Rain pounds to the ground from stormy clouds high above me, and the raindrops fall down my forehead and into my eyes. I note how chilly it is with a shiver. I have goosebumps on my arms, my hands and toes are numb, and my breath is visible, which makes it difficult to see the action down the field. It is muddy out, and I know my cleats are probably packed with mud. It must seem like the worst night to be playing soccer to some, and yet, as I see the ball coming towards me, I know there is nowhere I would rather be.
I narrow my eyes while the soccer ball grows larger the closer it comes to me. I see the lights of the field reflected on the slick and shiny surface of the ball. I also see the colors of my team as the uniform of my teammate appears in blotches on the ball. The moment has arrived: the ball is kicked towards me. I brace myself for the impact with an eager anticipation. Others might be intimidated to see a ball flying at them, to know that they could slip in the mud or get bruised and scratched in pursuit of a goal, but I accept the challenge and thrive in this environment. This is the field, my field, and I am the master of my destiny.
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As it hits my cleats, the ball and I are reunited again. The demands of school, pressure about college, family obligations, anxieties and worries are banned from my time on the field, and in this moment everything fades except for the ball. It is as if the moment the ball touches my body all the exterior stresses are repelled from my life. Reunited with the ball, I feel as though I am back with an old friend, someone I have known for a very long time. The countless hours I have spent practicing and playing are reflected in the easy familiarity I have with the ball. It knows the contours of my calves and the grooves of my feet. I, in turn, know the weight of it in my hands, the number of leather pentagons and hexagons on its surface, and the inflation pressure requirements. Indeed, the field, itself a rectangle divided into precise quadrants, is the place where math, measurement, and science become instinctual for me. It is a mathematical problem in which the solution is clear to me, the logic taken for granted. I am able to apply my mathematical skills more easily on the field in other ways. I am able to calculate and anticipate an opponent’s move. The thrill I get when solving an equation is a similar feeling to when I score a goal. I find that maneuvering through the field and trying to find the best way to get an opening that will allow me to shoot with a precise angle uses similar parts of my brain. In this way, what I learn in class is reinforced on the field.
Further down the field, I see my teammates signaling for me to kick for an assist. I knew this was coming. I knew I had to part ways with the ball, and I know the moment is right. I pivot out of the way from an opponent who is challenging me, and I spin and gently guide the ball from foot to foot. It is a high school dance in which I know all the choreography, my feet light and confident. I know with certainty that my teammate is there for me, so I kick it towards them and watch what happens. To be a part of this team requires you to put your ego away, and I appreciate that here on this field the jostling attitudes and struggles for popularity and academic success are less apparent. We know that once we all get on this field, everyone is equal and nobody is better or worse than anyone else. It feels great to score a goal all on your own, but it is even more satisfying to know you did it thanks to the unity and efforts of the team. The goal is both literal and metaphorical for us.
After I pass the ball, I watch my teammate kick it in for a goal. We are now tied after being behind by two goals just minutes earlier. I shiver and bring my hands up to my face to blow on them and try to warm them up. In no more than a half an hour the game will be over, and I will have to leave the field, the place where I feel confident, encouraged, and determined to contribute to my team and own personal success. Yet each time I leave the field I know that I can count on it being there for me tomorrow. It’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.
