
But following a teenage boy on YouTube? She did seem a bit… past the typical age for that.
Howard chuckled slightly at the comment and looked at her. "She's not a YouTube fan… she's family."
"That makes more sense," said Rachel. "Oh, there's Haley!" she added, spotting Haley next to Gloria. She might go talk to her after the game. They'd really hit it off yesterday, and she wanted to tell her about some outfits she saw, things Monica barely understood when it came to fashion.
"Is she Andrew's mom or Haley's?" Rachel asked, curious about Andrew's family history.
"Neither…" said Leonard. "She's his grandmother."
"Grandmother?" Monica and Rachel repeated, surprised, looking at him.
"Her name is Gloria, and she married Andrew's grandfather," he explained.
Rachel nodded in understanding.
Andrew looked over at his family and raised an arm to wave at them with a smile.
Then he lined up for the one-point conversion from the 10-yard line. Another success. 14–0.
Andrew wasn't even sweating. 'Playing here feels totally different… like driving a Ferrari on an empty track,' he thought as he returned to the bench.
Bruce Rollinson, the legendary head coach, crossed his arms and nodded in satisfaction, as if confirming that his decision had been the right one, perhaps the best one he'd made in years. At last, they might aspire to bring back Mater Dei's golden era.
Rick, the offensive coordinator, greeted him with a sly smile.
"Well done. You're operating with surgical precision, Andrew. Next time, when you get the chance, change the pre-snap cadence. Let's play around with their safeties. I want to see if they bite on a hard count."
'You're evil…' Andrew thought with amusement, but he nodded.
The game continued. Drive after drive, Andrew dismantled Granite Hills' defense like he had the script to the game in his head.
Cross routes, quick reads, eye fakes, wrist flicks that looked like something out of a video game.
Each Mater Dei drive lasted no more than two minutes.
Not because they were rushing, but because they didn't need more time.
It was pure efficiency.
Granite Hills, for their part, fought with more heart than tools.
They took about two and a half minutes per drive when they managed to move the ball, but most of the time they were shut down mercilessly by Mater Dei's defense.
They managed two touchdowns due to minor mistakes and defensive substitutions.
Bruce didn't rotate quarterbacks. Max didn't play a single minute.
Usually in this type of tournament, coaches rotate players to evaluate them. But Andrew was having an exceptional performance. Bruce couldn't take him out, and didn't want to.
He wanted to see how many TDs Andrew could throw in a single game. So did Rick and the rest of the staff.
In the stands, the murmurs were growing.
"How many touchdowns does he have already?"
"Is that the new kid? The one with the YouTube channel?"
"Seven touchdowns!"
But that wasn't all. At minute 23:18, on the final down, Andrew threw a spinning pass toward the right sideline, caught by Sedric, who elegantly spun inward and ran the final 8 yards untouched.
Touchdown number eight for Andrew.
Rachel stood there, mouth open, clapping as she got swept up in Monica's excitement, and that of the whole stadium.
"I feel a little bad for that school… but they were elegantly destroyed."
"I told you!" said Monica, standing. "He'd crush Division One teams too!"
Derrick and Marcus were more serious, but no less impressed.
For an elite QB, five or six touchdowns in a game like this is already impressive and worthy of MVP.
Seven is exceptional.
Eight… might be a record. Even in major tournaments.
For example, Marcus recalled that Matt Barkley, in his last Dana Hills tournament with Mater Dei several years ago during his senior year, won the whole thing and threw 29 touchdowns across seven games, the max if you reach the final. That's an average of about 4 TDs per game.
His most in a single game? Six, during the second match of group stage, usually the easiest games for powerhouse schools like Mater Dei.
Things only get tougher in the elimination rounds.
So, scoring eight touchdowns was phenomenal by any standard, not even typical for a five-star QB.
Andrew stayed calm. There was still the conversion.
And of course, with the same composure he'd shown all game, he completed another crossing pass to add the extra point.
56 to 13.
As he walked back to the bench, Andrew glanced over to the sideline.
He saw Howard, still holding the camera.
He had looked for him earlier but hadn't spotted him.
They had come with his family, but Howard wasn't sitting with them.
Without stopping, Andrew raised his hand and waved with a light smil, his usual mix of confidence and ease. For the video, and also for Monica and Rachel, who had come to watch.
Rachel blinked, slightly confused. Was that wave for Howard? For her and Monica?
Not entirely sure, her body reacted on instinct. She lifted her hand with a slightly nervous smile and waved back.
Monica, on the other hand, returned the wave enthusiastically, with a big smile.
"What a stylish way to wave… like Tom Brady," Derrick commented with amusement.
Andrew sat down, receiving a few pats from his teammates.
Bruce and Rick said nothing. They didn't need to.
Granite had one last possession, but with barely a minute left, they couldn't score, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway.
Final score of the first game:
Mater Dei 56 – Granite Hills 13
Mater Dei wouldn't play another game immediately. It was 10:30 AM, and their second match was scheduled for around 12:15.
They had nearly two hours of free time.
"Good work. You've got 45 minutes off. Go grab a drink, eat something light, say hi to your families or friends, but don't wander off too far. I want you back here in one hour. Understood?" said Bruce.
"Yes, sir!" they all shouted in unison and began to disperse.
Andrew, still with a calm pulse, he'd barely broken a sweat and those 25 minutes had felt like a scrimmage, started walking toward the stands to talk with his family, then head over to Howard and Leonard, and of course, say hi to Monica and Rachel.
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