Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Now That's the New York City Experience

Ok, so I had two firsts yesterday. I went to a Knicks game and someone tried to pickpocket me. These were unrelated events, even though the second one happened while I was on my way to the first one.

Here’s the sitch. That was supposed to be short for situation, but I guess it doesn’t really translate well from spoken English to text. I think it’s the extra letters you need. Oh well, it’s not important. But anyway, I was getting off the uptown 6 train to transfer to the shuttle to Times Square to transfer again to the downtown 1 train in an unnecessarily complicated way of avoiding being rained upon.

Walking sucks.

Anyway, I was walking past a crowded group of commuters and tourists, when I felt the slightest of jiggles from my backpack. I’m no stranger to being jostled in and around subways, but this one wasn’t your normal rush hour crowding push. It felt like it was pretending to be, though. Sort of a “whoops, man this crowd is terrible look what it’s making me continue to do.” Basically, my spidey sense was tingling.

Pixelated and alarmed.

So I quickly reached back, grabbed my bag and turned around, to see a heavyset Hispanic man intentionally looking away. His hands were chest height, holding an mp3 player as a convenient alibi for having his hands directly in front of him and in my backpack. I fixed him with a glare as he sidestepped deftly into a subway car which I was not going to board.

Upon review of my backpack, the zipper on the small pocket had been pulled open enough for a thieving, smelly gypsy bastard to slip his hand inside. A quick inventory showed that I had reacted quickly enough and none of my stuff had been taken. Granted, I had nothing of any intrinsic value in that pocket, but he might have gotten away with some free samples of Axe shower gel and a few burned CDs. Still, it was an enlightening experience that whetted my desire to see some good old-fashioned vigilante justice take place in the subways.

The Punisher - tough on criminals, tougher on audiences.

The moral of the story, kids – don’t leave anything valuable in outer pockets of your bags. Also, never get near to another human being, ever. However, if you happen to live shoulder-to-shoulder with 8 million other people… well, just be careful.

On to the Knicks!

I guess Knickerbockers is just too many letters... but I like the sound of it.

I managed to snag two tickets at a discounted rate through my place of work. I decided to do this because I’ve never been to Madison Square Garden before, and I figured it would be a good time. Here’s a paraphrased conversation between my father and I regarding the game:

Me: I have tickets to a Knicks game on Monday

Mr. Rev: Really? Who are they playing?

Me: Utah.

Mr. Rev: I dare you to name one player on either of those teams.

Me: Ummm… There’s uh… you know, that guy. The tall one.

Mr. Rev: Oh yeah, him. He’s good.

And scene.

So the plan was for Oach to fly into the city and then meet up with me at MSG. However, his flight was cancelled, and then his backup flight was cancelled, and so at the time of this writing I have absolutely no idea where he is, or when he’s scheduled to be anywhere.

Anyhow, that prompted a flurry of emails and ultimately I attended the game with this person, I’ll refer to her as Moe, for this reason:

This is her in costume as Moe from the Nickelodeon show GUTS. I very nearly posted her as a candy corn witch, but I’ll make you people do some research to see that (it’s worth it).

Moe knows possibly less about the sport of basketball than I do, but we had a fantastic time. For a large chunk of time I was confused as to why the scoreboard was referring to the quarters of the game as ‘periods’ until I smacked myself in the head and remembered that the Rangers use that scoreboard as well.

The game itself was very exciting. We sat near a very loud group of cheering people who had cowbells and handed out free Snapple inflatable Thunderstix. I may never go back to clapping again. They’re colorful, they make a distinctive sound and they’re ridiculously phallic. Hours of entertainment.

At one point, the man sitting next to Moe mentioned something about the Stix that I didn’t hear. One of Moe’s thunderstix was leaking air through a puncture, and so, over the roar of the crowd, she shouted back “MINE HAS A HOLE IN IT AND IT’S GETTING LIMP!” After several seconds, she reviewed that sentence in her head and became understandably embarrassed. I don’t think the man minded, though.

Our heroes the Knicks held onto a lead throughout the game, though several times Utah pulled within 2. The crowd was on its feet and banging its thunderstix (limp and otherwise) together as New York went on to their second win after an embarrassing 8 game losing streak. Moe and I are converts to the cause of professional basketball, and I suspect I’ll be going back the next time I can get my hands on some cheap tickets.

Well, I’ve rambled on long enough. I’ll catch you folks later.




  1. bettcha still can't name two players from either team

  2. My cousin Jamie is "Director of Basketball Administration" for the Knicks, whatever that means. All I know is that he gets free stuff and once woke up on Patrick Ewing's couch being addressed as "little man" by the 7 foot tall basketball legend.

    (Mathews men are not genetically predisposed to pro basketball, in the vertical sense.)


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