tentang cinta pertama
Aku mengenalnya semenjak aku berusia 5 tahun, tapi mulainya rasa itu ada ketika aku duduk di kelas 4 SD, semenjak itu aku merasa aneh, karena usiaku juga masih terbilang kanak2. Entah apa yang aku rasa saat itu, aku tak mengerti apa yang sedang terjadi kala itu, aku seperti orang yang tak tentu arah.
Saat aku sadari ternyata aku mulai suka, ya aku suka untuk yang pertama kali pada seseorang. Namun aku tak mampu melakukan apa yang ingin aku lakukan. Aku hanya mengaguminya dari kejauhan, aku hanya mampu melihat senyumnya dari sini dari tempatku duduk kala itu. Aku melihatnya tertawa dan melihat bermain bola di lapangan itu, apa lagi saat kita bermain dan kejar2an. Aku sungguh suka... Laki laki yang aku pandang terlihat tampan dengan gayanya yg khas dan aku suka itu. Matanya sangat indah, rambutnya yang agak kriting menambah getaran dalam dada ini. Huuuuh aku suka dia, benar-benar suka dia.
Rasa ini semakin hari semakin dalam. Setiap hari yang aku ingin hanya memandang wajahnya. Suatu hari aku melihat tatapan matanya, tatapan mata yang sangat sejuk. Yang mampu membuat jantung ini berdegup lebih cepat. Dan akhirnya aku mulai bisa dekat dgn dia, karena saat itu aku dukuk 1 bangku dengannya,1 minggu itu. sangat menyenangkan, aku merasa sangat bahagia.
Hingga suatu hari, apa yang aku takutkan terjadi, dia pergi. Pergi tanpa pesan terakhir. Kini, hanya ada aku dan kenangan itu. Aku hanya mampu mengingatnya, mengingat semua senyumnya dan tatapan indah itu. Aku berjalan gontai sambil meneteskan air mata, air mata kehilangan. Dia, takkan pernah tau betapa sakitnya aku saat itu, saat dia pergi dariku. Aku tak mampu berkata apapun, aku hanya menangis dalam diam, menyesali semuanya. Aku mencoba tegar, aku mencoba terus untuk menutup luka ini, luka yang kau beri. Aku mencoba bahagia dgn apa yg aku milikki saat itu. Aku mencoba bertahan dgn senyumanku.
"Yaa Allah, jaga dia selama dia jauh dari sisiku". Dan saat itu aku mulai sadar, inilah cinta pertamaku. Di dalam penantianku, ada seorang pria datang dgn membawa sejuta cinta. Aku masih ingin diam, dan diam menunggu cintaku kembali dalam pelukku. Namun kehadirannya membuat aku tertawa seperti dulu, tetapi sungguh dalam hati ini masih ada nama cinta pertamaku. Aku hanya mampu tertawa sesaat saja, setelah itu kembali menangis dalam diamku, dalam penantianku. Untuk sementara waktu, sakitku terobati oleh kehadirannya di dalam sepiku. Namun hanya sementara dan setelah itu kami berpisah...klik di sini untuk kelanjutan nya .
by yandre pramana putra
Hockey is not exactly known as a city game, but played on roller skates, it once held sway as the sport of choice in many New York neighborhoods.
“City kids had no rinks, no ice, but they would do anything to play hockey,” said Edward Moffett, former director of the Long Island City Y.M.C.A. Roller Hockey League, in Queens, whose games were played in city playgrounds going back to the 1940s.
From the 1960s through the 1980s, the league had more than 60 teams, he said. Players included the Mullen brothers of Hell’s Kitchen and Dan Dorion of Astoria, Queens, who would later play on ice for the National Hockey League.
One street legend from the heyday of New York roller hockey was Craig Allen, who lived in the Woodside Houses projects and became one of the city’s hardest hitters and top scorers.
“Craig was a warrior, one of the best roller hockey players in the city in the ’70s,” said Dave Garmendia, 60, a retired New York police officer who grew up playing with Mr. Allen. “His teammates loved him and his opponents feared him.”
