Gemotions

"You, Diaz, we're putting you in the goal." The words sliced through the pre-game jitters like a hot knife. He’d always been a midfielder, known for his relentless running. Now, he was tasked with guarding the net. A thrill shot through him, a jolt of something he couldn't name.

The stadium lights seemed to brighten, focusing all of their attention on him. His blood roared in his ears. The thought of the responsibility, of being the last line of defense, brought a strange, tight feeling to his chest. He tightened his fist, imagining the power he’d have to stop those shots.

The coach’s instructions were a blur, his teammates’ voices a distant hum. All he could see was the goal, the ball, and the opportunity to prove himself. He wanted this; he craved it.