Our fields of dreams are all heart

DO YOU remember your first kiss?

I do. I remember the butterflies in my stomach, the sweaty palms; eyes shut as I leaned in hoping not to miss her lips completely and make a total idiot of myself.

It was your typical awkward young teenager moment, after school one sunny afternoon at the place I spent most of my free time growing up — the local oval.

That young love affair didn’t last forever as I’d imagined it would on the giddy ride home afterwards, but my fondness for that oval has.

It was the setting of many such watershed moments in my life, and features prominently as the backdrop when I’m wandering down memory lane.

The local oval has always been a thriving community hub where ever I’ve lived.

The beating heart of ‘burbs around the country.

Where kids kick the ball and joggers run up a sweat. Where dogs chase tennis balls and grassroots sporting dreams are made. But it’s so much more, too. It’s where friendships are formed and memories forged. I still return to my childhood oval in Perth from time to time. It hasn’t changed a bit since that awkward first kiss. But I have. I’ve moved on. And now with my own family I’m creating new memories on a new oval on the other side of the country. I’m lucky enough to live right next to this one. I can see it from the house and its hum of activity has become the soundtrack to our weekends.

I knew it was my dream home from the moment I saw it. But it was the oval, rather than the house itself, that sold me.

I wanted my kids to have that same affinity with their local oval as I had growing up.

And while we’ve only been there for a few years, it has already been the scene of many unforgettable moments.

First kick of the footy. First ride without training wheels. First cricket game.

I’ll never have a first kiss again, but when it comes to my local oval there’s still plenty of firsts to embrace.