Bocci Lives On, and it is Good!
It was a beautiful sunny Sunday in June.*
A spur of the moment decision found me, Alissa, Kat, and a recently de-Galled** Mike crammed in the Truck, driving up the curvy, well-trafficed road on top of the Jersey Palisades, through the scenic towns of Weehawken and West New York, arriving midafternoon at the James J. Braddock North Hudson Park.***
We brought our own bocce balls and walked through the park which was shaking with activity of all sorts. It seemed like people had crawled out from every nook and alley of North Jersey to take advantage of such magnificant weather on this one in a million Sunday. There was volleyball and soccer, kids rolling in mud holes like piggies, and plenty of people charring up their favorite kosher weiners on $9.99 charcoal grills. The park is amazingly large and we anxiously followed Kat down the bustling paths under tall shady trees, till we spotted what we had come for:
BOCCE COURTS.
The bocce courts were certainly not being neglected on this amazing day, but according to Kat this was just the normal daily activity here. Of the 3 courts we saw in the distance, one was smaller, offset, and a little weedy. The other two were both in great shape. One was a little lumpy and littered, and the other one, currently the site of an intense gathering of old grizzled bocce lovers, was a testament to its daily use--immaculately cared for, without a twig or stone to rudely deflect a bocce ball's path.
And here we were! The other 2 courts sat empty, even though there were tons of bocce players standing around bs-ing and intently watching the game that was going on. Feeling a little undergunned and not sure if we were gonna be mocked out of the park in more than one European language, we strode up to the unused bocce court and dropped our balls. Slightly queerlooking K-mart balls.
We got a lot of very inquisitive looks.
Queerlooking balls aside, we were gonna enjoy this gorgeous day and get some Bocce on! We started to get the court together as best we could, removing sticks and twigs, picking up some stones. Actually, I think I sat on the bench, lit up a pipe and watched the scene, but Kat, Alissa and Gall-less got it together just fine. The old dudes pointed the way to a broom we could use once they saw we were actually sticking around.
And so, the bocce began. It was the first time any of us had played out on a big outdoor court like this. As any of you who have done so before know, its a different beastie. It took us a little while of looking retarded to get our shit together, but it wasn't too long before we were rolling some decent bocce. We started to play a game, to 15, cause that's what the score keeper went up to. We played by the familiar Floyd rules, except for the fact that we allowed plays off the back walls. Hey that's how the Croatians were doing it! When in North Bergen, do as the North Bergenionians do, er, or, uh, something.
So we played a game. Me and Alissa vs. Kat and the Mighty Missing Organ. I forget who won now,**** but it was a good game. A few of the old Italians and others started to notice us, and talk a little. Sometimes they volunteered suggestions or strategies, mostly with ambiguous gestures. Sometimes they let us know which ball was actually closer (they were't always right either!) or helped us measure distances with TV antennas or old yard sticks.
We decided to play another game, this time a battle of the Sexes!! One dapperly dressed and excitable Albanian fellow took special interest in this game as it progressed, especially loving that the ladies were schooling me and my inadequantly organed partner. And school us they did! The score was 7-2 and we were gonna quit and play a new game, so that we could politely assure them that they would have at least one game under their belt. However, they insisted on playing on to 15. While Mike's Gallbladder patiently waited for him in heaven we continued to play the game and our new Albanian friend took keen interest, especially in mocking my every throw. Too Long! or What kinda of wuss shot was that his animated gestures would say after each of my shots. Unfortunately, he was right, and I could only smile and nod. It was all in good fun of course, but me a Mike were playing like poop--not to underestimate how good Kat and Alissa were playing. They continued to trounce us. Mike and I repeated the mantra that our comeback was coming, but it never did, and the ladies scored 8 more points, ending the game 15-2.
It had been a great day and we were all pretty blown away by what a fun place this was to come play (or watch!) bocce. It was a blast to see all the bocce-regulars interact and insult each other. "You gonna need to eat some more spaghetti!!" There were many extremely good players with lots of amazing shots and pinpoint accuracy.
