We were young, maybe 12 or so. It took place in my backyard, which more or less looked like it does in the waking world (I have a house in the suburbs on 1/3rd of an acre), L-shaped and large and grassy.
We were playing a game. On my team, I was the only girl, with two boys. But we knew what we were doing. It was an odd version of "capture the flag" in a way... I couldn't really explain it beyond that. But the point was to get the red balls from the other team. There were at least three teams.
Team One was doing rather badly... their "tent" -- homebase -- was poorly designed, and they were attacked by Team Two, who captured their small collection of red spheres. While the mean team, who was dominating the game and being absolute assholes about it, were gathering them, tormenting Team One, and so on, I looked at my co-Team Three members and smirked. Motioning, we ran over to Team Two's HUGE stash of red balls, and just started pulling the little wheelbarrow they had, scattering them all over the yard and smirking when we got back and had stolen them all.
Moral: If you're a poor winner, you lose your balls.