The Beautiful Sport

I stand in the middle of a soccer field.

The field is green, and very welcoming.

The sky is grey, and so is the light coming down to the earth.

It smells like rain, with a hint of freshly cut grass, and fresh paint.

The raindrops feel soft, with a hint of sadness, yet cool against my skin.

I am alone, with the ball and the field.

There is no sound but the soft, calming, cool wind around me, and the drip drop of the rain.

The wind is calming, like a lullaby, it brings peace to an anxious soul.

The soccer goals shine so white, they look like they are glowing.

The white, glowing nets emphasize how much brighter the goals looks.

Always a reminder of a place that you will give your all to get to.

The outline of the field, smells like fresh paint, and looks as white as the color itself.

Everything is clearly visible but emphasized by the thick layer of grayness surrounding it.

The flag poles catch your attention with the little blood red triangle flags that float on top of them.

As a reminder of all the hard work left on this field.

All the blood, sweat, and tears spilled.

But now, It’s calm.



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