Concurso 2022 "El orgullo local del baloncesto"
Sarah Delano Roosevelt Park in the Lower East Side
Categoria: Local Basketball Pride
United States of America
The first time I visited Sarah Delano Roosevelt courts in the Lower East Side, there was a homeless man having a mental episode at the court furthest from the street. He paced at half court with a cracked two-by-four in his hand that had nails protruding from it. He shouted at an invisible enemy and he would smack the board against the pavement causing a loud crack like someone snapping their skateboard. Ten feet from this man’s rampage was a three on three game on the same court where he paced. In fact, nearly all the courts had half court games going. Some with children barely in their teens. Some clearly had parents present. The games seemed undisturbed. In fact, there was an impenetrable joy adjacent to the intense rage. I took photos of the games, but I kept the homeless man out of view.
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Titre:
Sarah Delano Roosevelt Park in the Lower East Side
Sarah Delano Roosevelt Park in the Lower East Side
Auteur:
Blake Gillespie
Blake Gillespie
Category:
Local Basketball Pride
Local Basketball Pride
Description:
The first time I visited Sarah Delano Roosevelt courts in the Lower East Side, there was a homeless man having a mental episode at the court furthest from the street. He paced at half court with a cracked two-by-four in his hand that had nails protruding from it. He shouted at an invisible enemy and he would smack the board against the pavement causing a loud crack like someone snapping their skateboard. Ten feet from this man’s rampage was a three on three game on the same court where he paced. In fact, nearly all the courts had half court games going. Some with children barely in their teens. Some clearly had parents present. The games seemed undisturbed. In fact, there was an impenetrable joy adjacent to the intense rage. I took photos of the games, but I kept the homeless man out of view.
The first time I visited Sarah Delano Roosevelt courts in the Lower East Side, there was a homeless man having a mental episode at the court furthest from the street. He paced at half court with a cracked two-by-four in his hand that had nails protruding from it. He shouted at an invisible enemy and he would smack the board against the pavement causing a loud crack like someone snapping their skateboard. Ten feet from this man’s rampage was a three on three game on the same court where he paced. In fact, nearly all the courts had half court games going. Some with children barely in their teens. Some clearly had parents present. The games seemed undisturbed. In fact, there was an impenetrable joy adjacent to the intense rage. I took photos of the games, but I kept the homeless man out of view.