In the course of
his Latin American tour, Rocky Marciano has been mobbed by howling idolators in
Caracas, treated to a calypso serenade in Port of Spain, and at S�o Paulo had a
two-hour interview with a Cardinal, Carlo Carmilo de Vasconcelos Mota. The
Cardinal, like all the rest of Latin America, was delighted.
delighted, though, than Rocky himself was on the road to Sorocaba, 60 miles out
of S�o Paulo. The champion is a champion consumer of orange juice and other
soft drinks. It is a long half hour when he does not pause to slake his thirst,
and so, en route to Sorocaba, Rocky and his entourage stopped for the usual
reason at a bistro they found in a small cotton-belt town.
The tavern owner
recognized Marciano immediately and took a firm hold on the bar to steady
himself. His eyes bugged out in awe as he came around the bar to hug the
visitor. And, after some effusion of greetings, Rocky got his order in—orange
juice. There were oranges but no squeezer. The tavern owner was not desolated.
He squeezed the oranges by hand. As he did so, word spread through the town
that Rocky Marciano, heavyweight champion of the world, had arrived. The church
bells rang, summoning everyone, and soon 500 persons were crowded around the
bar to admire the relaxed, easy movement of Rocky's Adam's apple as he downed
It was one of
the greatest days the place had ever known.
to leave, then had a gracious thought.
way," he asked the owner, "what is the name of your town?"
"We call it
S�o Roque," the man said. "In your language I guess it would be St.
approximately one field mouse for every human in Great Britain, and 80 other
species of mammals besides; in the last two years they have found themselves
subject to an invasion of privacy such as wild animals have probably not been
forced to endure since the beginning of time. Hares with an urge to gambol in
the moonlight can never be sure that a man with night glasses is not eyeing
them from some shaded copse, and even seals have been seized, wrestled to their
backs, and unceremoniously tagged with an identifying label. England, in a
word, now has mammal watchers—members of a society that is doing its best to
make bird watching seem effete.