His aim of each ball was precise and the power of his throw broke the plates one after another–CRASH, CRASH, CRASH, CRASH. A perfect sequence.The sounds from the game booth resounded over the screams of delight and terror from the rides, and caught my attention. The prowess of the tall, young man won him a large plush SpongeBob doll. He displayed no bravado. He smiled shyly, taking the prize in his hands, while his friends applauded. It was a hot Saturday in Coney Island. Luna Park, the ocean, and sea breezes, attracted a crowd of all ages.

A woman, pushing a stroller with a young child inside, approached the young man holding SpongeBob and said, “Excuse me, would you mind doing that again? I’d like a doll for my baby. I’ll pay for it of course.” He paused for a moment, then agreed. He was handed four balls. He looked a little ill at ease, but focused. Although one may have argued that the stakes were not high, the sense of expectation was palpable. He threw a ball. It missed. Then CRASH, CRASH. And another miss. He quietly accepted a small green frog and passed it on to the woman. She said with a smile, “Oh, thank you. That’s nice.”

She was giving her child the frog, when the young man handed her SpongeBob. “Here, take this instead.”