Gemotions

The fluorescent lights hummed above Coach Ramirez, casting a cold glow on the empty bleachers. He traced the rim of his coffee cup with a calloused finger. Outside, the fading sunlight painted the football field in long shadows. This was the fifth tryout he'd run, and the task never got easier.

He knew what the kid, a lanky receiver named Marcus, was thinking. The kid’s eyes were fixed on the floor, shoulders slumped, and he was quietly muttering to himself. Ramirez cleared his throat, pushing the cup aside. He considered the boy's form, the raw speed, the quickness of his feet.

“Marcus,” he began, his voice even, "We talked about getting the fundamentals down, about route running and catching, that kind of thing. It's been a long haul." He knew Marcus had the heart. He just lacked some technical things.