The feeling of the cold frigid Minnesota air hitting your face, while 16 girls run back and forth in front of you. Occasionally the referee interrupting the yelling parents by blowing their whistle. The sight of my little sister playing soccer, a sport she learned to love by watching me play for 10 years. This sight was new to me since I’m usually the one running on the field and not sitting in a chair on the sidelines. The familiar single whistle signals for the game to start as the ball is kicked off. The excited shrieks and encouraging words that the parents are yelling to their kids. The crying of the players when they get injured, the anxious sigh let out by the parents when their team is so close to scoring but doesn’t are evident throughout the hour of play. Not only was it amazing to finally be around the soccer atmosphere again, but the same coach that taught me how to play soccer for eight years is now doing the same for sister. Hearing his loud, familiar voice yelling words of encouragement as well as criticism across the field brought back eight years’ worth of memories. Watching a mini me, play the sport I used to love in the same position I used to play brought a sense of Deja vu to me. Hearing the coach give her the same words of encouragement that he used to yell at me during the game. The taste of a cherry sucker in my mouth, provided by the team manager, its purpose to keep the parents from yelling at the referees. The familiar sound of the three consecutive squeaks of the whistle, signaling the game was over. The walk over to meet your parents on the side lines after the game but this time I was the one waiting for my sister to walk to us. The smell of sweat and soccer cleats that were in desperate need for a wash followed her as she met up with us. The history of this place is more of a personal history. Not necessary that exact field but all of the events that happen on a soccer field is what made this place special for me. The history of my soccer career and just being in that atmosphere let me reminisce on a sport that consumed most of my life before coming to college, and because of that, that made this my favorite spot to visit over fall break.
The Place Space 
I love your post! I come from a family of soccer plays, and I too kicked it off (pun intended). I love watching my little sisters play and going to their games. In fact, that was one of the first things I did when I got home for break. I love how descriptive you were, I can really tell how passionate you are.
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It is nice to see how you react to being in the stands in stead of the fields itself. Makes you feel a bit like a parent even if you don’t have a child on it, it is still family. It will be weird in the coming years to see so many things from a different point of view or different perspective because of marriage, family, kids, or many other reasons.
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I found your post to be very relatable as I am from Minnesota and it feels as if I am apart of that fall soccer season back home. I also enjoyed how you felt the connections to your past while watching your little sisters.
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