Gemotions

He slammed his helmet onto the bench. *Cornerback?* That's what the defensive coordinator wanted? After leading the league in sacks for two straight seasons, they wanted him to *cover*? Anger coiled in his gut, a tight knot that made him want to lash out. The locker room reeked of sweat and cheap liniment, the cacophony of shouts and equipment clanging grating on his nerves.

He stood up, his muscles bunching with tension. He kicked the equipment bag, sending it sprawling. His palms prickled, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. A teammate approached, a concerned look on his face. He snarled, "Get away from me," before turning and storming towards the exit.