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CONTAINER DIARIES

~ By Steve Finamore

CONTAINER DIARIES

Category Archives: Church Avenue

YOU STOLE MY HEART AND THAT’S WHAT REALLY HURTS

21 Tuesday Apr 2015

Posted by Steve in Church Avenue, East 5th Street, Friends, Maria, Parkside

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

16th street, 9th avenue, Bar, Brooklyn, Daily News, F-Train

Monday night.

April 21…

You remember Maria, right?

Well there she goes, right over there.

She looks great. Always smiling.

She’s walking alone, going right by Farrell’s, towards the park. There’s a a few guys on the corner of 16th street checking her out.  Tight jeans. White sneakers. Denim jacket.

cropped-cropped-cropped-front-of-farrells-pat-feenton.jpg

Damn!

What’s crazy is my boy Tony was asking about her the other night. “Whatever happened to that Hispanic chick from Church Avenue?”

For once, I was speechless.

What the fuck did happen to her? It was probably me that fucked up. After we hung out that night in the park I told her I was going to meet her at East 5th the next night; I never made it.

Shit, I gotta catch up to her.  I throw my bottle of coke in the trash can.Tuck my newspaper in my back pocket.

Gotta tell ya, I think about her often. Matter of fact, I could be in bed late at night and she’s the only thing on my mind. I think of her even when I am with my girlfriend. Yeah I know, that’s pretty shitty of me. I know. If my girlfriend ever knew I was with her…oh boy I would be fucked.

But I gotta be honest with you. I will never forget that night we hung out in the park. Maria is an amazing kisser. Nothing lasts forever, right? Beautiful girls don’t come around often. Besides, I think I’m in love with my girl.

Jetting across ninth avenue, I call out to Maria.

“Hey, wait up!” She looks over her left shoulder and says hi.

“Where ya’ been?” I ask.

“Oh I’ve been around.”

I stop dead in my tracks, looking around.

“After that night we hung in the park I never saw you again,” I tell her.

“I’ve been busy.”

She’s been busy?

“And you stood me up,” she tells me.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

“And besides, me and my boyfriend got back together,” she informs me as she lets out a giggle.

I am standing still on the corner, right outside Oak park pharmacy. I knew I should have went down to East 5th to meet her.  I fucked up.

“Oh, okay,” I say to Maria as she looks over towards the circle.

Guess I really blew this one… I have no idea what to say next.

This is where I always fuck up. I’m awful with words. I clam up. Wish I knew what to say in times like this. I’m not very good at expressing my feelings.

She’s fucking gorgeous and I threw it all away.

A few of of my friends are walking towards us.

“Red, what’s up?” Johnny G asks.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, we’re going to the city,” he informs me as he looks at Maria.

We’ve been doing this a lot lately. Back in August we met some kids at Brighton Beach who were from the city. We became friends, started playing ball and now we hang out over there once or twice a week. They’re cool people.

They begin to walk towards the subway, I watch him, Mickey and Kevin walk down the stairs.

“You going?” Maria asks.

I am standing there frozen. Still thinking of Maria’s boyfriend.

“Yeah probably,” I answer.

“Okay well have fun,” Maria says as she jogs over to the circle.

I watch her run. She has amazing legs. Maria goes straight for some tall guy. They hug. I feel like an idiot. Dejected and feeling like shit, I walk to the subway, jog down the stairs and catch up to my friends.

“Yo, wait up!” I scream out.

We’re headed over to the city. As I sit on the F-train, I can’t take my mind off Maria.

–Red

Hoops135@hotmail.com

MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR

27 Tuesday Jan 2015

Posted by Steve in Brooklyn, Church Avenue, Container Diaries, Prospect Park, School

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Basketball, Holy Name

Tuesday night

January 27, 1978

It’s a little after nine.

I have until ten to get some shots up before a priest throws me out of the yard.

It’s getting colder by the minute.

But I don’t care.

People are walking by the yard looking at me like I’m crazy. It snowed earlier tonight so there’s a little snow on the court. I dribble around it. If I had a shovel I would scoop it up and toss it to the side.

All of a sudden, I see someone walk in.

Holy shit. It’s her!

Haven’t seen her in three weeks.

What is she doing here?

It’s a school night. Well for her it is, not me.

She lives way down on Church Avenue.

She must have taken the F-train two stops.

“Hey!”

I act like I don’t she her.

“Hey Red!”

