Benedetti Bacci Ball

It is this time again. As soon as the warm weather arrives, my Italian landlord opens the bacci ball season in the courtyard. Mr. B. brings out the scoreboard, which is a wooden block painted in the colours of the Italian flag. Every Friday his friends come, mostly wearing white shorts, all retired, recently flown in from Florida and they begin to play. Like passionate Sicilians, they yell at each other, make loud clapping noises and whistle furiously. I took these pictures from my balcony, drinking scotch and pretending I was in Palermo again.