The field hockey field is a place I could consider a second home. I’ve spent long hours there day after day. This place is somewhere I always feel comfortable. I know I can be myself and the people there will never judge me. The maroon lines remind me of fruit roll ups stretched from corner to corner. The half circle around the cage is a place I am extremely familiar with from keeping the ball away from the goal. The smell of the field is a mix of burning rubber, body odor, and the sweet hint of someone’s perfume, but it is smell I have learned to love. The turf pebbles are what gives the field that burning rubber smell. The turf pebbles are always everywhere, in my hair, mouth guard, shin guards, and cleats but this is something else I have grown used to. The track around the turf is something I love and hate at the same time. We spend long hours there doing the hardest types of conditioning to make sure we are prepared for our next upcoming game. Falling on the turf is also not fun at all. The tuff pebbles cut through the skin of your knees and burn the newly opened flesh. This feeling is a familiar feeling to all field hockey players. The field is something I didn’t like when I was young but now, I love it and it will always be another home. The field hockey field is not for everyone, but it will always be for me.