Well, it was a great tourney at the Fight Club. Lots of great folks, lots of great games. Thanks everyone. Now for the rest of the story............ Left the Fight Club at 7:30. At 7:45 going north on the west side parkway at 95th street, we hit a pot hole. This was no ordinary pot hole but a Pot Hole that was tiger trap size. Right rear tire violently blows. Almost hit car on left, almost hit guard rail. Go 100', pull off. Both rear tires flat. Don't know why the left one was flat, probably out of sympathy for the right one. Call my AAA. On hold for 45 minutes. Get thru. Give all my info. They ask me where I am, I say Manhattan. They say, let me transfer you. 15 minute wait. Get AAA NY. Give them all my info. Tell them where we are. They say "NY Law does not allow us to service the Parkway. We will contact the NY State road crew and get back to you". Stroll up side of highway to see pot hole. big, real big, and deep. I can see why the left rear tire went flat out of sympathy. While waiting for tow truck. Man in Lincoln pulls up beside us. Right front tire destroyed. Parts of his car fell off. He was swearing in several different languages. Next, a family coming home from prayers shows up. Right front tire almost gone. Two older folks get out of the car, open the trunk, take bags. start walking into the city with a young woman. They leave this poor young guy in a suit there to deal. Tow truck shows up. Out pops Bob Marley. Love Bob Marley - the rainbow hat, the beard, the gold, the cough.... Bob is a Rastafarian. Looks and acts very impaired (lol). Car number four pulls past us. Very flat tire. Old man jumps out. Starts walking against traffic, very very upset. Goes up to our Bob, tells him to go fix his car first. We fix that. We got dibs on Bob. Old man storms back. Almost gets hit by a Yellow. The first (of many) Police cars arrive. Actually police van. Out pop two cops. one cop comes over to Bob, the other walks out onto the parkway and puts his hand up and stops traffic. The parkway north is now closed. More police show up. A lot more. A battle truck shows up. No kidding. This was a mobile army. Man gets out. Half finger leather gloves, bullett proof vest, flat top that is flat enough to balance a coin on it's side. He goes and talks to the LT. The first ambulance shows up. The old man had an old woman in the car, think she got pot hole whip lash. The FDNY show up. A ladder truck and a pump truck. Interesting. Then, out of no where, this cruiser comes screaming out 96th street, cuts across this dog walking park, slams on his breaks and slides up to us. Out steps Mr. Incredible. This guy was probably like a general or something. He has very shiney boots up to his knees, he has a 3/4 length leather jacket with his gun and grenade belt cinched at the waist, his hat is so perfect, you can barely see his eyes, he's about 7 feet tall. The only thing this guy was missing was a cape. The TV crew shows up. They start filming the road, the cars, the circus, Mr. Incredible, Bob, us, the old man. Bob has been attempting to lift the van up without success. All this time, Thomas is sitting there eating cookies, watching Matrix Revolutions while Bob lifts and lowers (repeatedly) the back of the van. Some thing happens during one of his many attempts, the van falls like 2 feet. Those poor rear tires are really dead now. The Lincoln man drives off without fixing his tire. makes real bad noises and things fall of his car. The young man from Church finishes putting on his donut tire and leaves with a smile and wave. The old man is still sitting there. OK, Bob has the back of the van up and secure. My Thomas and Tom Shea sit in the cab of the tow truck with Bob. I strap myself in the passenger seat. He pulls out. I am at like a 30 degree angle, going backwards with on coming traffic. We are swerving all over the place. I may die here. Bob does some kind of mad U turn and we are now heading south on the parkway to some 24 hr tire place. You got to love NYC baby. We are down on the lower west side. Bob parks the truck and dead van in the first lane cause there is a yellow getting it's tire fixed on the curb. Yea man, they have this gang of folks who work like a pit crew right on the street. Air gun, floor jacks, and large mallets. Tom Shea is paying Bob and talking to the Pit Boss. What pulls up? This giant flat bed truck with two passengers. Mercedes Benz service truck. Out comes a Vin Diesel look-alike and his Doll. Vin is angry and the Doll is on the cell phone. The wind is howling and blows her jacket and dress up. Ooops. I get out. I think Vin is gonna kill someone. Go into the Pit Boss Shop. Tom is negotiating the cash only tire repair. He has to go to McD's for the bathroom (none at the tire store), leaves me with cash and heads off. I start watching Ferris Beuller's Day Off in Spanish on the small television. Far out. Vin is on his first date with the Doll and is pretty angry. He lost two rear tires to a Punjab hole on 57th street. I look out. Bob is gone and thomas is sitting there watching Neo and Trinity, clueless in the first lane. I run out and pull the van up to the curb. I go back in. Vin's mad. They don't have his tires. The Doll is still on the cell. She goes out, and takes a picture phone pic of the store. They tell Vin that they have used lowrider tires that will fit his rims. I tell him, man, you got doe, get the tires and run with the Doll. He laughs. He says yes. The Pit Crew is in full gear on the Benz and the Van. Thomas and I go to McD's for a bio break and food. All the places around us are surrounded by razor wire. The wind is howling and all those junk newspaper machines are tumbling up the road like dixie cups. We get to McDs. Well, it was a gathering place for some very different folk. we do our thing and leave. Back at the Pit, we are ready to go. Vin asks how much, the guy says 180. Vin takes out a ROLL of 100's, peels two off and says take care. We shake hands and he is off with the Doll. We get in the van and start back on our way. In no less than 100', we hit a pot hole. We laugh, no damage. We are now going north on the parkway again and it is stop and go. starting at 32nd street. The right lane is closed up ahead. we make it up to 95/96 street and there is our Battle Cop's car and our Pot Hole. This thing was huge. The orange cone inside barely could be seen. The old man and woman are gone. Hope he didn't kill anyone. We drive 1/2 mile and it slows again. Accident. As we pull closer, we see Bob, our Rasta man, helping tow some poor folk. We smile and wave. We get home at 3:45. We make it to League by 1 pm on Sunday. I love Pokemon.