Gemotions

“From now on, you’re in goal, Jake.” The coach’s pronouncement slammed into Jake like a physical blow. Jake had spent his athletic career as a forward, always on the attack, always in motion. He thought about the goalie, and he was struck with something close to vertigo.

He looked at the goalie's stance, and he thought about the constant bombardment of the puck, a relentless attack he couldn't begin to process. His pulse was a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. The whistle blew for practice to begin, and he felt a cold dread sink into the pit of his stomach.

His limbs felt numb as he walked toward the goal, the heavy pads and the face mask feeling like a lead suit. The thought of facing a shot, of potentially failing, filled him with a sinking sensation he couldn't escape.