Playing for Pizza
“came the response from under the pillow.“Yes. You’ve never been. Venice is my favorite city.”“So was Rome and Florence and Siena.”“Get up, lover boy. I’m showing you Venice.”“No. I’m too sore.”“What a wimp. I’m going to Venice to find me a real man, a soccer player.”“Let’s go back to sleep.”“Nope. I’m leaving. I guess I’ll take the train.”“Send me a postcard.”She slapped him across the rump and headed for the shower. An hour later the Fiat was loaded and Rick was hauling back coffee and croissa...nts from his neighborhood bar. Coach Russo had canceled practice until Friday. The Super Bowl, like its American imitator, took two weeks to prepare for.To no one’s surprise, the opponent was Bergamo.Outside the city, away from the morning traffic, Livvy began with the history of Venice, and, mercifully, hit only the high points for the first two thousand years. Rick listened with his hand on her knees as she went on about how and why the city was built on mud banks in tidal areas and floods all the time.MoreLess
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