The Aftermath
After the scrimmage, the field buzzed with leftover energy. Players were still rewatching clips, coaches were still talking, and some of the older academy kids who hadn't said a word before were now offering nods or dap as we passed.
"Yo," one of the U19 players called out to KJ, "you really did him dirty with that spin move."
KJ didn't even slow down. Just gave a quick smile and a head nod like he'd been there before. Because in his mind—he had.
Same with Kyle. One of the assistant coaches pulled him aside to ask about his footwork during a nutmeg and cut combo that sent a defender stumbling. Kyle shrugged. "It's just timing, coach."
And me? Coach Antonio came up and tapped my shoulder.
"You're seeing the game differently now, huh?"
I didn't know what to say. I just smiled.
Because he was right.
Things had shifted.
People weren't just watching us play anymore—they were starting to study us.
The 3KB Effect
Our channel was blowing up. After posting the highlights from the scrimmage, we jumped from a few thousand to over 10,000 subscribers. People in the comments were arguing about which one of us was the best.
"Kyle got the coldest first step I've ever seen."
"KJ's positioning is next level. Striker instincts, man."
"Nah, y'all sleeping on Kareem. The way he sees the game? Different."
We didn't say anything online. No responses. No debates.
We let the clips speak for us.
And off-camera, we started to feel the pressure.
The Academy Starts Watching
The Metro Academy wasn't just a training ground—it was a pipeline. A place where scouts from pro clubs quietly walked the sidelines. Where kids transferred in from other states just for a shot.
So when the directors started attending our age group sessions, word spread fast.
"They're watching 3KB."
"Those are the YouTube kids, right?"
"They're nice, but are they that nice?"
And just like that, a new chapter began.
Because respect in this world has to be earned over and over again.
In the Classroom
It wasn't just the field that shifted.
At the academy's school sessions—where real teachers came in during training blocks—things changed too.
KJ was still dragging his feet through assignments. "I don't even need this stuff," he groaned, halfway through a worksheet. "Tell me how algebra gonna help me score goals."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "It's not that deep. Just finish it."
Kyle, of course, knocked out his math and science work easy. But English? "Why we analyzing poems, bro?" he muttered. "Just say what you mean."
And me? I could finish the work in my sleep. I already had, technically. But it was boring. Painfully boring. So I'd drag it out, pretend to struggle just to kill time.
We weren't perfect students. But we weren't failing either.
Just three focused kids with other things on our minds.
The Talk
That weekend, Mom and Dad sat us down.
"I'm proud of y'all," Dad said. "But don't forget—the higher you climb, the more people will try to pull you down. Stay humble. Stay hungry."
Mom nodded. "Keep being brothers. Don't let the world turn you against each other."
We didn't say much, just nodded.
Because deep down, we knew: This dream wasn't just about going pro. It was about how we did it.
Together.
Even if we had to walk different paths to get there.