from me to yu

It is Tuesday, the first day after Labor Day. The calendar says summer has a few weeks left, but New Yorkers know the calendar lies. With Labor Day’s passing summer is over. The house shares in the Hamptons have expired. The sunshades are furled. Into the closet goes the seersucker. Out come the black, gray and midnight-blue outfits that sheltered there from the heat.

The city’s schools reopen on Thursday. But this is Back to School Day for adults. Recess is over. Even Mother Nature seemed to get the memo this year, or perhaps she’s the one sending it. The message: “Get off the beach. Get back to work.”

Since July critics for The New York Times have reviewed the inadvertent artistry of everyday life. Music critics visited Yankee Stadium and the tangle of traffic around the Holland Tunnel. A theater critic went to a restaurant and a dance critic to Grand Central Terminal. A book critic discovered the words of the streets and an art critic found the visually appealing happenstance of Manhattan.

I am the game critic. To me New York after Labor Day has always felt like a great game resuming. The whistle blows, and millions of people get back to the game of making money. With one day the feeling of the city changes. It becomes more urgent — strident even — less playful and more serious. New York City is not a game played for fun. It is a game played for keeps.