There is nowhere like it. The newly placed green with small hints of black. The sun beading down and warming the surface to thirty degrees hotter than the air. They called it artificial but there was nothing fake about this field. The energy I put into it, the literal blood, sweat, and tears that I, so many of my peers, and even more before me left on it. Everyone who steps on this field immediately sports a game face. Everything about the game or performance is 100% serious. For as long as they are on the field they are no one’s friends. They are competitors. This field is all inclusive, whether your job is to hit, run, jump, throw, march, or even flip, this field will invite you. I love this place. I love the history and the friends I’ve made just by marching here. Of course, it wasn’t always comfortable. Those black pellets in your shoes would simulate walking on coals and good luck getting them out. Even after 5 years there are still pellets in my shoes from my freshman year. This is my favorite place. And even though I am no longer marching, I can still bestow what knowledge I have on younger marchers. This space will never change but it can easily change anyone who comes in contact with it.