Ahhh, the City That Never Sleeps. The Big Apple. The Empire City. Gotham. The Capital of the World. What greater a place to spend time than New York City. As an urban palace that brings the world’s trannys, tourists and business tycoons of all realms together under one 3-mile sky, it’s no wonder Manhattan has so many unique and often opaque nicknames. It is, after all, about as predictable as a caffeinated Energizer Bunny on rollerblades and is, therefore, not able to adhere to one single label. Whatever you want to call it, the only thing predictable about our own New York City is the promise that whenever our squad spends down-time there, we will always come out with a lot of laughs and at least one truly unique story to tell. The laughs this week are many and that story is more a lesson learned ... the hard way, of course. But, I’ll get to that.
As is a standard for at least a handful of players during days off, a few of us headed in to the city to spend a bit of time away from soccer. Spontaneous day trips there usually involve allowing the city to happen to us rather than planning anything. We might go down the stairs of HAO’s (Heather O’Reilly) Manhattan apartment for a little yoga, a trip to a coffee shop, grab a bite to eat, do a little shopping, to stalk Carrie Bradshaw’s house ... or simply form The Total Packages - our new Sky Blue FC band.
The Total Packages wasn’t a planned thing. It emerged as fate would have it. I mean, we really couldn’t help that the team is exploding with musical talent. Tasha Kai, Karen Bardsley, Heather O’Reilly, India Trotter, myself - and I’m sure a few I’m missing - all have guitars. With that, we had no choice but to try to harness this gift. We are planning our first big show (you could call it a world-tour, but I don’t want to brag) this summer. For a sneak peak of skills, click on the Video of the Month page of this blog.
After the jam session, why wouldn’t we just go rent bikes on a random Tuesday evening? Believe it or not, the strange part of this isn’t the actual decision to rent bikes 25 minutes before the street-side shop closed so we could get in a random pedal through the streets of lower Manhattan. I more question why Kacey White, India Trotter and myself thought it was the greatest idea since slap bracelets to point out and actually select the sickest one-speed bikes the place had to offer for our sunset cycle (HAO was the only intelligent one to choose a bike not fit for a clown). So, in the same moment we hopped aboard our bikes Wicked Witch of the West-style, we also made the unanimous decision to make a break for Brooklyn Bridge. With only 25 minutes to get there and back, we tossed to the curb the idea of taking a leisurely romp through the city in exchange for the more goal-oriented, high-speed pursuit for that famous bridge. (Check out a few pictures on the Photo page of the site).
With a brand-new view of New York forever in the memory bank, we eventually made it back from the bridge in one piece (and nearly on time) ... but lost a fatigued India a few times along the way. “My thighs! My thighs!” was our cue to turn around and make sure we still had her behind us. Perhaps we should have told her to rethink her decision to partner with a bike that put her in a position similar to that of a Hotwheels bike from the 1980’s. Her quads have since recovered and we made it back to the bike stand without having to pay extra for our slight tardiness.
I have learned a few lessons and one very useful fact through our adventures. It’s no secret that New York City obviously has endless means of entertainment. The important thing to consider is this: While gallivanting about the city, beware of the signs. They aren’t always what they seem.
In fact, you should assume all signs are talking to you directly. Moreover, they all mean you should immediately stop doing what ever it is you’re doing - eating, walking, talking, picking up trash, standing still, running and especially parking. It seems New York has secret and cryptic lingo for its no parking zones. Either that, or Karen, India and myself are the only people on earth that had no idea what “No Standing” means. I thought it meant no loitering. No no. No. It not only means no parking. I’ve since learned it actually means no sneezing, no holding hands, no chasing waterfalls, no breathing, no being alive - unless you wish to be towed, of course ... which we were.
After capping the night off at a lovely Thai restaurant down the street, we were ready to make the drive back to our own beds. The very moment I finished mentally patting us all on the back for finding such a great parking space, I chuckled at Karen’s joke: “Well, we probably got towed.” My smile quickly turned to confusion when I realized that I was actually standing ON the car. If it were still where we left it. To make a long story short, the trip to the impound made for a long night. Our driver, K.B. (Karen), handled it like the champ she is and, $280 later, we were on our way home. So much for saving money by driving in.
After waiting what felt like half the night for our car, calling New York the City that Never Sleeps took on a whole new meaning. Additionally, I now have my own nickname for it. In lieu of the big crap the city took on us, I’d rather refer to the Big Apple as the Big Crapple. I suppose the truth is, some of us always need to learn the hard way.
