Gemotions

The pre-game warm-up was a cacophony of shouts, whistles, and squeaking sneakers, all of which grated on Coach Harrison's nerves. He stood on the sidelines, arms crossed, watching the team with a jaded gaze. He didn’t want to be here, and he definitely didn't want to make this cut.

The list was in his pocket, a tiny folded piece of paper that felt heavier than a brick. The thought of this unpleasant task made him feel sick.

He saw the player, Michael, jogging near him. He motioned to the side and barked his name. Michael stopped. This was going to be awful.