From the outside a lot of people seem to see New York as a trial; a crucible that burns people up and renders them as gelatin in its heated wake. They forget that on occasion, when it has a mind to, it can lift you up.

Take today…stuck in the office from seven in the morning until ten thirty at night. Finally stepping into the night air, with the sun down and only a few hours until my plane leaves to flutter me off to labors distant. The subway entrances I generally use closed. The streets emptied, save a few trash collectors…more than enough room for a little bit of sad.

Instead, I notice a few spot lights in the air. Wandering far more south than I generally walk, I end up at Bryant Park, where I see no less than the Yankees leading the Detroit Tigers, current holders of the best record in baseball, six to nothing in the bottom of the ninth on a huge screen propped up against the library. Around three hundred are picnicking, watching as Mussina tries to throw for the final three outs for his complete game.

He gets the first out, then allows a base runner on a throwing error by A-rod. The second out comes quickly off a pop up, but, the third out doesn’t come so easy. The forth batter up in the bottom of the ninth flips in a single, scoring Detroit’s only run, and ruining Moose’s shut out.

Knowing the man has thrown almost one hundred pitches, Torre starts to amble out of the dugout to hand the ball to Rivera.

And then…

Mussina looks to the dugout to see an emerging Torre and yells…”No! You Stay There!”

The look on Joe Torre’s face…the expression on the Skipper, as he shielded himself with his hands and pleaded apology, stumbling back down the stairs, was nothing less than priceless. Possibly the cutest thing Joe Torre has ever done. Priceless…absolutely priceless. Same for the third grader giggles Joe shared with the Pitching Coach, and the laughter from the assembled masses.

Moose struck the next batter out, and took home his complete game without a single earned run, and Bryant cheered him.

Never would have seen it, if work hadn’t run so late…

Toss a hipster doing Tai Chi in McCarren park at midnight and you’ve got a good end to the day.

Thanks, New York. Occasionally, you’re good to me.