Catch In the Subway

Our Junior Correspondent, Seth, gets in touch with his childish side for this report on how one kid can change the dynamic of an entire subway car, at least for a little while.

On a recent Friday, I got on the 3 train at 125th street. The car was mostly empty, but quickly filled up as we sped farther downtown. Commuters in business casual attire started filing in at 96th street. By 72nd street, the car was crowded with tourists as well as college kids ready for a night of drinking.

A black child with corn rows, no older than 5 or 6, sat beside his mother near the doors. He had a bright orange ball in his hand, the size of a softball. After looking at her for approval, he started to toss the ball up and down, but the combination of a poor throwing arm and a ton of subway obstacles caused the ball to go spiraling away from him each time.

On any other day of the week, this would most likely enrage half the subway car. Tired men in business suits would have scowled at the boy and his mother for interrupting their long commute; couples would think his playfulness cute at first, but the noisy kid and his intrusive ball would slowly eat away at them until someone would whisper too loudly that the kid needed to be controlled, and the mother would grab him and leave at the next stop. But not on Friday, with the weekend and all its possibilities within arm's reach.

One by one, everyone within 10 feet of the boy found themselves playing catch with him. It started with an older man in a polo shirt sitting in the next seat. Each time the boy tossed the ball up, the man would try to intercept it and, if successful, would then try to fake the boy out. Then the game spread. The boy threw the ball at a man leaning against the pole, who looked like an Abercrombie Model. Good looking people don't always have good reflexes but this guy did. Pretty soon, he was fully engaged in the game of catch, flashing a smile so white it made the subway car look clean.

The game kept spreading outward, to a college couple across the aisle. The man seemed shy but each time he caught the ball, he grinned at his sharp nosed girl and she stared proudly back at him. Another middle aged man stared longingly at the game, perhaps wanting to get back to his own son to play, perhaps just eager to get involved in these subway antics. After a long while, the ball finally approached him and he fumbled it, dropping it to the floor. He tossed it back quickly and resumed watching.

The game raged on for several subway stops. Everyone in the car watched and clapped whenever the boy made a catch, and laughed when he dropped the ball, like a room full of amused parents. But the game did not spread to everyone. The ball hit a black man once in the head and once on the shoulder. He had a cap pulled low over his eyes and refused to acknowledge either incident. The ball wizzed by two girls absorbed with their cell phones, even though their phones had no signals underground. The ball landed in front of a man with his eyes closed, head back, listening to his iPod. He did not budge.

Finally, the boy and his mother got out at 34th street. The rest of the game's star players exited over the next couple stops and the subway car gradually quieted down, everyone now ready and waiting to arrive at their destinations.