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E f 1 Gato had been invisible for a long time. It was a progressive condition, like the failing of an eye or the withering of a limb. He was once El Gatp Torres, league leader in home runs and game winning RBI's, lifetime batting average of .279, season high of thirty stolen bases. He was El Gato, the green-eyed superhombre of baseball: first baseman, second baseman, third baseman, right fielder, pitcher. He was everything. He was El Gato. Then one day a worm crawled in his ear and started eating his brain. Soon El Gato wasn't hitting as hard. He wasn't running as fast. He lost the ball in the sun. The players noticed first. They said " 'ta loco, hombrel You got a worm in your ear? Tranquilo, Gato, don't listen to that worm. He'll make you break up the play." Gato only shook his head. He couldn't feel the worm but he knew it was there. And each day the worm ate a little more and a little more until even the fans started to say things. El Gato only had a few real fans. The others fell away like water. He was no good. He never was that great. There werehetter men now in the league, men who could play in the United States. When El Gato was released no other team offered to pick him up. They had all heard about his worm. The worm attacked El Gato with increased appetite. His speech slurred and his jaw slackened. His eyes watched the clouds race by like promises of a stolen base. People began to take advantage of him. They stayed in his house and drove his car. They took his money, which was a very small amount anyway. When they had taken as much as they could, the bank came in and took the rest^The rainy season came and El Gato put on his old untform'and started running after the clouds. They carried him over mountains and rivers, through green forests woven in thorns, through brown forests laden in bromelia. They whispered to him and called his name and made him do silly things. Men spat on El Gato. They urinated on him as he lay in the road. They beat him and played with his body. Gato grew so ugly that even the most wicked of men didn't bother him. Sometimes someone would recognize him and invite him for a meal or a drink. It didn't take long to notice the work of the worm and to