So, back in Barcelona. Hard to avoid the place when it remains one of the world’s great cities … and when visiting friends and family (from the U.S.) stage through the Spanish town on visits to Europe.

But it also has that one major problem that has not been resolved.

And this is not about a potential breakaway from the rest of Spain and independence for the “autonomous region” that makes up Catalonia — where Barcelona is located.

This is more visceral, at least to foreigners.

Pickpockets!

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Media outlets are suggesting Los Angeles Angels fans are excited that Japanese rookie Shohei Ohtani will return to the pitcher’s mound tomorrow night.

I am filled with foreboding.

Ohtani, the most prominent pitcher-hitter since Babe Ruth, has not pitched since June 6, when he exited a game with elbow stiffness — later described as a “Grade 2 sprain” of the ulnar collateral ligament in his right (pitching) elbow.

Ohtani chose not to have surgery on the damaged ligament, opting for rehabilitation instead — a process that returns him to the mound a year (or more) earlier than surgery.

The reality?

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(Photo credit: Domaine de Arjolle )

When most of the planet’s people hear “France” they think “Paris”.

Certainly that is the case for Americans.  And I don’t see why it would not be true across the spectrum of humanity.

France and Paris, Paris and France … a duo.

But only about one-sixth of French people — around 11 million — live in metropolitan Paris and its environs — generally known as the Ile-de-France.

Some 55 million (about 83 percent) of France’s 66 million people do not live in Paris. They are spread all over the biggest (by area) country in the European Union.

Which sometimes leads outsiders to forget that France is, in many ways (even in the 21st century), a rural and agricultural country.

We are reminded of that on a daily basis, here in the south of France. Our village has a population of about 700, and most of the economic activity here pertains to la ferme — the farm. And especially the vineyards.

Paris may worry about world affairs, but here in the fertile south of France, the people are far more interested in something much more basic.

The harvest.

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It rained in London yesterday. Not just a little. A lot.

Steady, pelting rain nearly the whole of the afternoon. And especially during the Crystal Palace-at-Watford match, staged in a London suburb.

The players were soaked. The officials were soaked. The fans, those of them who stayed in seats not covered by the partial roof … also soaked.

And perhaps the most prominent soaking of the match?

That of Roy Hodgson, Crystal Palace coach and at age 71 one of the oldest people in the stadium.

Hodgson stood in the open and was doused. Water ran off his head and arms. And it struck me as something not far off from “elder abuse”.

English football should come up with a law.

Every coach age 70 or older, no matter how proud or stiff-necked, should have a kid with an umbrella standing next to him.

Making sure a 70-something old guy does not stand in the rain for two hours.

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Its a “thing”. The Los Angeles Dodgers are one of those teams … and perhaps the ultimate example of that sort of club … in “working” the disabled list.

Basically, they have a pool of 10-15 relief pitchers and now, in the second year of the 10-day disabled list, the club moves those 10-15 guys around like they were inanimate objects.

Here is the latest: JT Chargois to the DL with a “nerve irritation” (a condition endemic to Dodgers fans, now that their team is fading out of the playoffs chase), and Pat Venditte, the ambidextrous reliever who has trouble getting outs no matter which arm he throws with, is back with the big club for the EIGHTH time this season.

Anyway, when the Dodgers stash a guy on the DL, they must (or perhaps they just feel a need) to explain themselves.

I follow this stuff, and it is silly to see what seems like almost daily moves and injuries. (And has to be difficult on all those guys riding the Los Angeles/Oklahoma City Triple-A shuttle.)

I see a way, I think, to help the Dodgers avoid using the same old list of alleged injuries (“oblique”, anyone?) — by assembling a list of injuries and illnesses perhaps they have not gotten around to using. To help create a veneer of cover to what otherwise look a lot like a team just gaming the system.

Their relievers, in particular, cannot get anyone out, as fans can attest: When Kenley Jansen came back from his irregular heartbeat, he quickly became the seventh Dodgers reliever to take a loss since Jansen first noted symptoms two weeks ago in Colorado.

Jansen? He has a real situation, and a serious one.

Some of the others? Don’t feel legit. Sounds kinda made up.

So, how about some fresh reasons the Dodgers can use when sending Pedro Baez or Chargois, or whomever, to the minors and recalling John Axford, or whomever?

Our suggestions …

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Chelsea opened Premier League play last weekend, and I could not have been the only viewer puzzled by the presence of a grizzled old … bum? … sitting among the Blues’ coaches.

It looked like the guy had not shaved in a while, and he had the sort of buzz haircut he might have done himself.

He was wearing what looked like the cheapest Chelsea shirt a fan could buy in the team shop, and his ample belly made the replica jersey hang over thin air, somewhere in the neighborhood of what looked like sweat pants.

He was a mess. But he was not a pitch invader.

He was Maurizio Sarri, Chelsea’s new Italian coach.

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Every baseball fan knows the situation in Los Angeles. The Dodgers have not won a World Series since 1988, and fans can do the math:

That’s 30 years ago.

The Dodgers owe it to their fans, who lavish a lot of money on one of the richest clubs in Major League Baseball, to push, hard, for a championship each and every year.

But as we head into the final seven weeks of the season, it appears as if management is asleep at the switch, with a major issue that needs resolution, and quickly.

The bullpen.

Don’t think about entering the playoffs without one. A good one, and the Dodgers are nowhere near that, at the moment.

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What are we? The proverbial “red-headed stepchildren”?

We just went 26 days without an elite soccer game being played anywhere in the world.

It was on July 15 that France defeated Croatia 4-2 to win the 2018 World Cup.

And then planet soccer went cold turkey.

None of the big European leagues in action. No international games. For nearly four weeks!

How can this be?

When will the day of sweet, sweet release arrive? When will the prisoners be freed?

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It was when Shohei Ohtani hit two home runs in a game at Cleveland two days ago that it became clear to me.

The rookie from Japan should stick to hitting.

His dream of becoming the first player since Babe Ruth, nearly a century ago, to be a regular Major League starting pitcher as well as hitter … it’s time to let that go, no matter how bitter it might be for him, as well as for his team, the Los Angeles Angels, who bent over backward to help him with his ambitious plan.

For a couple of months, it mostly worked. There’s that.

Ohtani focused on pitching the day he went to the mound, as well as the day before and the day after. He made nine starts as a pitcher, to wide acclaim, and he was impressive: an ERA of 3.10 and 4-1 record in 49.1 innings, with 61 strikeouts and a tidy 1.13 “whip”.

The rest of the time, he was the club’s designated hitter. And he was not your typical limp-bat, a-swing-and-a-prayer pitcher-as-hitter.

And then his right elbow, in his pitching arm, forced him out of the rotation after an appearance in early June. It was described as a Grade 2 sprain, an injury which usually ends in “Tommy John” reconstructive surgery.

Ohtani and the club hope that continued therapy can allow him to avoid elbow surgery, and the year-plus of rehabilitation that goes with it, and get him back in the rotation this season.

That is probably not realistic, especially when he has an option.

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The French call weather like this the canicule — which pretty literally means the “dog days” of summer.

But this round of heat packs a particularly nasty bite.

France, like much of Europe, is going through what may be the hottest summer on record.

The nearest big city to where we live is Montpellier, and its record high (in Fahrenheit) was thought to be a tick under 100 degrees.

Till this week.

It seems as if the temps have broached triple digits most everywhere in France, the unwelcome crescendo to two weeks of relentless heat.

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