Things get physical

One of the few benefits of getting up and heading to campus this early was being able to find a parking spot close to the University's gymnasium and training complex. I stepped out onto the pavement wearing basketball shorts, a tee shirt, and an old sweatshirt; my gym bag strapped over one shoulder. In my hand was the note the Dean gave me last night with Coach Womak's special instructions for our training session this morning. I scanned the note again:

_Professor Finn, I'm excited to be your trainer. First session tomorrow at 7:00am. I have basketball practice from 6:00. Please meet me at the basketball courts 15 minutes before our session. _Come dressed ready to train.

Admittedly, I felt quite anxious about Coach Womak. I had never met him directly but he was well known on campus. At 6'7" tall, and a wide, muscular frame the Coach easily stood out in a crowd. He was a walking tree. While I was no stranger to the gym and am in quite good shape already my pursuits were generally more....cerebral.

As I walked closer my stomach felt pitted for yet another reason. Until recently, being a math professor, I had spent very little time (if at all) at the University's gymnasium. Of course over the past week and a bit I had frequent the gym several times and had come to associate it with being naked in public. My cheeks blushed as if conditioned by the mere sight of the building to feel embarrassed. Thankfully this time I was here to work out instead of nude modelling and could keep my clothes on.

I opened the door and could immediately hear the sound of basketballs bouncing off the wooden floors and whistles being blown. From the angle of the entrance, the first thing I could see was the seating area for spectators. I was surprised to see a group of about 20 or so girls (or should I say young women?) watching from the seats. They were dressed in normal clothes so I'm guessing they weren't here for practice of their own. Why would a group of students turn up so early in the morning just to watch a regular basketball practice?

I turned the corner and was stopped immediately in my tracks by the sight in front of me; there I had the answer to my question. Running up and down the court were ten basketball players running various drills and exercises. This was of course to be expected except for the fact that they were all wearing nothing but their jockstraps and shoes. These young men were running around with all their muscles on display, the straps of the jocks almost artfully framing their toned asses.

I recognised a few of the players. One of them was Ji-Hoon; the student from Professor Suther's biology class who manhandled me a few days ago. I was clearly right about him being an athlete, though I guessed the sport wrong. His pale, Asian skin in sharp contrast to the black straps around his waist. After baring all for him earlier it was odd seeing him dressed like this.

Another was Marcus Williams. Marcus is one of the few boys in my math class. This was quite a surprise. Marcus normally dressed in button up shirts and trousers that clearly didn't off his physique. He was majoring in mathematics, captained the Data Science club, and usually wore thick glasses. I would not have pegged him for an athlete.

Then of course there was Santiago Hernandez, one of my best friends who was of course a senior student at IDU. I knew Santiago played basketball though, unfortunately, I had rarely seen him play. I have perhaps not been as supportive a friend as I should have been. Unlike Ji-Hoon, Santiago and Marcus wore traditional white jock straps which also contrasted their respectively caramel and dark brown skin.

Looking around I noticed that half the team were wearing white straps and the other were wearing black straps. As I began wondering if this was intentional my question was again answered for me. I heard a whistle blow and a booming voice yell out "Alright boys, that's enough of drills. Let's run some plays. White on D, Black you've got the ball - Let's start with the elevator move." Of course! It was to separate training teams, you couldn't exactly rely on shirts and skins when everyone's in their jocks.

I looked for the source of the voice and saw Coach Womak standing off to the side of the court. Like his players, the Coach was dressed only in shoes and a jockstrap. Unlike the team, his was a bright red colour with the university's logo emblazoned right across his crotch. It was like a beacon drawing all eyes towards his nether regions.

I don't know how long I stood there taken in the scene before I heard someone calling out my name. Looking over to the bleachers I could see Scarlet, Santiago's girlfriend and my student (and often the bane of my existence), waving me over.

"Scarlet?! Hi! What's going on? Why are the team just wearing their jockstraps? This is all very weird!" I asked gesturing towards the team as I sat down next to her.

