When is something that's "for public use" not really for public use? When money and politics come to the table, that's when.
But then something changed. Not so much with the tennis or basketball courts (as far as I know, at least), but more so with the four main fields.
I wasn't allowed to step foot onto the field. I couldn't play a damn sport -- no soccer, no football, frisbee, nothing. At first, 3-foot-high sandwich board signs with "Field Maintenance - Do Not Enter" were posted. Eh, my friends and I thought. We'll just kick the soccer ball around those signs. It worked for a while. But then the park rangers would roll by in either their white sedans with fake sirens attached the roof or worse, rangers relegated to golf carts demanded we get off the fields.
"Can you not read?" they'd ask us, pointing to the sandwich board sign.
Admittedly, I thought this was a racist dig, masked to keep the city's minority soccer players from taking to the pitch. At least in South Florida, soccer is a colloquial sport played by its mundane, soccer-crazed citizens. A typical day at Holiday Park used to have Haitians, Guatemalans, Mexicans, Brazilians, Costa Ricans, Hondurans and other non-Anglo folks kicking the ball toward makeshift goal posts.
I later found out I was right. Sort of.
After being kicked off the field on three other occasions, the last time I went was on a Sunday, about a year ago. I coincidentally arrived with three of my most Anglo-looking friends. "Mr. All-American" is what I'll call my first friend. The four of us stepped onto one of the four fields, tossing the football around. No more than 10 minutes later, a park ranger cruised next to us in his white sedan with rooftop sirens that probably didn't work and asked us to leave the field.
"Why?" Mr. All-American asked. "What are we doing wrong?"
"You need a permit," Mr. Park Ranger replied.
"A permit?" Mr. All-American asked incredulously. "Isn't this a public park?"
"Yeah, well, you need a permit to play on this Bermuda grass," Mr. Park Ranger countered.
Turns out some individuals petitioned the city to allow only permitted citizens to play on the Bermuda grass that's in Holiday Park. Well, seeing that the only fields worth playing on are the ones with Bermuda grass, we're pretty much S.O.L.
The ranger told us to play on another "field" located within Holiday Park. Actually it's a parking lot used by Parker Playhouse. After 30 minutes of trying to avoid the grassy potholes and boulder-sized pebbles -- and nearly twisting an ankle or two -- my friends and I gave up.
I see the point in wanting to protect the grass from the mess of cleats bound to tear up the sod. But seriously. It's a field. And it's public. It seems the only folks who've gotten permits are the ones who can afford it. The elite youth soccer leagues seem to play with ease. Mr. Park Ranger doesn't seem to mind.
Sure, I could probably go to another park that's less restrictive. But really, it's the principle of the matter.
It once again is a game between the Haves and the Have Nots. Guess which team I'm rooting for.
I agree wholeheartedly, and I have also experienced this for many years, not only in Fort Lauderdale but also in West Palm Beach. I have the solution, though. We need to quit trying to play soccer, football, or whatever else requires a nice field of grass and sit at home in front of the TV for hours ingesting cheese doodles and gallons of Dr. Pepper (not Mr. Pibb because he didn't get his degree).
ReplyDelete^^ Hahaha ^^
ReplyDeleteWow, that is aggravating that the city can get away with that. Are the permits costly?
Thanks for reading, Keri. It's not overly costly ($30/hour and an additional $40/hr if you need field lights), but not exactly affordable if you want to do this on a regular basis. I mean, don't we already pay taxes for these fields to begin with? Plus, there's some paperwork that goes into it to file your request before even stepping onto the field. All this requires some premeditative thought, which can deter some folks who are more spur of the moment. And get this: I just called the park offices, and permits aren't even being granted to those Holiday Park fields until after June 20. Some B.S. about shutting the multi-use fields for maintenance. I was told that if I didn't want to play on the Parker Playhouse parking lot, then I needed to "be creative" in finding space elsewhere.
ReplyDeleteI am glad you wrote about this Nila. I am all for preserving the park, but preserving the park by not allowing anyone to use it is ridiculous. I played over at the Parker Playhouse field/parking lot and it is not an acceptable field. Why do we pay taxes to the government if we get turned away when we want to use the services they provide?
ReplyDeleteI completely agree, Wesley. What's the point in having a public park when we can't use its services? Re-aligning it to a PRIVATE park might be a bit more accurate. That way we don't have to pay taxes on it because we can't even use it.
ReplyDeleteWent over to Holiday Park to play kickball as usual on Monday and Friday evenings. My friends and I find a field to play on when we're informed we can't play on said field because we don't have a permit. A permit???? This is a PUBLIC park. Turns out they don't want people walking on the "Bermuda Grass" who don't have a permit. Bermuda Grass sounds like another name for marijuana. Anyway we find a ...much smaller and not so well lit field to play on. But it still seems ridiculous. Permits to play in public park because they don't want people walking on the dirt. Dirt exists to get walked on. Bermuda Grass?
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