I’ve led soccer teams onto interesting playing grounds.
Our club teams play by railroad tracks. Elise and Marie played on a sunk-down field. It’s like a pit Fred Flintstone dug with his brontosaurus. Our tournaments happen at a place called Mazeppa Park. And we played an entire season on a field of mowed down corn.
The creepiest, hand down: The field by a cemetery.
We’re not talking way over yonder. We’re talking, don’t back up from the sideline without looking. There’s a headstone behind you. Grave markers came in handy on errant balls on that side of the field. Turns out soccer balls bounce back nicely off slabs of marble.