Young Craig took up hockey on the streets of Queens in the 1960s, playing pickup games between sewer covers, wearing steel-wheeled skates clamped onto school shoes and using a roll of electrical tape as the puck.
His skill and ferocity drew attention, Mr. Garmendia said, but so did his skin color. He was black, in a sport made up almost entirely by white players.
“Roller hockey was a white kid’s game, plain and simple, but Craig broke the color barrier,” Mr. Garmendia said. “We used to say Craig did more for race relations than the N.A.A.C.P.”
Mr. Allen went on to coach and referee roller hockey in New York before moving several years ago to South Carolina. But he continued to organize an annual alumni game at Dutch Kills Playground in Long Island City, the same site that held the local championship games.
The reunion this year was on Saturday, but Mr. Allen never made it. On April 26, just before boarding the bus to New York, he died of an asthma attack at age 61.
Word of his death spread rapidly among hundreds of his old hockey colleagues who resolved to continue with the event, now renamed the Craig Allen Memorial Roller Hockey Reunion.
The turnout on Saturday was the largest ever, with players pulling on their old equipment, choosing sides and taking once again to the rink of cracked blacktop with faded lines and circles. They wore no helmets, although one player wore a fedora.
Another, Vinnie Juliano, 77, of Long Island City, wore his hearing aids, along with his 50-year-old taped-up quads, or four-wheeled skates with a leather boot. Many players here never converted to in-line skates, and neither did Mr. Allen, whose photograph appeared on a poster hanging behind the players’ bench.
“I’m seeing people walking by wondering why all these rusty, grizzly old guys are here playing hockey,” one player, Tommy Dominguez, said. “We’re here for Craig, and let me tell you, these old guys still play hard.”
Everyone seemed to have a Craig Allen story, from his earliest teams at Public School 151 to the Bryant Rangers, the Woodside Wings, the Woodside Blues and more.
Mr. Allen, who became a yellow-cab driver, was always recruiting new talent. He gained the nickname Cabby for his habit of stopping at playgrounds all over the city to scout players.
Teams were organized around neighborhoods and churches, and often sponsored by local bars. Mr. Allen, for one, played for bars, including Garry Owen’s and on the Fiddler’s Green Jokers team in Inwood, Manhattan.
Play was tough and fights were frequent.
“We were basically street gangs on skates,” said Steve Rogg, 56, a mail clerk who grew up in Jackson Heights, Queens, and who on Saturday wore his Riedell Classic quads from 1972. “If another team caught up with you the night before a game, they tossed you a beating so you couldn’t play the next day.”
Mr. Garmendia said Mr. Allen’s skin color provoked many fights.
“When we’d go to some ignorant neighborhoods, a lot of players would use slurs,” Mr. Garmendia said, recalling a game in Ozone Park, Queens, where local fans parked motorcycles in a lineup next to the blacktop and taunted Mr. Allen. Mr. Garmendia said he checked a player into the motorcycles, “and the bikes went down like dominoes, which started a serious brawl.”
A group of fans at a game in Brooklyn once stuck a pole through the rink fence as Mr. Allen skated by and broke his jaw, Mr. Garmendia said, adding that carloads of reinforcements soon arrived to defend Mr. Allen.
And at another racially incited brawl, the police responded with six patrol cars and a helicopter.
Before play began on Saturday, the players gathered at center rink to honor Mr. Allen. Billy Barnwell, 59, of Woodside, recalled once how an all-white, all-star squad snubbed Mr. Allen by playing him third string. He scored seven goals in the first game and made first string immediately.
“He’d always hear racial stuff before the game, and I’d ask him, ‘How do you put up with that?’” Mr. Barnwell recalled. “Craig would say, ‘We’ll take care of it,’ and by the end of the game, he’d win guys over. They’d say, ‘This guy’s good.’” Tribute for a Roller Hockey Warrior