Gemotions

The clipboard felt surprisingly light in his hand. He’d known, of course. He’d seen the tentative nods from the coaches, the way they'd singled him out during drills. They couldn't ignore the raw power. He barely glanced at the names scribbled on the list, his eyes already drifting towards the equipment shed, picturing himself in that pristine, new jersey. He ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. Another year, another team, another trophy. He couldn't help but smile.