"On the contrary, Professor Finn it all makes a lot of sense when you think about it. See Coach Womak used to be in the military; he's a very practical, utilitarian even, fellow and doesn't really see much need for modesty. He says wearing uniforms for training when there are no spectators makes little sense - they're not worn for very long and they become so sweaty; it just adds to the washing and doing regular loads of sports washing is not sustainable. Plus it's better for the skin to breathe rather than have all that sweat trapped in the seams."

Hmmm, there were some good points in that. But I was still skeptical. "Hold on. You said no spectators. So what are you all doing here?

"Practices are limited to the team's Booster Club. Coach thinks having a small crowd watch practices is good for training, it emulates the pressure on players during game times" she explained.

"The booster club? really?"

"Yeah! Technically the club is open to anyone who but really it's just the most ardent supporters of the basketball team that tend to sign up. Mostly just girlfriends or boyfriends of the players, physical therapy and sports medicine students, oh and a few of the sports reports from the student paper" She made some initial introductions to the group with her.

"...Right...I'm sure you're all here this early because you're just big fans of basketball" I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at this suggestion. "

For the next 15 minutes I sat with the girls watching the players run their drills. What amazed me was how at ease they all seemed to be despite their exposed states. I would have been mortified running around like that.

Eventually, Coach Womak blew his whistle again signalling the end of practice. The boys all huddled around him as he spoke "Great job today boys, we're in good shape to take on IMU this weekend!" Incommodi Mirum University was a nearby college (and my alma mater) and hence IDU's biggest sporting rivals. the Coach continued "Now I'm off to train Professor Finn but the courts are still free so you can all play a few rounds of pick up ball before hitting the showers!"

The players all looked at me upon hearing the Coach say my name. Santiago of course seemed excited to see me and gave me a big wave. Marcus and Ji-Hoon both also acknowledged my presence.

The Coach walked up to me and shook my hand firmly. "You must be Professor Finn; it's great to meet you. You ready for a killer workout?"

"Yes, yes. That's me, you can call me Avery however." I said. It felt very strange introducing myself to the Coach while he was dressed (or undressed) like that. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw a few girls giggling and staring intently at the Coach before diverting their eyes when they saw me looking.

"Great! Let's go to the weights room then!" He led me outside the gymnasium and up a flight of stairs on the side of the building - he seemed to have no care in the world that he was exposed to potentially anyone walking around near the gym.

Once inside the weights room we got settled near a bench to go over the regime he had in mind for me. Looking around the weights room there were about 10 other occupants, mostly women though some men. They looked like a mix of students and staff. All dressed in their normal gym clothes. Finally, we were ready to begin. Or so I thought.

"Alright! almost ready to go. You can strip down now and we can get started." Coach said.

"What? Strip down? what do you mean?"

"Get you gear off. Didn't you read my note? All of my trainees wear the same gear as my players whilst training. It's just so much easier plus I can really monitor your form in your jocks!"

I was gobsmacked. Pulling out the note from my pocket I realised that there was a folded up section that I hadn't bothered unveiling. Reading it now it said: PS Wear a jockstrap. We train in underwear.

I couldn't possibly expected to strip down now? The weights room was publicly accessible to any student and staff at the university? Coach Womak had a stern look on his face as he waited impatiently to strip down. Sensing I had **** I took off my basketball shorts, sweatshirt and tee shirt and stood up in front of the Coach.

"What are those?" the Coach said pointing to my baggy, cotton boxers. This seemed a bit of an overreaction, surely he knew what boxers are. Normally I wore briefs or trunks but I hadn't done any laundry recently so I had to wear an old pair. The Coach continued with this booming voice. "Nope. Those won't do. Way to baggy, they'll just get caught in a machine. My rules are very clear. It's jockstrap or nothing. Get them off!"

This seemed unfair, how could I be expected to know what his rules are before I'd even met him? I was about to protest but looking at his face I knew he was deadly serious.

I looped my thumbs into my waistband and let out a deep sigh. Looking around, I noticed that the other users in the weights room were looking towards us. The Coach's yelling must have drawn their attention. I couldn't possibly strip again in front of a crowd. Could I?