The Bronx was quiet this morning.
The guys around Juan Carlos’s coffee cart didn’t have much to say.
Only breakfast orders were being shouted at the Crown Diner: “Two eggs scrambled, crispy home fries and whiskey down.”
Even the 2 train rolled quietly under the Harlem River and down the Westside of Manhattan.
Javier, who was slouched in the back corner of the last car, finally put down his newspaper and broke the silence.
“We took a beating last night,” he said. “Everyone takes a beating once in a while and it always knocks the wind out of you. We just need to take a deep breath and know that that the Yankees will come out ready to play tonight.”