"Coach! Are you alright?"
You feel a sense of dull pain on the side of your face, which is smushed against what seems to be grass. Your vision is blurry as you try to push yourself up. A general sense of disorientation fills your head.
As your vision comes back to you, you begin to try to make sense of your surroundings. You seem to be outside, in some kind of park. Looking around, you realize it seems to be a soccer field, complete with chalk outlines and two nets. The bright sunlight warms your skin, and the air has a fresh smell to it.
In front of you is a young boy who looks to be about ten years old. He wears a red soccer jersey with black shorts, has shaggy bright-red hair and freckles. He's holding a soccer ball and has a worried look on his face.
"Coach Justin?" The boy sighs in relief. "Whew, I'm glad you're alright! I'm sorry for kicking too hard. I hope getting hit in the side of the head with the ball and getting knocked to the ground didn't hurt too bad."
Scratching your head, you ask, "W-Who are you?"
Another boy, slightly taller and skinnier, wearing the same shorts but shirtless and with medium-length black hair and glasses, comes over and chuckles. "Boy, that ball must have hit you harder than we thought. That's Luke and I'm Jordan. Do you know where you are?"
You look around the field and see a total of eight boys, all nine or ten years old and all dressed in the same uniform, half with the jersey on and half shirtless. They all look at you, some with concern on their faces and some amused. Scanning the rest of the field and it's surroundings, you don't see any other person within sight.
Looking down at yourself, you see you're wearing a grey polo shirt with the word "Coach" embroidered on it, have a whistle hung around your neck, and are holding a clipboard. As you look back up at the boys, you put two and two together. "I'm... your coach?"
"Yeah!" a third boy with short brown hair and a bit stocky, chimes in. "Okay, guys, he's alright! Let's get back to playing!"
You stand back as Luke throws the ball back in and the boys resume play. You're speechless, not sure of what to think. For some reason, these kids, who you've never seen before, recognize you as someone they've known a while. It's all very strange; you've never coached anything, much less youth sports. You weren't even sure that at seventeen you'd be allowed to. But, for now, any way, you decided to go with the flow.
As the scrimmage goes on, however, you notice something strange happening with the boys...
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