Uprooted to Brooklyn, and Nourished by Cricket

It is good to hear that cricket is flourishing in New York's schools. They are heirs to an unexpected but great tradition. The first ever International Cricket Match - they weren't called Test Matches back then - was in 1844. On that occasion, a team from New York played Canada and won. Two years later, the first Cricket Match advertised as an official International was played in New York, and this time Canada won. I understand that New York is still a bastion of American Cricket
Anyway, I wish them well.

One small point for your Editorial Accuracy team; Cricket has Laws, not Rules.

RE: Michael Power- Sports of the Times- 10/16/16- It was interesting to read Michael Power's account of high school cricket teams competing in Marine Park Brooklyn.He writes about the Marine Park field as a rutted and crowded meadow where cricket teams were so tightly packed that the fielders from separate games overlapped one another.
This brought memories of my teenage years jostling for space in the Fifties as a center fielder with others when I competed in baseball not only in Marine Park but in the Parade Grounds adjacent to Prospect Park in Brooklyn.

This is America! An American story full of the vibrancy, dedication, hard work overcoming all obstacles, and good will, that immigrants bring to this country.

America is not the pathetic caricature Trump makes it out to be.

Nice story, but I hope for a reporter will find the time to write about girls' sports in such schools. They presumably are not exempt from Title IX.

An American story, in the best sense of ourselves, well-told. Thank you.

Thank you for this joyous and beautifully narrated exploration of cricket and youth. As a Europe-based young Australian woman, it made my heart sing. My grandfather instilled a love of cricket in my mother who passed down that fondness to me. She would take my older brother and I to the final day of a test match, bringing along a radio so we could listen to the all important commentary provided on the ABC. As a young girl, I would mostly come for the snacks my mother brought to get us through a whole day of sitting in the sun watching what can only be called a slow cooker game. Salmon and cream cheese sandwiches, dried apricots and hot tea from thermoses accompanied my memories of cricket into adulthood until it wasn't just the snacks that brought me to the games, but a genuine fondness for what cricket is about. The umpire's decision making communicated through sometimes obscene gesticulations. The regal all-white uniforms. The complex and slow-moving strategy that evolves and unwinds across the course of five days like the quest to create the perfect meal that balances sweet and sour; that rewards patience, elegance and dexterity. The spirit of the game, as you say, is difficult to encapsulate in words but it pervades the cultures of the countries where the sport is revered. It's a mixture of dignity, fairness, and easy-going camaraderie. If there's a game to bring nations and cultures together, it's cricket. I only wish more girls would be encouraged to play!

I needed an uplifting story this morning. Thank you!

Lovely story. One note, the Hebrew sign-off means "next year," as they used to say about the old Brooklyn Dodgers.

Ah yes, cricket... would that my kids could have played it here in Canada as I played it at their age in South Africa!
But Twenty20 is not cricket, not really; more of a baseball-like slug fest, made for busy spectators. 70 years ago we played the equivalent of one-day cricket, "ODI", a much more satisfying compromise atlernative to 5-day test matches.
By the way, the ball when bowled does is not required to bounce, it is just normal to do so, otherwise it's much easier to slug it out of the field of play.
Nice story, thanks. Cricket though exciting, is calming, values good behavior, and could be just the antidote your friendly country needs to counter your current fiery election season.

Thank you for this lovely and beautifully written story. If ever we needed to read something like this, it's right now.

Kudos to the participants and coaches, and also to the writer and the photographer for the breathtaking photos. How sly, keeping the crafts of journalism and photography alive and at their peak via a story about new life for kids and cricket. That's the way to do it, team!

In cricket the catcher is called the wicket keeper.

Again and again we are graced by the writing and warm spirit of a reporter that makes us want to live. He finds what matters. Either way he teaches us about ourselves and him.

Uprooted and nourished is the story for most all coming today, legally or not, but it was not that way for those uprooted and enslaved, right here in America. The family torn asunder, bought and sold, is still reeling, their culture forgotten.

Addiction is one window. None here. They are striving. Reaching. Trying. And playing.

Nation building is great, when it works. They come to build here. They come for better.

Some would have us slam the door. Hitler had nothing to commend him at thirty. Trump built. His dad built. They came from Eastern Europe. He's shopped there for his future. What would he do with these folks?

The Yazidis bring it all. But they are not a subset. They are their own. Shattered, they tell their story and ask. Offer.

We are still sought. May this always be the case.

Some would have us slam the door.

I'd suggest we open it wide and look for leadership among those that come to work.

Legacy brats rarely have what we need.

Time for new.

Welcome them. Fear is sick stuff.

Thank you, Michael Henry Powell.

You get it.

Thanks to the immigrants. Mine came over in 1860 or so. They or their parents spoke Russian, Yiddish, Polish, German and English. They were born in Boston, Newark, New Jersey, and Germany - and Russia or Poland. They were Jewish, Christian, and quite careless. They wanted to assimilate, to forget. Not one of them received an education worth spit. They did well. Very well. But it did not matter. Forgetting is not the way to go.

It takes a view of that which is different. America must find a way to educate these folks without crushing the spirit that brings them here.

Most flee poverty and dictatorships. Brooklyn is a melting pot. Getting more expensive. Those from Bangladesh flee arsenic in their wells. They do not speak about his. The English drilled and now they suffer. Testing is depressing. The intellect is affected. It is also lead there. The English used lead in short pipes.

Taxi drivers, waiters, entry level... and hard working. They are doing better than many of our home grown. They were never slaves in America. And they have retained a semblance of their culture. They are not exclusionary. They are not cult. They are polite.

Sport is a great mixer. Sportsmanship teaches all involved.

Hope they can keep money out of it.

Beautiful story of hope on many fronts, sports breaking down cultural barriers, sports keeping kids focused on the important things work ethic, team spirit and dreaming.

Great article
The coach sounds like a true leader...the team, school, and city are lucky to have him working wth these kids...

This type of cultural exchange breaks down barriers and brings cultures together. As a member of the United States Peace Corps, I have introduced American Baseball to my tiny island of Dominica. It has been met with the same type of enthusiasm described in this article. The world is a better place as a result.

Amidst all the rage, smut and hypocrisy polluting our culture, this article is a glorious ray of sunshine.

Kudos & the best to all...

Wonderful column!!!

Brooklyn International is a superb school, as are the 15 other schools in the network - public high schools that teach the life blood of the city - immigrants- "first round draft choices" who will be the future captains of industry and elected leaders of the next generation ..

The is good news in 2016