To many football fans in the South, the dog days of summer end Monday with the start of SEC Football Media Days, the annual gathering of coaches, players and media where everyone is undefeated and has high hopes of beating Alabama.
Many media types use those dog days of summer to get away from sports and recharge their batteries.
Yours truly had no idea exactly how far from sports a vacation to Italy could be.
On a high-speed train from Florence to Bologna, one football field that had real goal posts was spotted. The stadium was small, the grass overgrown and appeared to have not been used in years.
The only two basketball goals of the entire trip were seen in Bologna. They were in a nice city park where natives camped under the huge shade trees waiting for the sun to set so they could return to their homes, which are not air-conditioned.
One 10-year-old kid was shooting at one of the rims on the playground. He was using a soccer ball. Several kids were trying to kick a soccer ball through the rim of the other goal. Twice, a bigger kid eased down the court and kicked the shooter's ball as far as he could. Apparently bullies live everywhere.
It was while sitting and watching that a woman scared your trusty scribe. She almost pedaled her bike into me. The chain was off and all she was really doing was coasting. A nice young man fixed the chain for her and fled as she kept trying to kiss and hug him.
That was right around the corner from a cafe named Bully, which had great food and table wine that were very inexpensive. It's hard to find anything but pizza and pasta in Italy, and that got a little old.
Places like that were found in Rome, Florence and Bologna. But in Milan, which was incredibly expensive and snobby, it seemed as though we were totally invisible because people on the sidewalk never saw us, and much of the time was spent dodging back-injuring collisions.
The reason for being in Milan was to take a train ride through the Swiss Alps, which was spectacular, as was the three-hour bus ride to get to the train station. The bus ride on the return trip was not fun, especially the descent from St. Moritz that had what appeared to be 30 S turns so sharp that cars had to stop to let the bus make the turns. The drop-offs were straight down, and experience dictated that your trusty scribe, who has a fear of heights, lie in the back row of seats with eyes clinched.
Florence and all of Tuscany were beautiful. Seeing Michelangelo's sculpture David almost brought tears to the eyes, as did the realization on the final day that our hotel was only eight blocks from Old Town and that the 11 taxi rides, averaging about $12 (euro) each, had been unnecessary. But they did help the economy. The drivers meandered all over the city racking up their fares.
Rome was Rome -- big, beautiful and busy.
A side trip to Cinque Terre -- towns carved out of a mountain overlooking the Mediterranean Sea -- was a hilarious disaster. The heat index was 105, all the restrooms were closed, and it felt like everyone in the country was trying to hike up the steep streets.
The train on the ride back stopped 19 times. Here's some advice: Never take the local train, especially during rush hour.
Ten cities were visited in all, and only one by accident. Time was devoted to soaking up the culture, including the lack of deodorant used by the natives.
The only shirt with a Razorback was spotted in Florence. But either he didn't hear the yell or the being invisible part was true.
One thing is for sure: Yours truly is ready for some football.
Sports on 07/12/2015