And the batter was Frank Venezia, who was slapping line drives all over the lot (and laughing at Ciccio, who usually got him out with five pitches)...that was one reason Frank would remember the day -- he never thoughthe was that good with the bat.
My teacher was a deeply tanned fellow named Aryeh, who told me heoneday hoped to compete for the Israeli Olympic team. (I thought of him four years later, when Gal Fridman's Athens windsurfing victory landed Israel its first-ever Olympic gold).