On Assaying, Collecting, and Documenting Fragments of Brick During a Game of Football on A Sunday at Lord Strathcona Elementary

I look down. Always. Even mid game, I am staring at the earth- marvelled by the beautiful rivulets that form. Of course this isn’t your average game of soccer. It is an inebriated extension of a long-standing tradition that has now turned inwards upon itself and which is now entirely dependent upon a cadre of individuals. The game is some sort of post-anarchist experiment started by some unknowable group of friends now since long dissipated. Not an absence of rules so as to abuse them, but to ensure the longevity of the game. No arguments. No fights. Just revelry and word association. You can even find weekly recaps of new inside jokes that the group shares and shouts during the game. 

In the winter the game is moved to a gravel pitch at the elementary. But what was here before? The legacy of raising the land to accommodate the pitch shows hints of returning to it’s former topography. In doing so, the streams have either revealed or deposited bright red shards of brick. Is this brick in the source material of the hard pack field? Or can one suppose these are the remnants of a brick building, perhaps associated with the school? Or, if the imagination is allowed, the pseudo-archeological remains of settlement?

The red dots indicate that a fragment of brick was found at that location. The small squares are sewer grates. The X indicates the quarrying of bricks, as seen in the second picture.