You are currently browsing stories tagged with “Sports & Recreation.”
Every weekday and many weekend afternoons at around 12:30, I prepare a light lunch, sit down at the dining room table, and read The New York Times sports section. Which used to sort of surprise me, because I’m not that much of a sports fan. I go to a few baseball games a year. I’ve attended some of my younger [...]
We went into Calypso, on Madison Avenue and 69th Street. The first thing I noticed upon entering the store was a young woman paying for something at the register while she distractedly texted. Then, as she texted, she got an actual phone call. She picked up and announced her coordinates and her purchase, “A gray cashmere sweater!” And then a [...]
We always arrived at least a half hour early to the hot concrete schoolyard with its two sad hoops. There were loads of us, boys and girls from six to the teens, waiting for PS 154 vacation playground to open and its counselors to throw out the softballs and bats, the volleyballs and pink spaldeens for the games that would [...]
It was the first perfect day of spring; the air silky with warmth. People, like the daffodils, were blooming all over Washington Square Park: Bicyclists, street musicians, bag-lunchers, in-line skaters, mothers with strollers. Those who were just standing around, others who were walking—they flew into the air like handkerchiefs tossed by the breeze when the car hit them. I was [...]
please amend your story about The Fool of Abingdon Square Park. If you would like to be accurate about the facts mentioned in your story, please consider changing that Abingdon Square Park was restored under the auspices of the Greenstreets Program. It was actually funded by the city council in reaction to a petition delivered in 2001 by a trio [...]
We were three gay women surrounded by a ring of testosterone in an Irish pub in midtown. The Rangers were on TV playing the Sabres in the semifinals taking place down the street in Madison Square Garden. Grown men sat at the bar in team jackets and hats and cheered the onscreen action. Maybe they couldn’t get tickets--what was I [...]
Herald Square is not a good neighborhood in which to work. In fact, it’s not a neighborhood at all. It’s an area. On street level there is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Office buildings empty into crowds of slow-moving shoppers who move in and out of the oxymoronic Manhattan Mall. They move about at a bovine pace. They take [...]
The middle of May holds much promise for the North Fork surfcaster, or fly fisherman. By that time the striped bass have moved up into the shallow flats and bays around Orient and the water has warmed enough so that the bass have begun to feed with a good deal of purpose. In mid-May the bay waters are clear and [...]
If you find yourself awakened by an eccentric, foul-tempered neighbor called el Jefe in the hallway of an apartment building known for its vermin while fully installed with a vodka hangover and reeking of pizza-flavored snack treats, be as pleasant as possible. Especially if you are seeking assistance in the forcible entry of your own apartment. Especially if it is [...]
A.K. is as often used in mild, fond condescension as it is in derision: “Let him alone: He’s just an A.K.”...I make no special plea for alter kocker, but I certainly prefer A.K. to its English equivalent, “old fart.” –Leo Rosten, The Joys of Yiddish We arrive for our weekly game on Mercer near Houston Street, four players just shy [...]
During my second year of living in the city I almost drowned in despair. I refused to admit it to myself – and especially not to my nagging parents who regularly suggested I move home to California –but New York was crushing me. The city had delivered a series of blows, starting with a broken heart. My Greek borough-bred boyfriend, [...]
Last July, a friend of mine called to tip me off about an upcoming water gun assassination tournament. I was swamped at work when he called, crimping duvets for a big Neiman Marcus order—but seconds later I was on the tournament's website, reading the requirements for entry. By midnight I was in the back of a GMC Envoy, paying my [...]
175th Street, between Audubon and Saint Nicholas Avenues was the playing field for hundreds of boys each year, in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Anchored mid-block by Incarnation Grammar School, 175th Street was a four-car-wide, smoothly paved, level, treeless, usually-blocked-off-during-school-days street. The sidewalks were also wide and level, the street curbs sharp and unbroken, and the six floor apartment [...]
Sometimes I acquire personal training and kickboxing clients simply by correcting a stranger’s form. To put it bluntly, 90% of people in gyms are without a fuckin’ clue when it comes to proper training techniques. These folks can negotiate deals for zillions during the day at the office, yet they’re incapable of a quality bicep curl at night. Therefore, a [...]
The Mets are out of town. My childhood friend Jim wants to see a ballgame before he's tied up remodeling his Long Island house, which he estimates will take all of his free time May through October. He can't wait until the Amazins, his favorite team and mine, return from a trip to the West Coast and Atlanta, so it's [...]
Since my boyfriend, Alexis, injured his shoulder playing pick-up basketball, he’s been watching games from the sideline. Usually he’ll just stop for a couple of minutes, en route to wherever he—or we—are going. If a pick-up buddy says, “What’s up?” he’ll sometimes give them one of those street-hugs, where they grab each other’s hand and bump chests. Then Alexis will [...]
I hit the same bus every morning, Monday to Friday. It comes at 7:03 am. It doesn't matter whether I am running late or if I am ahead of schedule. I never miss this particular bus. To make it, I will sprint like my life depends on it; I will chase the bus two blocks to the next stop. I [...]
Day 1 One day in 1999, an item in the New York Daily News noted that Woody Harrelson is in town and on the lookout for good pickup basketball. Sure enough, the star of "White Men Can't Jump" showed up at my gym today for the daily lunchtime game. This was not my first brush with celebrity; in my somewhat [...]
At the beginning of February, the city was overrun by rabid sports fans. I went downtown about 9 days before the big foosball game. Streets were barricaded and blocked off. Downtown Detroit had a different type of buzz. Metro Detroiters were excited because so many people would be in town. Here in the Midwest, we suffer from big big city [...]
I was recently musing about my time as a trainer at Manhattan's most prestigious 1980's gym: The Vertical Club. The place was loaded with the beautiful people and the celebrities they yearned to be. A regular in the weight room was one Bruce Cutler, the late John Gotti's lawyer. The barrel chested Cutler was a popular figure in the trendy [...]
Well, Super Bowl Sunday is done, or so they tell me. I was oblivious to the hype and I had no idea that Super Bowl Sunday had arrived until Saturday night, when someone asked me where I was going to watch Super Bowl XL. I thought "XL" meant "Extra Large," a size that, over the years, I have come to [...]
Super Bowl XL was just a few days ago, and Detroit and its suburbs did their best to present a great image. Visitors did not see our homeless, as they were tucked away in various city and suburban warming centers or temporary shelters . . . Manna House, South Oakland Shelter, Most Holy Trinity Church, Salvation Army facilities, etc. In [...]
Basketball has always been my favorite sport to play. I guess that came from living in an urban environment and not always having money. If you had anywhere from 2 to 10 guys, all you needed was one ball and at least one basket. It was a little more complicated in the winter. Fortunately, a local junior high, 204, had [...]
Photo by Ricky Powell In the midst of the most un-ironic activity in the world--sports--Marv Albert is a burst of jazzy, sardonic, droll Brooklynese. Marv is all about cadence and inflection; his initial notoriety was based on the pronunciation of a single word--"Yes!"--drawn out and shaped like a piece of taffy. For 24 years he has called play-by-play for the [...]
Off Track Betting could be a Greyhound Bus Station at 4 am or a bar where I learned to play spoons. It could be a retiree’s living room. One, someone calls him Bobby, who possesses comfortable gems on his finger and windbreaker. I watch him scribble “faster” at the top of each race, not for the contenders but an incitement [...]
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