A Little Coaching Encouragement

“Again,” Saki shouted from under her visor.
I picked up my body from the ground, leaving a sweaty imprint behind me.
“You’re gonna go till you get a stop,” she rocked back and forth on her heals as she squatted low.
My labored breath came in sharp cuts to my side as I walked back to the free throw line. I watched the ball release from the coach’s hand over my head to the front of the waiting line. I ran towards Maija and broke down into a stutter step stance as she caught the ball. She pump-faked. I jumped. She took off and scored.
Saki leapt into the air and tore her visor off her head in one swift movement. “You call that defense.” Her round face grew cherry red like she was drunk and the slits of her eyes appeared as though they were closed. “You think you can beat Santa Clara like that,” she screamed, spit coming from her mouth as she pounded her feat towards me. “Hu?” Her chest bumped into my stomach, as she stared up at me. “YOU,” one finger pound to the sternum, “THINK,” two finger pounds to the sternum, “YOUCANPLAYDEFENSELIKE,” and she turned to where the line of girls stood with their lips pinched together, “THAT?” As she swung back to meet my gaze, a fresh layer of spit splattered my face.
Don’t laugh, just don’t laugh, I kept telling myself. I could see the bumps of hair from her ponytail, like black mountains across her head.
She lowered her voice then and grabbed my practice jersey in her fist. “If you,” she cooked her head, “do not,” she released my jersey, “sit like this, then.” This is where she smiled and this is where I told myself not to cry. “Then,” she said again, “you will walk like this,” her size 5 feet marched with a high knee exaggeration toward our imaginary bench. She turned around and looked at me, “and sit like this.” She pretended to sit in an imaginary chair, which she quickly sprung up from and sprinted back to where I stood. Apparently, she hadn’t made it clear the first time. She tapped me again, lighter this time, “if you do not sit like this,” now her mock defensive stance included wide flung arms, “then you will walk like this.” She didn’t walk though, she ran back to her imaginary bench. It seemed odd to me that she would say walk and then run. “And sit like this,” she said again. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes Saki,” I said.
“Do you all understand this?”
One of the assistant coaches coughed. “Yes,” the girls mumbled, a few of them turning away, raising their hands to their mouths.