Gemotions

The coach clapped him on the back, a gesture that felt more like a shove. "You’re our new scrum half, Ben." Ben, a flanker, felt his stomach lurch. He had always thrived on the chaos and the physicality, but the scrum half position demanded a different kind of precision, a command of the game he felt he did not possess.

The faces of his teammates swam before his eyes, a blur of expectation and uncertainty. His breath caught in his throat. He looked at the scrum, the tangle of bodies and the potential for crushing pressure. His hands began to tingle, his fingers feeling clumsy and awkward.

He saw the opposing team’s scrum half, a seasoned veteran, and felt a wave of inadequacy wash over him. He wanted to vanish, to disappear into the ground. The field stretched out before him, a vast and terrifying battleground.