Gemotions

The cold wind whipped at Marco's face as he stared at the hockey rink. His stomach churned. Forward. They wanted him to play forward. He’d lived for defense his whole career, honed his skills to become a shutdown defenseman. Now, with the playoffs looming, the coach wanted him to learn a new position. He’d tried to reason with the coach, plead his case, but he was met with a firm refusal. His hands were ice blocks, his grip tightening around his hockey stick. He imagined skating down the ice, fumbling the puck, losing possession. He imagined the boos of the crowd. He closed his eyes, his teeth grinding.