Potholes and politics

Steve Bruck eyed the car-maiming, jagged scar down the alley's middle, wiped his brow, and went to work.

His yellow Unibelt Asphalt Patcher had a steaming 5-ton load to wage war on the potholes that marred this quiet strip off Ranchito Avenue. Henry Magdaleno stood next to him, sweating under his hard hat. One pulled a lever, and the truck belched forth a steady stream of 250-degree asphalt into the cracked mess of the 40-year-old street. Brent Hopkins in the Daily News.

In half an hour, the crew's asphalt Whacker had smoothed the 3-foot-by-25-foot series of craters like a Zamboni on ice. The crew raked it like a Zen garden and then pounded it flat and even.

"Henry and I take pride in this," Bruck said. "If you're going to do it, you might as well do it right. Sometimes, we'll drive by a big patch and say, `Hey, I did that one.' It just makes you feel good."