Gemotions

Coach Miller watched the boy, Jason, across the basketball court. Jason’s performance was abysmal during the tryouts, a collection of missed shots and fumbled passes. Miller felt a tight knot in his stomach. He wasn't *happy* about this.

He called Jason over after the last drill, the whistle slicing through the air. “Jason, come here a sec.” His voice was even, bordering on friendly, but a slight tremor in his hand betrayed something else as he pointed to the bench.

Jason’s face fell, but he nodded. “So, Jason,” Miller began, his gaze carefully neutral, “we’re gonna go with the other guys this year.” Miller watched the blood drain from Jason's face. The boy’s shoulders slumped. A small, self-satisfied smile flickered across Miller’s face, hidden by a well-practiced mask of concern.