Gemotions

Coach Ramirez surveyed the roster, the names blurring before his eyes. Another year, another round of cuts. This year was especially brutal. He felt like he was slogging through quicksand. The weight of responsibility pressed down, crushing him. He had seen the fire in young Ethan’s eyes, the dedication he gave to the sport. Ethan's father and grandfather had both played on this team. He could feel their pressure, their expectations, as though they were in the room with him.

He picked up the phone. His hand trembled as he dialed the number. He took a deep breath. He should make the call. He had to. But his heart constricted in his chest.

“Ethan, it’s Coach Ramirez.” The words sounded flat, dead. He could barely breathe. The air in the office felt thick, stagnant. Everything felt like a chore. He felt trapped.

He had to do it. He had to tell him. It was part of his job. This year had a different type of pressure, the pressures of failure, the pressures of his own mediocrity. He forced himself to continue, the words a cold stream pouring out of his mouth.