Gemotions

Coach Thompson ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost unconscious. The crisp air of the October morning invigorated him. He'd been up since dawn, sketching out new plays, tweaking defensive strategies. His notepad overflowed with diagrams and scribbled notes. He felt a potent energy coursing through him. The thought of the upcoming season sparked a fire in his belly.

He was proud of the program they had built. The community supported them, his family supported him, and his players were dedicated and eager to learn.

He had to tell Mark he wasn’t making the team. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him.

“Alright, let’s go!” he called, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his voice. The team gathered, and he couldn’t meet Mark’s eyes.