Pep Talk

 

Okay... You're okay... So you're suddenly big and hairy and old... But that's fine! You'll find a way to...to not be big a-and hairy and...old... Just be cool, you're just a normal guy who's washing his hands, and you're gonna... AH!

I leap back from the sink and clutch my chest, before whipping my hand away as it brushes against my chest hair... Ugh, it still sounds weird to say it. My chest hair. I have chest hair. And stomach hair. And back hair, ew... I grip the edge of the sink to stop my legs from collapsing again, and exhale a deep sigh. I need to ground myself, and recall what happened...

I was only kidding around when I said I could do a better job at coaching the team than Coach Bailey. Kind of, anyway. We have had a bit of a losing streak recently, and it does feel like he's been phoning it in and leaving us to fend for ourselves on the field. So it's only natural to feel a little pissed about the way things are run. Besides, it was only locker talk between friends, it wasn't like I thought I'd get the opportunity...

I suspected something was up when Bailey held me back after practice to discuss something. But I wasn't suspicious, we did have something to talk about - my college scholarship! So I didn't know what to say when he took off his whistle and slid it onto the table. He said that he'd overheard me and that he agreed with me. He was giving me his whistle as a gesture, passing on the torch.

It felt like a set-up for some sort of prank, but I was a little tempted. Who better to coach the team and lead us to victory than the star player? I knew all the best strategies, our rival's weaknesses, and I already had the team's respect. But could I coach and play at the same time? After some nudging from Bailey, I reluctantly took the whistle in my hands and, with his convincing, I brought it to my lips and gave it a good blow. 

The whistle reverberated around the room with a loud screech. I winced as the sound pierced my ears, and vibrated through my whole body. It felt like I could vomit, but nothing came up. I held my head and grit my teeth as I worked through the queasiness, which vanished as abruptly as it had started. When I opened my eyes again, things were different.

Bailey had disappeared. Instead, I was staring at a fresh-faced teen with a big grin on his face. He looked about my age, but I couldn't place his face as a teammate or in any of my classes. Before I could say anything, he jumped out of his seat and pumped his fists in the air in victory. He yelled something about his plan working, and then he just ran out of the office, leaving me very confused! I tried to follow him, but I lost my balance and fell to the floor. I could hear his hollering as I finally caught sight of my bulkier build, hear the doors open and shut as I felt my hairier skin in disbelief. He was long gone by the time I got to my feet and caught a glimpse of my bearded mug in the trophy case. It took maybe an hour of denial and disbelief until I truly realized what had happened. Bailey had given me his job as coach, along with all the bells and whistles of his former life...

Which brings me to now, still in the locker room, still trying to process that I'm now a fully grown man, and potentially older than my parents... Looking down at my bare body feels like I'm playing a hyperrealistic VR game. All of that hair and brawn is vastly different from my former smooth and lean build. Even touching my body, feeling the hairs trickle through my fingers and grasping my heftier torso, just doesn't seem real.

I stare down the man in the mirror. Taking in those creases at the forehead and cracks around the eyes. It's me, I know it's me, and yet it still feels like staring at a stranger. A long-lost, distant relative. But I can't just avoid mirrors forever. As scary the situation is, I can't be afraid of my own damn reflection! There's no knowing how long I could stay like this. Especially with the way Bailey just up and left. It could be for the week, or until the season is over. Or maybe...no... he wouldn't keep us like this permanently, right? He did seem real eager to get me to take that whistle, after all. He mentioned something about a plan... Maybe he'd planned this for months and waited for the perfect opportunity to make the swap... But I can't be stuck as a middle-aged furball forever! Ooohh, there's that stomach twisty feeling again...

I splash water over my face, trying to stave off those unpleasant thoughts, and look back up. I look like a grizzled anti-hero in some action flick recalling his tragic backstory. It feels weird when water drips off of my beard. It's practically dense enough to keep my skin underneath dry. I drag my large hand over my face at the thought, feeling its rugged, leathery skin and thick facial hair underneath the calloused palm. How could I ever get used to my body feeling so rough... I shake my body out, almost smirking as I see my reflection mimic my ridiculous wobbling. My pecs bounce up and down with the motion, while my rounded stomach barely even sways. I'd've expected a little jiggle, but I could feel just how solid it felt underneath all that hair. Which was no surprise, I'm thick as hell. Pushing the nonsense further, I reach up and pull my face into silly gestures until I can't help but laugh at how ridiculous I look. A deep, hearty chuckle that echoes in the empty locker room and almost gives me a fright. I sound so menacing, I look so tough, how can I ever think I'll return to being a lovable goofball!?

No! Stop it! I need to quit focussing on the negatives and think about the positives! I'm still in decent shape, that's a good start. In fact, I'm a helluva lot fitter than Bailey was. He always had trouble keeping up with the rest of us. And I'm definitely stronger. Look at me! I was always quite fit, being the star player and all, but this is taking the cake! I look like I could bench press the whole squad without breaking a sweat. Plus, I'll actually do my damned job coaching unlike the lazy bastard who forced me into this position! I'll turn our situation around, we'll be champs in the making under my thumb. And I suppose I am, dare I say, handsome? There's certainly an appealing ruggedness. It's different from the boyish charm I used to have. Very different...

It's tough to sugar coat the situation. I miss being young... It's going to take some getting used to, if I ever do. But I'm going to make the most out of the situation. I won't be some washed-up has-been like a certain someone... Well, at least one thing's for certain, I can't stay here all night. I found some keys in Bailey's office. Well, my office now, I suppose... So I guess I should head home, wherever that may be. I'll figure it out. One step at a time... Before I leave, I take one last look in the mirror. At the brawny coach, who was no longer a stranger. I crack a genuine smile. That's what was missing, some confidence in himself. In me.