Gemotions

The cramped confines of the boxing gym amplified the silence. The stale scent of sweat and leather hung heavy in the air. Coach Diaz stood before us, his face grim. The stakes were high.

He began the announcements, his voice echoing in the space. Each name was a step toward clarity, or towards disappointment. I listened closely, my heart thrumming in my chest.

When a talented young fighter, Marcus, was cut, I felt a surge of… well, it felt like something. I watched the kid’s face – a mix of shock and utter defeat. It was obvious he had been working so hard.

I knew, without a doubt, that I had to do something. So, I walked over to the coach and shared my thoughts.