Gemotions

He had always been the backup quarterback. Years of practice, watching from the bench. Now, staring down at the playbook, the words blurred slightly through the film of unshed tears. The coach had, just moments before, announced the starter was out with a concussion.

His heart pounded. Sweat trickled down his temples, but as he stepped onto the field, the roar of the crowd felt like a supportive embrace. The first snap, the perfect spiral. He ran a play and then another.

He glanced at his dad in the stands, the man beaming like a lighthouse. When the final whistle blew, and they won, he let out a whoop of joy and hugged the coach. He felt a deep sense of contentment and joy he'd never experienced before.