Carter and Stephen played in their first official Italian baseball game last Saturday. The parents built the field themselves, despite complaints by neighbors who wanted a soccer field instead. Baseball is not common here and the Italians who play it are renegades. But they know what they're doing and the boys love it. David and I felt as if we were watching a game back home...almost. Inning one was interrupted by a dog on the field, which ran about for some time before his owner corralled him. We could hear someone playing an accordion in the distance. Our coach moved equipment with one hand while holding a cigarette in the other. And when the score tightened, the fans began cheering wildly, "Die, Die, Die Bartolo! Die, Die Marco!" And this to the boys they were rooting for! We might use this cheer back in Lower Gwynedd and see how it goes over.
(According to the Italian dictionary, "dai" means "come on" or "go on." So it makes perfect sense, if you're Italian.)
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With Italian American heroes like DiMaggio, Torre, and Maglie it would have seemed that Italy would have taken a liking to baseball a generation ago. The climate would seem perfect, in northern Italy at least. Maybe the Skeels should try to establish a "Pasta League" for Americans to escape the winter snows.
In other news, . . . .
"CINCINNATI — Ryan Howard homered in his first game back from an injury to help Freddy Garcia earn his first National League victory, and the Philadelphia Phillies beat the Cincinnati Reds 9-3 on Sunday."
And we won't mention what the Phils did to the 'Stros on Monday. Perhaps some of those Italian cheers would have come in handy....
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