Going to Hell with Mel

Monday we practiced on a dirt softball field. Mel drove to the field and only hit one pedestrian wheeling a large piece of furniture across the street. I think he got more wood than flesh with the car but he didn't slow down to investigate. I can't interpret Italian sign language from a side-view mirror, but I'm pretty sure the guy waved and shouted he was fine.

Not a blade of grass on the practice field, but a smattering of weeds thrive in the outfield. A layer of dirt coated our clothes, shoes, teeth and lungs by the end of practice, so we caravanned with our QB's family to the favorite pizzeria to rinse with cold birre.

No practice Tuesday so Mel and Luis showed me around Catania. Luis and I entered the San Agata Duomo a safe distance from Mel to observe the masterful paintings and architecture of this jumbo-church. When Mel whispered he might be the answer to the prayers of a beautiful young woman kneeling reverently in front of the altar, I suggested God probably had other plans for him.

The dry air in the Duomo parched our throats so we proceeded to the team bar to share our observations, feelings, hopes and dreams, and Mel's new political party affiliation. Notice the picture of the Pope above the bar, smiling in approval.

After returning home for the evening, we basked in the exhilaration of another glorious day in Catania, sipping a variety of fine Italian wines until about 4:00 a.m., when I suddenly and unexplainably fell backwards out of my chair -- most likely as a result of a defective chair and an over-waxed floor our landlord will hear about when my Sicilian lawyer calls. I must have suffered a severe concussion from the fall because I woke this morning with a pounding headache.

When Mel finally made it downstairs late this morning, presumably after polishing his game plan, he seemed a bit tired and sluggish at first. Then, he looked up from the table with a big smile and said, "Hey, today is Cinco de Mayo!"