The City Game?

On the way in from the airport, late one night, my taxi lowered into the Manhattan landscape and came to a stop at a red light at Ninety-seventh Street, just off Second Avenue. There is a playground there, and when I looked out the window I saw a man shooting a basketball by himself. The court was a barren, lonely place at that hour, lit by some nearby streetlights, but his presence redeemed it. He was a heavy man, dressed in grey sweats, and, for a moment, I imagined that he was a...

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