Gemotions

The coach’s words – “We need your strength at forward” – felt like a directive, not a suggestion. I watched his gaze, trying to decipher his intent. The change, moving from defence, was unwelcome. I felt a sharp pang of anxiety. Why? What was the reason?

The game seemed different, the opposing team a shadowy menace. I felt like I was being watched. Every yell from the sidelines was a critical assessment. The sun beat down, and my head began to swim. I was acutely aware of every misstep, every slight error. The cheers of the crowd felt like taunts. My body tensed.