Spaldeens were always the ball of choice for me. Money was something only grownups were allowed to hold, so spaldeens were the kids eqivilent of cash. It you had one, you got to play.

In the mid-60s we played punchball day after day against the expansive brick wall of the New Yorker Theatre on 89th Street between Broadway and West End. Mostly 2-on-2. Hitting the New Yorker Bookstore sign was a homerun.

The game pretty much broke up by middle school, when some kids started into drugs and others were diverted to supervised activities.

I was never much of a ballplayer, but punchball required more finesse than power and I was pretty good at it.