May 19th, 2006

Soccer in the park

I was walking through Rittenhouse Square on my way home from work a couple nights ago. There were a couple guys kicking a soccer ball back and forth, and doing tricks like keeping it from hitting the ground for as long as possible. One of them drop-kicked it, but it went horribly off-course and headed right for me.

I caught it with my in-step after its first bounce, kicked it up, and then kicked it right back, hardly breaking my stride. "Hey, thanks!" one of the guys said.

I was amused, in part, at the thought of an anonymous business casual guy in black wingtips playing soccer. I was also sort of impressed: how the heck did that happen exactly like I pictured it in my mind? And why could I never accomplish that when, say, I was actually playing soccer?

This morning there was a light rain, and people looked pretty miserable. I passed a tall man carrying a little girl on his shoulders. She was holding on to his balding head for balance. She was giggling and he was smiling. I imagined giving them high-fives. It was a little bit of sunshine to start the day.