One bright autumn day at the age of around nine or ten years old, I was walking down Avenue T on my way towards Marine Park when I spotted a group of barrel chested older men with graying hair standing in the middle of Coyle Street.
They were playing a game that at the time I barely recognized – stickball. It was a term I had certainly heard of, and vaguely knew about but never experienced first hand. After asking a few people, I was told that it was old-timers day or something to that effect. While never a big sports fan, I was still fascinated with this mysterious game – one that had fallen out of favor in the decade or so before my birth.