Flashes of Panic

Leaving out scattered dog-walkers, the biggest organized use of the park across our street is softball. The lit fields are in use pretty much all year, from “warm enough” to “too dark.” The softball players come from all over, take up all available street parking, and often hang around drinking beer and setting off fireworks when their games are over.

Next comes soccer. Our neighborhood has a large Brazilian population, and I frequently see massive pick-up games going on, generally using portable goals about the size of a lacrosse net.

Sometimes there is a crew playing flag football in a season roughly corresponding to the NFL season. They play on Sunday mornings, rain or shine, and tend to rip up the tuft a lot when it’s “rain.” Also, the local Catholic school doesn’t have fields of its own, so they use a corner of this park as a practice field every fall, rendering it essentially barren by Thanksgiving.

Last Sunday, though, and again this morning, there has been a small group playing cricket out in the middle of the field. For some reason, this tickles me immensely.

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