Bleu-Vingt-Deux, Sur Un

"The flight would be a good time to get some shut-eye", I thought awaiting my connection in Philadelphia, on my way to Paris. Contrary to my intentions, I didn't catch a wink on the flight. I had an aisle seat, so drink carts and people with tiny bladders made sure of this. During the 7-hour U.S. Airways flight I sat next to a French professor from Hamilton college in upstate New York. She spends her springs in Paris working at Bibliothèque nationale de France, or the National Library of France, translating and studying medieval texts and documents... obviously in French. It was nearing 10 a.m. local time when the plane broke through the low ceiling of clouds and I caught my first glance of Parisian soil. Charles De Gualle is a distance outside of Paris, so snow-capped farmland and the frosty countryside rose beneath me upon approach. After a long wait on the runway, I was rushed through customs, just to find a longer wait for my three huge bags. I finally exited the terminal to meet Bruno, the general manager, and head coach Patrick Esume. Note on the coaches: Esume looks, acts, and talks like an American, ...but he is actually a German citizen with a Nigerian background. He reminds me of many college coaches I had, all extremely knowledgable, exploded with energy, and loaded with the passion for the game that I almost don't understand. It is his first year with the Flash de la Courneuve, and I still think he is learning to understand what to expect at this level of football, that is, compared to the NFL Europe and NFL intern coaching experience his resume is packed with. Climbing into Esume's Audi, our first stop was the apartment, a flat owned by the team for years. The apartment was a pleasent surprise compared to past living arrangement in Helsinki. At about 120 square meters, or nearly 1200 square feet, the flat (I am in Europe so I have to call it that now) it is a good size place as far as European flats go. There are 3 bedrooms, a large dinning area, living room with three couches, and full kitchen. A 32-inch flat screen television, with a the full French package. (The only perk to this is NASN, or North American Sports Network) and wireless internet. There is only one full bathroom, but the toilet has it's own closet size room as well, ... don't ask. Since I was the first American to arrive, (Jeff's plane was grounded at his connection in Munich the night before due to snow, tough luck!), I of course chose the largest bedroom in the rear of flat. Lunch was at a local Chinese restaurant, so my first meal the world's cuisine capital is secondhand Chinese buffet. (It was Mexican it was Helsinki.) We meet the team secretary, and do-everything Mariannick Puig, and team accountant Stephanie. Swiss roommate Cedric joined us and Mariannick, Bruno, and Esume filled me on my schedule over the next couple of days. Transit passes, banking information, player's license, and a doctor's visit for insurance purposes would keep me occupied on most of my days off over the next week. Beyond that, the Flash only practice twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with an additional meeting-only session on Mondays. Games will always be on Saturdays or Sundays, our first of which is the 25th, away at the St. Ouen Cougars. Cedric Charpilloz is from Lausanne, Switzerland and a medical doctor and plays TE. They go about medical school differently in Europe and since he's finished school, he's come to Paris to play football and look for a job. It's a 4 hour high-speed train ride home for him, so Coach Esume agreed to put him up free of charge in the team's flat's third open bedroom. French is his first language and he's been to Paris before, so he is helpful to have around.

Jeff flight's came in shortly after lunch, so and Esume and myself went to airport to pick him up and then we went back to football office in La Courneuve.

Jeff Welsh is from Chicago, and played QB at Western Michigan. He played arena ball in the AFL for a few years and then stop playing all together. This is his first time in Europe, and is doing now kind of what I did last spring when I decided to go to Helsinki, ...dropping everything to experience something new. La Courneuve itself is a large neighborhood northeast of Paris and is connected to other Northern Paris neighborhoods, i.e. St. Denis, and Noisy-le-sec, by a tramline similar to those I used while in Helsinki. Note on La Courneuve: It is not Paris's nicest neighborhood, but I would call it far from a bad one, compared to bad neighborhoods in the States. The high immigrant population seem to make Jeff and I the stand out even more as Americans here in France. The greatest thing about La Courneuve is that is directly on all of Paris's main transportation lines. I have a five minute walk to the station from the flat, 10-15 minutes on the RER's B line and you are staring at Notre-Dame. There was a team meeting at 7:45 in the evening which was to be followed by practice. As Jeff, Cedric, and I sat in the office players started to stream in. Most guys are probably in their mid-twenties to mid thirties, from all different ethnic mixes and background and all only fluent in French. Note on the teammates: It was amazing the energy these guys had. Joking around, yelling, wrestling with each other... I felt like I was sitting in on a huge group of best friends who hadn't seen each other in months. I'd soon learn this is how it always is, ... everyone takes the time to go around to everyone else to greet them and ask them how they are. It is more then a just a greeting but a ritual where one starts at one side of the room and makes their way around sometime saying bon soir with a handshake, other times with a cheek-to-cheek kiss. As simple as that is... it is amazing to me. It is time consuming but extremely passionate, respectful, and truly genuine.

The meeting began, (after 30 minutes, of hugs, cheek-to-cheeks) and Jeff and I were introduced by Coach Esume. After a short scolding about player's licenses not being renewed by some of the guys, we were dismissed to practice. The fields were still covered in snow, so practice was at a gymnasium a short drive from the office and Stade Geo Andre.

A fast-paced, walk-through practice followed. I really wasn't there mentally, being jet-lagged, not having slept for 32 hours, and not understanding much of what was being said or explained to me in broken English by the French offensive line coach. Note on practice: Unlike Finland, all play-calling and instruction is given in French. So "blue twenty-two, on two" is actually "bleu-vingt-deux, sur deux" ...but in rapid, slurred French. "Alert" sounds like "olurrrrrrr." 60 Power, a common American running play is the unrecognizable "soixante owwwer." The playbook is not difficult to learn, but the combination of translation and misinterpretation make just remember the play and snapcount a complicated exercise of concentration. Immediately following practice, Cedric, Jeff, and I piled into Yoan's (back-up QB, and now infamously dubbed "bleu-vingt-deux') tiny Renault, and got a ride home. I didn't even bother starting to unpack. My eyes were closed before my head hit the pillow.

Goodnight Paris. Sightseeing will have to wait.