Finally I glance over towards the entrance of the yard.

“Oh hi, how you doing?”

I take a couple of dribbles then shoot a back shot from the right corner. While I release the ball, I take a quick peek over at her. My coach always said to keep my eyes on the goal.

“I knew you would be here,” Maria says as she gets closer to the court.

I don’t respond.

What the hell is she doing here?

“You been here long?” Maria asks.

“Since about eight,” I respond.

“Eight? WOW!” she answers in amazement.

I see those snow white teeth.

“Ain’t you freezing?” she asks.

The moon is shining down and I can see her beautiful eyes sparkling.

“How was school today?” she asks.

“It was okay,” I answer. Damn she asks a lot of questions. But I love her voice. It’s soft and sweet.

I take a few jump shots as Maria stands under the basket rebounding and passing it back to me. She’s a good passer.

“Meet any new friends at school?”

Maria has no idea I stopped going to school.

“Nah.”

I take a few more shots. Then without warning I dribble down court towards the church wall and pull up for a long jumper.

“Hey, you don’t like me or something?” Maria shouts from the other end of the court.

All I can do is look down at her and admire how good she looks.

She is wearing jeans, black boots and a black coat.

Maria jogs down to my end and starts to play defense. Just like she did at East 5th street a few weeks ago.

I stand there with the ball and watch her.

“Come on Red, try to score.”

I shake my head and dribble past her to the basket, making a lay-up with ease.

Looking back at her she’s standing by the foul-line.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Maria says.

I’m thinking it’s getting close to ten. The priests will be throwing us out soon.

Fuck.

She’ll probably leave and then I won’t see her for another three weeks.

“You wanna go over to the park?” Maria asks.

I stop dribbling.

I don’t even think about shooting.

“The park? Sure,” I answer.

We walk out of the schoolyard and head down Howard Place.

-Red

Hoops135@hotmail.com

CAN YOU FEEL THE BEAT?

02 Friday Jan 2015

Posted by Steve in Church Avenue, East 5th Street, Prospect Avenue

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Basketball, Church Avenue, Howard place, I.H.M., Manhattan Beach, Schoolyard, Wild Irish Rose, Windsor Place

Friday night.

January 2, 1978

It’s a little after nine and man it’s freezing outside… but I don’t care.

I stayed in all day yesterday watching college football. You know, the Bowl games; Cotton, Orange, Rose and Sugar. I was tempted to place a few bets but the bookie down on fifth avenue would laugh at me. I’m only 15. Sorry, I can’t mention him by name; don’t wanna get pinched.

In all honesty, I was hung-over from all the drinking we did on New Year’s Eve. I know, I know. I can hear you know. You’re drinking at fifteen?

Yeah, we drink, handle it.

You ever try Wild Irish Rose?

That shit is amazing.

Ninty-nine cents a bottle.

Not gonna tell you how many bottles I drank, so don’t bother asking.

To make matters worse, my girlfriend is pissed at me. Not sure what I did though. Come to think of it, she’s always pissed at me.

So I grab my basketball and head to the schoolyard.

“About time you get your ass out of this house!” My mother says to me as I walk past her in the living room.

“Yeah, Happy New Year to you too…”

Mom has been getting on my case lately.

Heading out of our apartment, I cross ninth avenue and walk down Windsor Place. Hanging a right at Howard Place I dribble the ball through my legs. No one dribbles the ball like me. I don’t have gloves on either. My fingers are cold.

Howard Place is a quiet block. I’m sure someone is pissed at me for making noise. The sound of the bouncing ball is probably annoying. Who cares!

Entering the yard I walk straight to the first basket and start to shoot. I start in close.

After the third shot a priest from the second floor window of the rectory screams, “GET OUT OF THE SCHOOLYARD!”

Damn it, I’m screwed now.

I’m always getting tossed out of the yard at night. It’s bullshit if you ask me. It’s nine o’clock for crying out loud.

But hold up. I know where I can go and no one will bother me. Good-bye Father.

East 5th street park is a hike, but fuck it. It beats going home and having to listen to my mother.

I head down Prospect Avenue and walk over the bridge. As I walk into the playground I hear a few kids messing around over by the swings. Probably a few teens from I.H.M.

Believe it or not, there’s a lot of kids down here I know; we play ball against each other often. But it’s too dark to see who’s on the swings. They leave me alone.

