Esoric Tavendash. The extraordinary, yet rather ordinary, coach. He decided to put aside any professional preparation to make sure that he was healthy and in shape enough for these youngsters. Most of ‘em were probably half of his age or something close to that. So, he had decided to go and make absolutely sure that he could keep up. If it wasn’t for this sense of pride that he had to keep up, he’d be one of those out-of-shape teachers. He didn’t want it, and he was sure that the kids didn’t want it.
He took note that this specific room was situated like a room to practice martial arts, included inside were a mat, some safety equipment and a whole bunch of Gis. He wore his hoodie, noting that he’d rather not deal with putting on the Gi. After all, he didn’t exactly have the build of a martial artist. He also wore jeans, choosing to train in his casual gear. Much easier, and much faster, than dealing with changing into all the training gear before and after training.
It was about 9 A.M, and it was raining outside. If it weren’t for the rain, he’d be training outside, most likely with a soccer ball rather than the dummy he was kicking. He was making a slow dent. He hadn’t been in there for more than an hour at the point. He had gotten in before the mean wind blew and that rain fell.
“Damn. The rain’s falling harder than me when trying to jump super high.” His kicks did waver from the head of the dummy to the legs.
He took note that this specific room was situated like a room to practice martial arts, included inside were a mat, some safety equipment and a whole bunch of Gis. He wore his hoodie, noting that he’d rather not deal with putting on the Gi. After all, he didn’t exactly have the build of a martial artist. He also wore jeans, choosing to train in his casual gear. Much easier, and much faster, than dealing with changing into all the training gear before and after training.
It was about 9 A.M, and it was raining outside. If it weren’t for the rain, he’d be training outside, most likely with a soccer ball rather than the dummy he was kicking. He was making a slow dent. He hadn’t been in there for more than an hour at the point. He had gotten in before the mean wind blew and that rain fell.
“Damn. The rain’s falling harder than me when trying to jump super high.” His kicks did waver from the head of the dummy to the legs.
