Kip says he is a great friend of Allen Iverson, and that was thanks to him (and not the sponsors) that "The Answer" has agreed to take on Stephon Marbury on the concrete green or red in Harlem.
Legend or truth, no one can know, the fact is that a spring afternoon at the intersection of 155th Street el'8th Avenue, in the most legendary playground in the world does not forget easily.
First things first. The impact with the real Harlem, north of 110th Street that is, despite the proclamations of reclamation and residential devastating. The subway stop is 155th Street, orange line B or D (the latter only daily) towards Uptown, Harlem's last stop before crossing the river and into the Bronx. Just go down, I see that all the underground station there is no one in any of the four platforms in both directions, and immediately a feeling of uneasiness, in spite of myself, gets to me. Unperturbed path, up the stairs, I'm on 155th Street. Behind me palaces dorm-brown everywhere, the infamous Polo Grounds, where he grew up Jamal Mashburn, while on the road there are dozens of people, men, women, children, families, vendors, workers, homeless , all African-Americans.
is one thing to go to the Rucker Tournament or the Rucker Pro League, another is to go on a Wednesday any afternoon, the atmosphere is a little different. I try, I look around, even a hundred meters away along the Fredrick Douglass Boulevard, the name of upper Central Park 8th Avenue, but I do not see even the shadow of a white man, a Chinese or Hispanic.
It is not easy for me to blend in, so I choose the hard line, walking with trying to make the decision face sullen. I just cross the road and I am already in front of the green tag attached to the wire, "Holcombe Rucker Park" in memory of Holcombe Rucker, the founder and organizer of the summer tournament became the tournament par excellence. The Rucker Tournament every year throughout the summer, is the main events street basketball, and more. Many
NBA champions and personalities at the American hip-hop rap usually go to the pitch of Harlem, the traditional center of the basketball world and the U.S. African-American culture of the third millennium.
are about half past three in any one afternoon, and at Rucker Park are the two already half way full, it pulls in only one, there seems to be hankering for the game, the other to play a three against three. Few people are stepped on or sideline watching, and I, all alone, I stand next to the mid-field where there's three against three. They are good and the athletic ballers , the most representative is a character on two meters, with the sweat pants cut at the groin, but only in the right leg.
There is also a girl, with the coat of Ken Griffey Jr. of the Cincinnati Reds from fulminant first step to the right hand but with a square of the distance. Ends the first challenge, and as usual I get to do a couple of shots between games. I'm there for a while, but nobody passes the ball to a basket symbolic. That's fine, never mind, there is also this, if the playground of Samba in Ferrara is a new, more with his face sullen, certainly not the lies the red carpet, let alone in the playground and most famous important world. I sit back and look carefully they restart the match in as I try to enjoy every moment at Rucker.
look that hard court that since 1950, which dates from the first Rucker Park Tournament (not a date certain, other sources cite dates prior to the premiere of the Tournament), I shudder at the thought of the evolution of The Goat, Black Jesus, Lew Alcindor, The Destroyer, Doctor J, Connie Hawkins, Allen Iverson, Tiny Archibald, Jamal Tinsley, Stephon Marbury and so on.
I come abruptly awakened by the heaviness of the eyes are upon me, coming from the field where the practice match is over, and also from the opposite sideline, where a bunch of kids staring at me constantly. I have not seen knives or other weapons around, so I am convinced that the situation is under control. On the field there's sharp words, addressed to me: "Play the cop." Cut the guy with the suit told me to go on the field. Cop?! Me?! I'm not a cop!
A brilliant film of the eighties, "The yellow color of the yellow bin," had a character who, whenever he saw the cops, he turned towards the camera and saying: "I hate cops!" I hate cops. That is my position on law enforcement, and should be regarded cop is certainly gratifying. I put aside thoughts of the film's exhilarating and slip back into the reality of Harlem, very tense. I get up and go under the basket, where there ' huddle of players, and protest, in a firm voice but with a string of (alleged) irony, trying to appear as safe as possible for me: "I'm not a cop."
The type of suit, looking upward toward the iron constantly and pulling the ball in the basket from below, he says, at an incredible pace, "You're a cop, you're here by yourself, you're a cop. Play ball, man "and the hard face gives me the ball in his hand without looking.
Without the control of speech, because of embarrassment mixed with fear that comes over me, the first words that come out of the mouth are: "I'm not a cop man, I'm a musician. "
At that moment all the other players explode into a huge and noisy laughter, making me feel for a moment Jerry Seinfeld (comedian number one New York comedian).
We remain of the stone, the I cut guy with the suit shows his big grin and says, "Yeah man, you're a musician and ...", it gives me a spoon to five, making me understand that (not) and I believe that it is not known because I had passed some sort of test. amazed and unaware of what really happened during those interminable seconds, the ball is delivered to me for shooting from three, which assigns the first possession.
Daniele Vecchi, Playground in New York
who follows me closely will have noticed that for some 'time in this part not only read manga. It is about two years, I also am passionate to graphic novels, comics or novels. I approached this world through my insanely popular (XD) Neil Gaiman, who even before he became famous for his novels in prose it became for his graphic novels. Needless to say that his were the first I've read and loved, but slowly I discovered other authors and other graphic novels interesting and I fell in love. Among these is certainly Bone of Jeff Smith, who, being one of my favorite series seems perfect for officially inaugurate the category of my blog dedicated to this kind of comic. 
Bone was born in 1991 in black and white, just like a manga, but to celebrate its tenth anniversary was colored and today we can read it in this beautiful version from the following books published by Panini Comics: 
Princess Rose is always Jeff Smith, but this time the drawings are of my beloved Charles Vess (for those not familiar I spoke 
Remember Makoto Shinkai ? I spoke to him and his works about a year ago in this post: 