The Cage  

The sun is beating relentlessly on my back as I turn on to West 4th.

I hear raised voices, laughter and the pounding of rubber bouncing repetitively on the baked, scuffed concrete. Hands push and pull, legs sprint and the players wipe their exhausted, sweat-soaked faces.

A display of ego, friendship, hierarchy and compassion, all contained within the fenced court.