Last week, I spent a majority of my time wandering through the city as the pastel-ed leaves and petals slowly emerged in the city. Something about spring makes the world a little out of focus. (Maybe, it is the blurry eyes with all of mother nature's pollinating.)
The sun's warmth was extinguishing the slight winter chill that has been hanging onto the city like all the sweaters on the little dog brigades that shuffle by on their way to play in the dog parks. Tired of haunting the Lower East Side, I went over to Brooklyn to Williamsburg to check out the latest street art and graffiti. Frankly, this winter has left me a little more neighborhood bound than usual. So, I have not made the exodus to the industrial areas where windowless walls play a great backdrop for outsider and street artist to hone their techniques. And that is a shame because there is some great stuff to be found! (Look at the animated guard dog I passed only nights before on my way to a show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg.)
I got off the L train fully prepared for my urban art scavenger hunt. Instead, I was lured into the park by children's laughter and the crack of balls against aluminium bats. It seemed like a nice day to take off your shoes and feel the tender blades of grass between your toes and then just lie down a look at the clouds.
There were not enough clouds in the sky to keep me occupied so I watched the high school softball games going on. Come on softball is the xx version of America's national pastime!
What really caught my attention was the cheers the girls would shout to rally their teammates?
They were sassy and included hand claps and hip swivels. Nothing I have seen before for the normally bland game of softball. When I played softball back in high school in New Hampshire, I think we only had one cheer, "Go bananas, go-go bananas, go b-a-n-a-n-a-s. Go!" Pretty lame, in comparison!
I guess I not be overly surprised by this revelation. I went to a highly competitive college prep school in New Hampshire, the home of the white Grecian-columned, ivied boarding and prep schools built on academic tradition and sustained on entitlement. My team was so serious. Sports at my school were the end all and be all, especially when it came to soccer. Softball was kinda seen as the slow cousin of the soccer program.
All students were required to play on a sports team. It was important for our personal development to be the best (at everything). Sports, or should I say team sports, instilled the essential attributes necessary to be a productive and meaningful member of the society; the understanding of practice and sacrifice to obtain goals and be number one, the art of team work, and the ability work hard to strive for excellence. True, these attributes are desirous. However in their tireless push for us to be champions, we also lost the ability of just finding joy in participating in life no matter what the outcome or skill-level and understanding that playing should be about enjoyment and not pressure and fear. I wish we had the space to have performed silly cheers that entertained people while complimenting our genuine efforts to be a winning team rather than sit on the bench so stoically, occasionally shouting out a teammate's name to build up spirit.
It is funny looking back now, how much angst I felt every time I put on an uniform and entered a neatly manicured, white-lined field for any sport in high school. I like playing sports. I like be active. Why did I fret so much over a sport like softball when I knew I had no desire ever to move be on the recreational realm to the professional world. Is there even professional softball anyway? NESN is kinda a flyover channel on my tv programming route.
Whoa, where did this rant come from? I am actually enjoying the feel of the sun on my skin and the peaty smell of the earth below me. I guess it stems from my interlude with Sarah Silvermen's at her booking signing in Union Square. Her memoir touches on her feelings alienation and insecurity growing up and attending a high pressure school in New Hampshire, my school in fact. On reading some of her passages, I realized that I share some of her sentiments and anxieties too. You see she was a few years ahead of me at school but when the average grade size was about 30 people, you basically were friendly with everyone. Also for a time, I was her catcher and she was my pitcher on the school's softball team. (Sarah coined a special pitch called the "funny one." Let's just say it never left me sitting around!)
Well, I think I will just settle down and continue watching the game with my eyes closed. I will leave exploring the alleys and factories for art another day.
