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When news of the prince's doubts reached the priest, his reaction was unexpected. He switched and gave his ecclesiastical support to the football field. He whispered his reason for this change to hawk-nosed Demo-Christian Augusto Belli, the prince's steward: "If the prince demurs at striking down the trees, can't you imagine how the Communists will be against their being cut? The Reds, after all, are the ones who gather olives on that ground!"
The priest got his Demo-Christian friends in Rome to send an expert of the Agricultural Ministry to decide if trees should or should not be sacrificed. The functionary, however, fooled the priest. He declared that they were not worth saving.
Prince Massimo was sitting in the local pub nursing his doubts when the news was brought to him. He banged his fist on the rickety table, crying: "Did the Ministry really say that? Thank God, then we needn't hesitate any more." Eyes shining, he rushed to Socialist headquarters, shouting: "We can go ahead—we can go ahead!" Quickly he went to find Communist Mayor Mario Alessandri. Massimo put a proposal to him. Before dawn he had his answer. Said Alessandri: "We are all for the sports field at whatever cost. We think our children's children will thank us more for a sports field than for a few decaying olive trees."
Dismayed, the priest saw his mistake too late. He had handed over to the Socialists and Communists a propaganda instrument of the first order. There was only one thing left for him to do. About one million lire would be necessary. The municipality would not dare advance this. Prince Massimo was short of cash. Only the government in Rome could advance it. The priest rushed to government departments, pleaded that there was urgent housing and sanitation work to be done at Arsoli while the municipality was threatening to waste money on a football field. Thus when Prince Massimo approached the government for funds, the reply was: "Is it really necessary to build a football field just now?"
Arsoli people grew angry. Now Socialism, like all their former hopes, was getting them nowhere.
Fireside Suffrage. Angrily, a group of youths rushed to the site of the sports field. There they found a sallow old woman, Santina Paincentini, leaning on a spade. She was digging potatoes she had planted there under the olive trees. She saw their intention at once. Stepping between the brown heaps of freshly dug potatoes, she cried in a loud voice: "Fine conscience you have to cut down olives whereby Christians live!"
Her invective was interrupted by a nine-year-old, naked to the waist, who cried: "This is no spud field for you, old spanker —it's a football field for us." The woman laughed: "There you have it! Those who want this football field still have the taste of mother's milk in their mouths."