I didn’t know Steve as well as many, but even in the relatively few times we met from my involvement with Streetplay, I could tell he was an outstanding man who loved his family and stickball. I think his poem, “Our Game,” says a lot, so I’m putting it here so Streetplay readers who never even met Steve can see what he was about. -Hugh McNally, director of development, Streetplay.com Our Game by Steve J. Mercado I laughed when he spoke about games in the streets For I was a spoiled boy who played games in cleats I played with kids whose names I don’t recall But his friends remain friends who meet each spring through fall He grew up in the Bronx, by standards, quite poor But as a Father he vowed to give us much more As a boy, I saw the twinkle in his eye When he reminisced and told tales of days gone by He spoke of STICKBALL as if it were treasure I had never partaken in the source of his pleasure One Sunday morning I came out to see This game that he spoke of with such passion and glee My only regret is I had not joined him before For our relationship since has become so much more He’s not only my Dad but my best friend as well And I like to thank STICKBALL for this tale I tell I’ve vowed that my children will have much more than I For I will teach them to reach for the sky I pray everyday that my boys will be fine And as happy with their Dad as I am with mine STICKBALL’S the game, and each week we play Running, hitting, laughing, enjoying the day Our families, our friends, we love them the same Look forward to seeing you Sunday to play “OUR GAME”