We were all pretty tired, especially Mike who seemed somewhat disoriented, like he had misplaced something. We started to pick up our stuff and were about to go when our Albanian spectator (let's call him Al from here on out), grabbed me by the shirt sleeve and feverishly motioned at the court. He wanted to show me how it was done! I accepted, of course, and the game commenced. Al was good, very good, and anxious to show me up. But I gave him a fight he did not expect, and what I am sure he thought would be a 5 minute shut-out turned into a long drawn out competition. He was up for awhile but I matched every shot of his with a better one and I creeped up to a lead of 9-6. I can't remember all of the details of the game other than that I was very relaxed, and everything was just going as well as it could have. It was really fun. Mike watched the game with a mixture of awe, and confusion, wondering why I couldn't have pulled off a single one of these shots in the previous game. Then he went back to fingering his gall-scars.
Al wasn't giving up, but I sensed a little fear. I played strong the rest of the game, but I started to lose some of my concentration and stamina toward the end. Al came back and we finished off the game 15-11. Al won. Nevertheless, that may have been one of the most fun bocce games I have ever played. It was too much! There were lots of smiles and laughs and handshakes, as we said goodbye and thanks to Al and the others. We headed back through the park, the sun getting low. I highly recommend a trip to the bocce courts at James Braddock North Hudson Park!
footnotes:
* Last Sunday
** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gall_bladder
*** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_J._Braddock
**** Probably because we lost??
A spur of the moment decision found me, Alissa, Kat, and a recently de-Galled** Mike crammed in the Truck, driving up the curvy, well-trafficed road on top of the Jersey Palisades, through the scenic towns of Weehawken and West New York, arriving midafternoon at the James J. Braddock North Hudson Park.***
We brought our own bocce balls and walked through the park which was shaking with activity of all sorts. It seemed like people had crawled out from every nook and alley of North Jersey to take advantage of such magnificant weather on this one in a million Sunday. There was volleyball and soccer, kids rolling in mud holes like piggies, and plenty of people charring up their favorite kosher weiners on $9.99 charcoal grills. The park is amazingly large and we anxiously followed Kat down the bustling paths under tall shady trees, till we spotted what we had come for:
BOCCE COURTS.
The bocce courts were certainly not being neglected on this amazing day, but according to Kat this was just the normal daily activity here. Of the 3 courts we saw in the distance, one was smaller, offset, and a little weedy. The other two were both in great shape. One was a little lumpy and littered, and the other one, currently the site of an intense gathering of old grizzled bocce lovers, was a testament to its daily use--immaculately cared for, without a twig or stone to rudely deflect a bocce ball's path.
And here we were! The other 2 courts sat empty, even though there were tons of bocce players standing around bs-ing and intently watching the game that was going on. Feeling a little undergunned and not sure if we were gonna be mocked out of the park in more than one European language, we strode up to the unused bocce court and dropped our balls. Slightly queerlooking K-mart balls.
We got a lot of very inquisitive looks.
Queerlooking balls aside, we were gonna enjoy this gorgeous day and get some Bocce on! We started to get the court together as best we could, removing sticks and twigs, picking up some stones. Actually, I think I sat on the bench, lit up a pipe and watched the scene, but Kat, Alissa and Gall-less got it together just fine. The old dudes pointed the way to a broom we could use once they saw we were actually sticking around.
And so, the bocce began. It was the first time any of us had played out on a big outdoor court like this. As any of you who have done so before know, its a different beastie. It took us a little while of looking retarded to get our shit together, but it wasn't too long before we were rolling some decent bocce. We started to play a game, to 15, cause that's what the score keeper went up to. We played by the familiar Floyd rules, except for the fact that we allowed plays off the back walls. Hey that's how the Croatians were doing it! When in North Bergen, do as the North Bergenionians do, er, or, uh, something.
