ONE DAY IN NEW YORK: JUST MY IMAGINATION

It took 27 years for the New York Knicks to finally reach the 2026 NBA Finals. The borough of Manhattan has become the place to be, thanks to them making it so far. My home. The mecca of sports, as some say. To me, I just wished I could be there, wearing a throwback Patrick Ewing jersey, matching shorts, a fitted ballcap and a pair of all-white Air Force Ones.

I would take a stroll through the East River Park and watch the squirrels as they scampered up and down a tree. Joggers raced by me. Others would be like me, just enjoying a sunny day in New York. I would use the bridge to cross the highway, since passing motorists would be heading home or to work. Arms behind my back, I'm going to the East Village.

The walk would be a stretch for my aging legs, but there are too many eye-catching sights to take in--and the aromas of the exotic foods only New York can make were salivating. I would buy a slice of pizza and sprinkle garlic powder on top of it and get a house drink, probably a fruity one that I would slurp down through a straw.

Normally, I would hit the weed spot, but I'm beyond that now: I'm high on life, and since I am, I'm taking in my city after 28 years. I thought I would be intrigued with a cellphone, but since I've been out in the world again, I desire to have my eyes forward, looking ahead. Still, being free, someone in my family would call. Hmm, quite possibly my oldest brother, Chris.

You see, after 28 years of incarceration, we had a breakthrough in our relationship. So much so that he's calling. Here's how I see it going:

"What's up, big brother?" This is my voice.

"Manny. How you doing out there?"

"Amazing. I'm eating a slice of New York pizza--in New York."

"Where'd you get it from?"

"Some spot on Houston Street."

"Nah, you should have gone to Momma's Pizza on Avenue D."

"Next time."

"You definitely have a next time. You're free. This is a real blessing from God."

We would continue on the path for a while, and it's a good thing, because I made it to Washington Square Park. You know the park I Am Legend made famous in the Will Smith movie. Yeah, I'm there, strolling past the gigantic water fountain where people were leisurely sitting around. Some had Vape pens, smoking liquid flavored tobacco. I'm taking snapshots with my cellphone, so I can send them to my friends still in prison.

The noises of the city were deafening. People were everywhere, and none of them saw me as 1168104 (my state number). They're oblivious of me, but I, no. Their fashion sense grabbed me.

I have never been into fashion. I wore--well, you can read what I decided on wearing my first day out and about. Still, now I'm looking at shoes with spikes, hats with peacock feathers and tattered shirts that cost hundreds of dollars. I'm fantasizing about the Knicks and sneakers. Hello, I'm the definition of old school. Maybe I'll go viral when I eat a hot dog.

Yeah, they--the young brothers in my old housing unit--shared with me that eating a hot dog was considered weird now. Honestly, I'm intrigued to see if I head down to Coney Island and eat at Nathan's and see if there are millennials outside hiding with their smartphones, waiting to take pictures. Yeah, maybe I should. Nah, that's just being silly.

I stepped into the East Village and the sidewalks were packed with pedestrians. I heard so many stories of men coming out of prison and having anxiety attacks from being in crowds. Me, I'm lost in the sauce. Well, and I have EarPods.

Music makes me high. I found Spotify on my cellphone and now I have nothing but Conway The Machine playing. A brother from Buffalo, New York. Shoot, since I'm from LES (Lower East Side), why not blast some of Tru Life's music? Yeah, why not be nostalgic? The song I'm playing is Naked, featuring Tory Lanez and Don Q. I had it on repeat while I descended the steps, heading into a subway station.

I'm below ground and I'm seeing homeless people everywhere. This is crazy, and it stinks as I swipe my MetroCard and mosey through the turnstile. I picked the platform heading uptown. The train came, and I stepped inside my first compartment in 28 years. A few eyes glanced my way as I checked out my seat and planted myself on it. The doors slithered shut, and we headed into the darkened tunnel. Conversations weren't on the menu as faces were focused on the screens of the cellphones and tablets. It's like everything around them wasn't important. Weird.

I reached 34th Street Station. The doors opened and I stepped off. My all white sneakers on the platform, and I'm sending them towards the staircase. I'm climbing it with other commuters. The sounds above can't touch my ears as I'm still being entranced by music from Tru Life's lyrical prowess as the sun crept below, escorting me back up top.

When I'm above ground, congestion has made its presence known as I'm being bumped into. Instinctively, I touched my wallet since pickpockets were a reality in these streets...but that evaporated as my eyes found Madison Square Garden. The home of the New York Knicks.

A tear trickled down my cheek. Freedom. I have it and the best of it all was that I'm back in my city. I removed the EarPods and the sounds of my city danced around me. A white man walked up to me and stood there, staring at me.

"Well, are you going to move?"

I laughed as I stepped aside. Welcome to New York...even as I fantasized about it. Man, I can't wait until it becomes a reality.