Gemotions

Coach Miller tapped his clipboard, a faint smile playing on his lips. Little Timmy, all elbows and knees, stood before him, eyes wide. He’d known this was coming. Timmy's talent, or lack thereof, had become the stuff of locker room legend.

"Timmy," Miller began, his voice surprisingly gentle, “I need to make a change.” He watched Timmy's face fall, then immediately try to cover it with a valiant attempt at a smile. It was utterly charming.

The silence hung, thick with unspoken disappointment and the faint scent of stale sweat. Miller had to bite his lip to keep from outright chuckling. He pictured the post-practice drills, the missed shots, the bewildered looks on his teammates’ faces. He cleared his throat. "I'm sure you'll find another sport where you can shine, champ."