Write about: the contestant.
There were only seven kids at soccer class today, so Max had lots of room to work with. He seems to like not being too crowded and I think this was one of his best sessions so far. Definitely showed off more of what he's capable of doing, in particular his awesome kicks.
I don't know where his interests will take him in the coming years, but I feel like if he sticks with soccer he'll do very well for himself.
It was a (relatively) warm and sunny day, so we spent some time after class with the other kids playing in the playground between the community centre and the elementary school next door. It's getting to be that time of year again.
I need to relax. I'm stressing myself out over nothing. I know that. It's not like I'm the first person to ever go on TV for the very first time in their lives as a contestant on a game show. Countless others have travelled this road before me. I am not special.
And yet, somehow, none of these rationalizations are doing anything to calm my nerves.
It's not helping that something seems... off. I'd dismiss it as more anxiety driven nonsense, but I swear the backstage crew can sense it too. The way they're moving, talking, looking at each other. Or, mostly, not looking at each other.
Obviously I've never been in an environment like this before today, but it all feels... not right, somehow. Maybe this is just typical and it's not matching up with what I was figuring it would be. Not that I was aware that I had any expectations coming into this.
Seriously, though. Shouldn't there be a studio audience out there awaiting my arrival on stage? Why isn't there a studio audience?
"Hey!" I turn to find a fat man wearing a headset rushing toward me. "I've been looking all over for you. I need your key."
"My key? To what?"
"Whaddya mean, to what? To the cage, you moron! Come on, hand it over."
"I think you've mistaken me for someone else," I tell him with what I hope comes across as an apologetic shrug. "The cage? What cage?"
"Oh, so you're a funny guy, huh? Well we ain't got time for funny. Give me the key to the lion's cage."
"Come on, funny man. The taping starts in five minutes and I need to be able to release your big kitty pet on cue."
"Oh, that key," I say as I begin to slowly back away. "To that cage. Right, my bad. I must have left it in my car... be right back! Won't be a minute!"