October 14, 2021

A man in a grey tank-top with navy cargo shorts, sixties ––– with white hair, wearing in-line skates, a helmet, shoulder pads and knee pads, was practicing yesterday between the basketball courts of Dewitt Clinton Park. He had lined up at least thirty-five very small orange cones, north to south, alongside the court. Methodically, moment-by-moment, he’d place one foot in front of the other, and together, like magic, his feet would weave in between the cones as he’d move down the line ––– forward and then backwards, forward and then backwards, forward and then backwards, again and again. It’s always a treat to watch such precision and focus up close.