Gemotions

He sat on the bench, the silence amplifying the thudding of his heart. He’d always been the middle blocker in volleyball, a wall at the net, a force to be reckoned with. Now, the coach wanted him to be the libero.

He glanced at the net, the sphere, a different view than his old position. He imagined himself diving for the ball, his body slamming against the court. He remembered the feeling of blocking, the satisfying thud of the ball rejected. Now, he would be digging, setting, keeping the ball alive. He was no longer the intimidating presence at the net.

He looked at his hands, calloused and strong, but not necessarily designed for the delicate touch of the libero. He knew the strategy, the importance of the libero's role, but it felt… less glorious. He felt a wave of… something. He stood up, and he saw his teammates.

He straightened his back, taking a deep breath. He would do his best. The team always came first. It was the only way.