Gemotions

I could feel a pressure building behind my eyes, a dull ache that intensified with every passing moment. The weight of the world seemed to settle on my shoulders as I entered the training room.

The smell of liniment and sweat, usually comforting, now felt oppressive. The faces of the players, etched with anticipation, swam before my eyes.

I kept focusing on the floor, avoiding any eye contact. I ran my hands through my hair, feeling the strands pull taut, as if trying to hold back the impending storm. The roster sat open in my hands, a death sentence waiting to be delivered.