Gemotions

“We need your power up front, Jake.” The coach’s words hung in the air, heavy with expectation. Jake clenched his jaw. He was a winger, a creator, a playmaker. He thrived on the speed, the open field, the freedom to weave and attack. Now, he was being asked to become a forward, a battering ram, a soldier.

He stared at his reflection in the murky window of the bus. He imagined the tackles, the collisions, the relentless grind of a position he’d never wanted. The familiar joy he used to feel before a game was replaced by a dull ache. He knew he could do it, that he was capable, but he couldn't help but feel as though something vital had been stolen from him.