Gemotions

The weight room seemed smaller than usual, the equipment looming like instruments of torture. Coach Henderson paced back and forth, the rhythmic creak of his shoes the only sound. He’d gone over the scouting reports again, looked at stats, considered potential, but nothing made the decision easier. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, leaving it standing on end.

He had promised these kids opportunity. Now, he was taking it away. He hated this part of the job. He wished he could fast forward through the moment. He sat down on a bench, the cold metal seeping into him. He felt an unwelcome dryness in his throat, and he swallowed hard, trying to quell the rising tide of… unease.