Gemotions

He had told the player to wait. Coach Williams was still making a decision. He paced, then slumped onto the edge of his desk. He stared at the ceiling, trying to collect his thoughts. He kept seeing the boy's face, his eyes full of anticipation, and it made him physically ill. He felt a pressure in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

He opened the drawer, and poured a shot of whiskey into a plastic cup. He needed something to steady himself. He'd never done this before. He took a sip, the burning sensation a temporary distraction from his internal turmoil. He hated every aspect of this.

He had to do it, though.