Over the summer, the schoolyard on Rivington Street has been playing host to some kind of sports league. When I walk past, I’ll often see teams of mostly young adults playing a game whose rules appear to be those of baseball, but which is played with a large inflated ball like a soccer ball. The games are competitive but courteous; when one player does something particularly skillful, everyone applauds politely.
When I walked past tonight, the game was going on as usual, but with one minor difference: the players on one team were all dressed as mimes, complete with berets, white greasepaint, and black uniforms with white suspenders.
When I told M. about it, she said
“And this is why we live in New York.”