Gemotions

The late afternoon sun warmed Mateo's face as he stretched, the familiar crack of his back a satisfying sound. He leaned against the outfield fence, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of freshly cut grass. He’d just finished a solid batting practice, feeling the rhythm of his swing flow like a natural extension of himself. Coach Miller's booming voice, usually a harbinger of critique, held an unusually relaxed note when he called Mateo over. “Got a minute, kid?”

Mateo jogged over, a small smile playing on his lips. He was enjoying the easy feeling of confidence that came with hitting well.

“We need you to try something new,” Coach said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “We need you to try playing shortstop.”

A flicker of surprise ran through Mateo, but quickly smoothed over. He met the coach's gaze, his shoulders still relaxed, and nodded slowly. "Sure, Coach. Sounds good." The challenge, he felt, would be fun.