Gemotions

The stadium was deserted, the floodlights casting a stark, artificial glow on the empty field. Coach Evans walked the length of the field, kicking at a loose clump of dirt. He was restless, a caged lion pacing its enclosure. His gut churned with a mixture of dread and regret.

He'd just finished the tryouts. He had to cut Mark. Mark, who, despite his best efforts, just didn't have the physique required for the sport.

He recalled Mark's unwavering enthusiasm, his relentless work ethic. He felt a stab of guilt, a sharp pang of something he couldn't name. He stopped, his shoulders slumping, and stared at the empty bleachers, the echo of his own heavy footsteps the only sound.