In the heyday of my high school soccer career, when I might have defined myself primarily as a “soccer player”, my soccer bag would have contained the following items. 

A pair of Adidas Samba indoor soccer shoes with their translucent tan, ornately patterned soles. Most likely I wore those to the game as my travel shoe, even if the event was outdoors on grass. They were my one admittedly conscious fashion choice. Other kids might wear Adidas slippers, but I didn’t care for the look. Adidas molded cleats. Their rolo candy shaped nubs gave good all around grip. I’d buy them half-size smaller than my shoe size every year, put them on and submerge my feet in water, to stretch. The tight fit was supposed to give me better ball feel and control. I probably should have just practiced more to achieve that. A pair of Puma brand screw-in cleats. They came with a hex wrench to install or replace the longer harder studs. They were for wet grass and soft turf, but imagining spiking someone made me feel tough. They were rarely used, but often fondled as part of the fall pre-game preparation. Shin guards with their pull-up stirrup ankle support, and plastic tongue depressor inserts, in case someone scraped me with their Puma screw-in cleats. Finally, a roll of cloth tape to hold up my socks. I’d pull the tough uniform cotton sock up over my knee and wrap a ring of tape around, just below the knee. A fold down of the sock to get a nice, crisp cuff. 

The small duffle itself was red canvas with white nylon strap handles. It contained the tools for each weather contingency and field condition, but it was more than a toolbag.

In retrospect, the bag embodied it’s own model world. It functioned as a Tardis or Wardrobe to Narnia, containing a space much larger than it’s mere dimension.  As I prepped the bag the night prior or opened it immediately before a game, it was a stadium in which I could travel in time, playing the game in miniature. Checking each item, another time each match, I enacted a ritual that cleaved a soccer game into what I could control, and what I could not. I could control only my feet and legs, and nothing beyond that. My teammates, my opponents, the weather might be modeled or influenced, but I could not command them. They were all beyond me. They were outside the bag.