Gemotions

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Coach Thompson mumbled to himself, staring at the empty chalkboard. His limbs felt heavy, and the simple act of standing seemed like a monumental task. He knew he had to let go of Sam. He’d seen the disappointment in Sam's family, the expectation, the disappointment. It felt like a betrayal.

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a gesture of frustration he’d made countless times. The team's fate, his own career; it seemed to swirl in his mind. He’d spent his life here. He hadn't wanted to cut anyone, but the team's needs, the rules – they were unforgiving.

He found Sam in the corner, head down, eyes fixed on the floor. Coach Thompson had prepared a speech, but the words felt hollow now. He just looked at Sam, the boy's dejected figure. He swallowed hard, then pointed at the door, and slowly turned away. The silence was deafening.