So we played a game. Me and Alissa vs. Kat and the Mighty Missing Organ. I forget who won now,**** but it was a good game. A few of the old Italians and others started to notice us, and talk a little. Sometimes they volunteered suggestions or strategies, mostly with ambiguous gestures. Sometimes they let us know which ball was actually closer (they were't always right either!) or helped us measure distances with TV antennas or old yard sticks.
We decided to play another game, this time a battle of the Sexes!! One dapperly dressed and excitable Albanian fellow took special interest in this game as it progressed, especially loving that the ladies were schooling me and my inadequantly organed partner. And school us they did! The score was 7-2 and we were gonna quit and play a new game, so that we could politely assure them that they would have at least one game under their belt. However, they insisted on playing on to 15. While Mike's Gallbladder patiently waited for him in heaven we continued to play the game and our new Albanian friend took keen interest, especially in mocking my every throw. Too Long! or What kinda of wuss shot was that his animated gestures would say after each of my shots. Unfortunately, he was right, and I could only smile and nod. It was all in good fun of course, but me a Mike were playing like poop--not to underestimate how good Kat and Alissa were playing. They continued to trounce us. Mike and I repeated the mantra that our comeback was coming, but it never did, and the ladies scored 8 more points, ending the game 15-2.
It had been a great day and we were all pretty blown away by what a fun place this was to come play (or watch!) bocce. It was a blast to see all the bocce-regulars interact and insult each other. "You gonna need to eat some more spaghetti!!" There were many extremely good players with lots of amazing shots and pinpoint accuracy.
We were all pretty tired, especially Mike who seemed somewhat disoriented, like he had misplaced something. We started to pick up our stuff and were about to go when our Albanian spectator (let's call him Al from here on out), grabbed me by the shirt sleeve and feverishly motioned at the court. He wanted to show me how it was done! I accepted, of course, and the game commenced. Al was good, very good, and anxious to show me up. But I gave him a fight he did not expect, and what I am sure he thought would be a 5 minute shut-out turned into a long drawn out competition. He was up for awhile but I matched every shot of his with a better one and I creeped up to a lead of 9-6. I can't remember all of the details of the game other than that I was very relaxed, and everything was just going as well as it could have. It was really fun. Mike watched the game with a mixture of awe, and confusion, wondering why I couldn't have pulled off a single one of these shots in the previous game. Then he went back to fingering his gall-scars.
Al wasn't giving up, but I sensed a little fear. I played strong the rest of the game, but I started to lose some of my concentration and stamina toward the end. Al came back and we finished off the game 15-11. Al won. Nevertheless, that may have been one of the most fun bocce games I have ever played. It was too much! There were lots of smiles and laughs and handshakes, as we said goodbye and thanks to Al and the others. We headed back through the park, the sun getting low. I highly recommend a trip to the bocce courts at James Braddock North Hudson Park!
footnotes:
* Last Sunday
** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gall_bladder
*** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_J._Braddock
**** Probably because we lost??
posted by shanchuk at 2:10 PM
2 Comments:
Uh huh. Couple of notes here:
* Kat and Mike shellacked Johnnie and The Better Half 15-13. The score doesn't even begin to reflect the brutality of their defeat
* 15-2. Fuck. I blame my surgery. What's Shinehead's excuse? Yeah, I didn't think so.
* John was up 10-6 on Al the Albanian and lost 10-15, about 9 unanswered points. That's 9 with a capital 9. All of them were wished on him by me for bogarting his mad bocce skillz when we got our asses kicked by girls. In front of old European men. Who laughed at us.
* Gall is bitter--and there's no need for bitterness, friends. Toss that stupid organ out ASAP.
* It really was a beautiful day and the bocce courts were in amazingly great shape. Apparently, it never hurts to know your city councilman.
Sounds like fun! If you haven't checked out Turkey Terror's entyr on our local bocce courts you should check it out too...
http://www.balgavy.com/coffeeflatsterrors/
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