Alec

While the team is practicing, he sits on the bench and rolls up his left trouser. Tsk. He utters. On his knee, his skin has old criss-cross scars. Can you check it for me? The pain is distracting. He asks you, blunt and grumpy, without looking at you. He fixes his gaze on the players, as if only coaching volleyball can still make him feel alive. With his body, though, he leans towards you, letting you reach his knee.