No one is out on the court. I have it all to myself. What do you expect, it’s ten at night. Only someone crazy like me would be out here where it’s like twenty degrees. There’s a little snow on the ground too. But that doesn’t bother me.

As I take a few shots, I notice someone walking into the park.

I zoom in on them and see that it’s a girl.

Holy shit.

She starts to walk over towards me, right onto the court.

Wonder what she wants?

Maybe she’s lost?

Maybe she thinks I’m someone else?

I’m nervous. She looks to be about my age.

“Hi,” she says.

“How you doin’?” I respond.

“I’m good, what’s your name?” she asks.

“Steve, but my friends call me Red.”

“Red huh?”

“Yeah, Red.”

“I’m Maria.”

It’s an awkward moment, her standing there and me holding the ball. What do I say next?

Wonder if she plays ball?

Wonder what she wants?

The street light and the moon shining down on us lights up the park.

She’s short with dark hair. She’s wearing jeans and a pair of high top black, Chuck Taylor all-stars. She has a  black coat, and a scarf.

“You play ball?” I ask.

She laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“Me, play ball?”

“Yeah what’s wrong with that?”

“Look how short I am!”

I look her up and down.

I have to say, she may be short but she’s gorgeous.

East 5th is a spot I visit often. Gotta be honest, I’ve never seen her before.

“You live around here?” I ask.

“Nah, I live down on Church Avenue,” she replies.

“What brings you around here?” I ask.

“Why, you writing a book?”

She laughs and reaches for the basketball, knocking it away from me. The ball rolls over by the fence. Maria chases it, picks it up and starts to dribble.

“D-up,” she says.

D-up? Holy shit, I think she does play. Either that or she watches a lot of ball. 

I stand still watching her.

She’s cute with a beautiful smile. Her eyes are sparkling. She seems so happy, so full of spirit.

But hold up, I can just see her boyfriend pulling up in a car, running out and punching my lights out for talking to her. Pretty girls like Maria have a man.

Next thing I know Maria throws up a shot towards the rim.

The ball goes over the backboard.

“OOPS…” she says in a shy manner.

There’s no way she plays ball with a shot like that I think to myself.

“Nice shot,” I tell her. I’m messing with her.

I walk after the ball and retrieve it.

As I walk back on to the court Maria gets up close to me and attempts to play defense.

“Wanna play one-on-one?” she asks.

I’m so close to her I can smell her perfume.

“Sure,” I answer.

I give up my dribble and pass her the ball. I’m probably getting myself into deep shit.

“Your ball first.”

Maria smiles. God her smile is unbelievable! Her teeth are so white.

She dribbles around the top of the key. I’m a bit reluctant to get close to her, I keep looking over towards the street. With my luck someone will pull up, I can just feel it. Last summer down at Manhattan Beach I met this really pretty girl and she had a boyfriend. He got pissed at me and we got into a big fight right on the basketball court.

That’s one thing I am staying clear of; girls who have guys.

I should ask her if she has a boyfriend.

I’m not a fighter. I play ball and hang out.

Maria starts to drive in towards the basket. She double dribbles. I don’t say anything. She has so much enthusiasm. Plus, I’m not a referee.

As Maria gets close to the goal she misses the lay-up.

“Brick!” I say teasingly.

I rebound the ball, dribble out to the foul line and take a jump- shot. It swishes. But there’s no net on the rim.

Maria chases the ball down.

We go back and forth for the next five minutes.

This feels like a dream.

Very little is said between us but she’s so playful. My girlfriend never wants to play one-on-one.

I keep looking over at the street. You know what I’m thinking, right?

Someone please wake me up.

Maria seems to be out of breath.

“I need a break,” she says.

Watching her walk over to the benches, I shoot a left-handed layup high off the backboard.

My eyes glance at her butt.

Holy shit!

She sits down while I get up a few more shots.

“Hey Red, come over here.”

I know I shouldn’t but I pick up my ball and start to walk over to the bench where Maria is sitting. These are the same benches we hang out on during the summer when we play pick up ball. East 5th has a great run in the summer. Some of the best players around come here to play ball. Never thought I’d be sitting here at night, with a pretty girl.

What I should do is be polite. Say something like:

Maria, it’s been a pleasure meeting you but I gotta go now.

Walk out the park, head back over the bridge and back up the hill to my neighborhood.

Instead I walk over and sit across from her. I put the ball down by my feet. I turn over my right shoulder looking through the fence for a car or a guy to show up.

My heart is racing…

 

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