White people's sport

I could hear his music as he came up the bend - he had a blasting boombox. I was on my way to re-chalk. I grabbed my chalk bag , dipped my fingers in and when I looked up he was there. I rubbed my hands together and looked at him intently. He was a bit different than I expected. A bit older. He was in his fifties or sixties. He stood about a meter from the beginning of my route. For a split second I looked around my surroundings. There were still bikers passing by every few seconds, a runner every minute or so, and one of those police golf-carts about a 100 meters downhill. I didn't feel unsafe at all. I kept looking at him.

"I am harmless!", he said.

"Eh ... I'm sorry?"

"I am harmless. I am a good guy. You're going to climb this right?"

"Right."

"Go on. I won't be in your way." He pointed ahead and said something about the police. I imagine that they were watching us.

I tried to smile. "I know."

Actually, he was in my way. I could start but I could land where he was. I walked over to him and started anyway, making sure I didn't slip. He kept talking over the blasting boombox.

"Is this your first time here?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You've never been to the park? then you must be from out of town."

"No, I'm from here. I just haven't been here before." I meant the actual location, not even the park but from where I was hanging, I wasn't about to explain.

He looked at me for a while longer, changing the radio station erratically. Then he yelled more.

"This is white people's sport, you know? Black folk don't do this."

I cracked up and let go.

"Aha"

"This is white peoples' sport. I see them all over this thing all the time. "

"Aha. " I went back to my chalk bag.

"White people sport! White people sport. I gotta talk to the police."

Then suddenly, leaving aside a nicely made out trail, he made a dash through the bushes and started running to the police golf cart down below. For a while the boombox was quiet. and I went back to my route. Part way through my traverse the music came back. Eventually when I looked back he was slowly walking away from the police cart, tweaking his radio stations once again.