The 2 train jerked away from the 72nd Street station and an empty soda bottle rolled along the car. Everyone lifted their feet and it missed a half-eaten hotdog, a wadded up newspaper, two coffee cups and all four center poles. It banged against the conductors door and sat there as the train rumbled down the Westside of Manhattan.
The train braked hard going into Times Square and the bottle rolled back. About halfway through the car a man dropped into perfect fielding position, scooped it up and made a phantom throw to first base.
“Nice play,” someone said. “You’re as smooth as Robinson Cano.”
“Thanks,” the man said. “I’m just warming up.”
“So when does the game start?” someone asked.
The man shook his head and said:
“Not for about five months.”
I followed over from the Justice blog. There is a nice mix here. Baseball, life, the city. Pretty cool.
I must be too self-absorbed on the subway since I miss all of these interesting people. Glad I can read about them here.
upper deck view,
You may just get there too late. The best stories ride the train before 7:00 a.m.
Having said that, you get all characters @ all hours. I was recently treated to a rant by some guy on the 6 who claims to be some kind of earth angel...
excellent..who would i have thought i would miss something about the NYC Subway, but moments like that are priceless...as you can guess, the trains here are sardine-packed and silent, everyone lost in their cell-phones or manga..
Raf,
There are a lot of people living in this city so you have to figure there’s at least one earth angel. I like the magician who works on the 4, 5 and 6 line. He has doves and rabbits and everything.