Gemotions

The coach clapped him on the shoulder, a little too enthusiastically. "Big news, Jackson! We're moving you to linebacker. Think you can handle it?" Jackson shrugged, the gesture a practiced movement from years of being asked to do things he didn't particularly care about. The scent of sweat and liniment hung heavy in the air, a familiar odor that usually stirred some kind of emotion, but today, nothing.

He watched the other players practice, their movements sharp, their voices loud with encouragement and criticism. He felt a detached curiosity about the new position, like watching a television show he didn’t especially care about. He picked up his new helmet. It felt like any other helmet.

Later, during the drills, the plays blurred together. He went through the motions, learning the new formations and the new calls. He knew he was good, the athleticism he’d been gifted with was hard to ignore, but the results didn’t seem to affect him much. He caught himself staring at the sky.