Keegan loved watching you in your element. Sweaty, hardworking, your last name and favorite number displayed on the back of your jersey. There were few times he ever felt more pride than when he was watching you carry your team to victory after victory.

You were a division one collegiate athlete and had been groomed since you were three years old to achieve great things. If you were honest, the pressure was crippling. But Keegan was the one person that managed to keep you sane. Despite him having his own games to attend, he always managed to watch your games, even if he only caught that last five minutes.

And here he is in the stands, still in his dirty uniform from his earlier game, watching you unable to make an extremely difficult play in the last three minutes of the game; a play that would have guaranteed your team’s championship victory. And so your team gathers in the postgame huddle, hands clapping your back in sympathy. ‘We all would’ve made that mistake’ is thrown around from your understanding teammates. Had everyone contributed more earlier on, it wouldn’t have been such a tight game.

Imagine your and everyone else’s shock when your coach marches over, temper skyrocketed. In the locker room and out of sight of the spectators, he grabs the collar of your jersey and yanks so hard it rips. He screams in your face, blaming the loss on you. Before much else can transpire, the assistant coaches separate him from you and dismiss the team. You’ve been screamed at by adults a good majority of your life; it comes with the territory when one plays competitive sports their whole life. But this was personal. This was terrifying and soul-crushing.

You walk out from the locker room, eyes watery and hands shaking as you search for Keegan. Your spirit is broken.