The smell of freshly cut green grass that motivates me like anyone else. Everything stops when I walk on the field. I can't remember a single worry that might have plagued me. School, work, friends, and stress all seem to fade from my mind after my cleats first graze the lush green beneath them. The normality of it all should seem meaningless, but instead it empowers me. While I look at the field. All I can remember are the victories, as if they were happening right before my eyes for the millionth time. This is where I come to find my inner peace. This is where I can be myself, playing football. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay My goal is the most important thing when I take the field. The goal that makes or breaks the match is in our hands or theirs. The goal is worn by age and the countless shots that have been taken on it over the years. The paint on the field fades, the green begins to turn brown. Even though I have played in every possible position, my place is right in front of the goal. Protecting that eight by twenty-four rectangle is what my team is counting on me to do. The eighteen-foot rectangle just in front of the door defines the boundaries with a line painted white. I can hear every voice cheering me on from the stands, especially my mother's voice; that I can always pick out from the crowd. The voices encourage me, try to educate me, and sometimes even get frustrated with me. The scoreboard, the only judge of the game, stands tall at the end of the field and shades me and my teammates. When you execute this noose-shaped death trap, you have to go around it at least four times before you can say that they have accomplished something of some value and significance; that's a whole mile. The hateful benches sit at the edge of the pitch and mock me for every mistake I make; because I know that any mistake I make has the power to put me in its cold, merciless clutches, where I might have to spend the rest of the game. The cold, cruel metal is the only place on the field I truly detest. And while I respect and admire the football field almost in its entirety, there is nothing I despise more than the prison that is the bench. Prisoners are locked up after making a mistake of some kind and are then forced to remain behind bars depending on how fatal their mistake was. The prisoners are then involuntarily forced to watch those who were once their equals, playing in the vast green ocean of freedom. Although they can do nothing but watch and try to be supportive, they eagerly wait to come out and join others in the limitless and far-reaching green ocean symbolized by the grass field. Please note: this is just an example. Get a custom paper now from our expert writers. Get a Custom Essay Camp is the one place where I feel most comfortable and happy with myself. Its grandeur energizes and lights up my spirit and provokes in me a light-heartedness that only it can bring out. To a simple passer-by it may seem like nothing more than a patch of grass and a couple of battered and withered goal posts, but to me it is much more. In conclusion of this essay I can say that football is a sanctuary for me, a therapist for my problems, a shoulder to cry on on my bad days and a best friend when I have no one to turn to..