Clear skies, offering no protection from the sun. It was hot, in the high 80s, even though it was in the mountains. I could see the heat waves rising off the ground, blurring my vision of the field and the fence beyond it. The field was made of plastic turf, marked with bright white lines. Two teams on one sideline, spectators on the other. Players in the middle. They were yelling, cheering on their team, asking, helping, trying to score. The referee’s whistle cut through the hubbub, but only momentarily, as voices were soon raised in protest. I got ready to join in and lose myself among the heat, pain, sweat, and adrenaline that came with my participation.