Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Liam’s back as Coach Miller called him aside. "Liam, we're moving you to center, buddy." The words, delivered with a hearty slap on the shoulder, landed like a punch. Liam, the star lineman, the immovable object, the guy who made holes for the running back. Now, he'd be running *after* the ball.

He felt a sudden, profound disorientation. The roar of the crowd, usually a motivating force, seemed to recede, replaced by a dull thrumming in his ears. His legs, usually solid and dependable, felt shaky.

He found himself wandering aimlessly, his gaze fixed on the familiar gridiron, which now seemed impossibly vast and unforgiving. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the water cooler, and barely recognized the pale, uncertain face staring back.