It’s amazing how some things just don’t bother kids. The last few days in many parts of the country have been scorching hot, and in New York City a heat emergency was implemented with several outdoor events canceled. This brought back memories of growing up in the city during 1970s, which included several heat waves and one major power outage that darkened the entire area. Somehow kids are almost oblivious to the weather conditions as long as they’re engaged in an activity they enjoy, though I still felt bad watching the footage of all those kids lined up to get into one of the city’s swimming pools earlier today. And when we played basketball during a heat wave back then, our plastic sneakers could have melted and we’d have barely noticed.
We were at the age when having the older kids come and run us off the court was a legitimate concern, as well as a near-certainty. But on those scorching hot days of 95 degrees and higher, even the teenagers weren’t quite as eager to come out in bunches and chase us away. And if they were, they’d certainly shorten the games. Every neighborhood had its customs, and on our block the older kids would run full court games until one team reached 120 points, switching baskets when one team hit 60. But not during a heat wave.
These shortened games — if they took place at all — gave us an opportunity to get some game action in, but not without worry. Instead of running us off the basketball courts, someone would take a wrench and illegally open up a fire hydrant—or “Johnny Pump”, as we’d call it—then tossing random kids in front of it where the water was coming out full blast. And those of us on those asphalt courts were not out of danger. Even though the heat was rising from the court surface and parts of it appeared to be buckling from the heat, it was no fun being dragged by hands and feet and tossed in front of water gushing from a hydrant.
We played in all types of weather. We moved snow off the court after a storm, We’d play in a driving rain. We’d play with ice and slush on the court. But as long as we weren’t forcibly removed, playing during a heat wave was our one opportunity to play without elements affecting the playing surface. It was just a matter of how much heat we could endure. There was even a sprinkler adjacent to the court, so if the heat was an issue we could just run through the water a couple of times to cool off.
In our neighborhood back then you could count the folks who had air conditioning in their apartments on one hand, and once the temperature reached a certain level those giant box fans we all had were just redistributing the hot air. Whether we went outside and played ball or stayed indoors, the heat was winning. And we’d play for hours with infrequent breaks, anyway.
When we got a bit older and the parental curfews were lifted, we’d wait until the sun went down and venture two blocks east to some courts in another housing development that were lit all hours of the night. We wouldn’t have to deal with ultraviolets but the humidity was still a factor. We’d stop at a corner store, grab some sugar-laced beverage, then proceed to the courts. At the risk of disturbing the local residents, we’d run full-court games until two or three in the morning under the lights.
I often wonder if those courts are still lit after dusk.
There was absolutely no thought given to playing hoops this past weekend, with the heat index hovering around 110 degrees and temps already in the mid-80s at the time we’d normally play. Al and I briefly discussed playing some Saturday morning hoops, but this was before the forecast of a heat wave became official. Neither one of us called the other on Saturday morning. As long as we’ve known each other, we didn’t have to. And after taking a quick walk around the corner to run an errand, I’m not sure how anyone played ball or did anything strenuous for more than a few minutes in those temperatures. The Yankees played a couple of afternoon games over the weekend and folks sat in the sun for hours. I guess this heightened level of heat intolerance is what happens when we’re no longer kids.
It looks like the area outdoor summer leagues went on as usual this weekend, but most of the participants are in their twenties and thirties so they can still handle the conditions. As recently as five years ago I might have made a run for some early morning ball outdoors, but with sixty lurking around the corner, now’s not the time to succumb to peer pressure. Too many things can happen. Whether in shape or not and with or without a medical checkup, guys my age try to outduel the undefeated sun, putting themselves at risk for no reason.
In these parts, it’s only a matter of days before the temperatures moderate, anyway. If we can’t find a cool indoor gym for some ball, it’s better to wait that thing out. Enjoy family, friends or solitude until temperatures moderate.
Then unleash that pent up energy and do some real damage on the court.
From mid-range, of course.
Photo by Simon Bowles on Unsplash
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