Victor Kerlow Dear Diary:
I’ve found that some of the most New York moments happen outside New York.
I attended a spring-training Dodgers baseball game in Vero Beach, Fla., a number of years ago. Inexplicably, the announcer played the “Chicken Dance†between innings. Two guys to the left of me jumped onto their seats and started a very enthusiastic chicken dance on their seats.
A group of old codgers in Brooklyn Dodgers jerseys started to have an animated conversation among themselves while they pointed at the chicken dancers dipping, flapping and spinning to the music while perched on top of their chairs.
Finally one of the old Dodger fans stood up and yelled in pure Brooklynese: â€What the hell is up with you guys Are you from Wisconsin or something†The chicken dancers looked stunned and stopped in mid-flap. One of them nodded yes.
The Brooklyn guy just nodded at his amazed friends with a look of I-told-you-so pure self-satisfaction and the two guys from Wisconsin quietly sat down and were left shrugging their shoulders at each other. They didn’t move for the rest of the game.
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