Back when I was a lonely Amerikanaki, newly arrived in the Patrida, the first relative that came out to meet me was a second cousin named Haralambos, known affectionately as Harilaki. My Aunt Eleni, his mother, adopted me as one of her own and I became a frequent fixture at their home where the extended family lived. Sunday dinner at Thia Eleni's was the highlight of my week surrounded by my boisterous relatives. The family had established itself in a neighborhood that was known as Nea Smyrni or New Smyrna. My Uncle bought some land and moved there from Politsani before the war. Many of the residents were refugees from Asia Minor. Nea Smyrni became a rather fashionable, affluent area of Athens and I spent many pleasant summer nights sipping frappes in the plateia there with my cousin and his friends. Harilaki and I became close and we spent many good times together. Now and then he would straighten me out about the nuances of life in Greece and sometimes find it necessary to administer gentle rebukes aimed at my incompetent "friends" in the American State Department. In turn, I'd assure him I would call the Ambassador the next day, we would laugh and then plan our next trip to the soccer stadium situated in the middle of Nea Smyrni, to watch his favorite team, PANIONIOS. Harilaki was crazy about his team. I have never seen anyone so enamored by an athletic team. No matter how awful his team performed Harilaki never seemed to lose heart and woe to him who dared offer an offending word about the team. His passion and enthusiasm were infectious. Fact is, I developed a soft spot for this team and their Athenian neighborhood. I still wear the blue and red scarf my Aunt knitted me and remember fondly the days when Harilaki and I roared our approval when our team's ball sailed past the defending goalie: PANIONARA!!!