Sidewalk Athletics

A bright yellow chalk hopscotch court sprawled across the plaza flagstones was practically begging for an official tournament. After jogging down the lane to check it out, I spotted a smooth, flat river pebble near the curb—an ideal marker. I gave it a brisk flick with the tip of my boot, watching it skate across the gritty stone and settle dead-center inside square seven. At my height, clearing those chalk boxes is basically an Olympic long jump, but I vaulted through the singles and stuck the landing on one heel right beside the stone without disturbing a speck of chalk dust. Flawless footwork, obviously.