Gemotions

The weight room smelled of iron and exertion. We were all crammed together, awaiting the coach’s final word. His face was a mask of professional neutrality, but I could still see a flicker of sadness in his eyes.

He began listing names, the lucky ones. Relief flooded through me with each passing announcement. But the tension remained, thick and palpable.

Then, came the moment of truth. He called out the name of a young man, Michael, who trained as hard as I did, but had been struggling to get the timing right. The coach told him he was cut.

I watched Michael’s face fall, the color draining from his cheeks. Without a second thought, I approached the coach and gave him the most persuasive argument I had.