NYC Fight Club

New York never disappoints. Something always happens to me there.  For example, the frequency with which I run into someone I know (e.g., former students) is, at once, both incredible and something I have come to expect. No other city hits you with that kind of yin and yang.

That’s why I say that New York is varsity and every place else — in America, anyway — is JV. Hey, I’ve got big love for Boston, Philly, San Francisco, Chicago, DC, and of course, Portland (the one on the Atlantic… “The City in Miniature,” baby!), but nothing bolsters my adrenaline like NYC.

Just a few weeks ago, I looked out my hotel window and saw this scene:

I wondered, What is this? Street Fight? More like a roof fight? A rehearsal for the upcoming Broadway revival of West Side Story?  Then I saw the gloves neatly lined up on the left side of the scene and it became clear that these guys were working out with a pre-planned repertoire. I watched them for a while.

 

They cut a memorable picture across the midtown Manhattan roof tops.

Legendary Yankee catcher Yogi Berra famously said, “You can observe a lot just by watching.”

Maybe he said that because he played in New York.

Onward, Malcolm Gauld