Allez (clap-clap) l'OL!

As you all know, I am a big fan of sports, and even if I have failed to mention it so far, I definitely brought my love of sports across the Atlantic with me. Needless to say, it has definitely taken some adjusting, and finally it has boiled over into this rant. I apologize in advance, but on both a personal front and from a professional standpoint, sports in France are not exactly what I expected. While some of these developments have been amazing, let’s just say that this is one of the aspects I miss most about the States. Allow me to explain.

I’ll start with the personal aspect, which is more negative, so we can build to the positive professional side. Unless you play soccer or rugby here, you are going to be out of luck in terms of finding organized sports. For example, I thought that France would have a thriving basketball culture; home to many NBA players, it is only logical that the sport would catch on here. The NBA did a European tour that included Paris, and each NBA game involving a minor French player no American has ever heard of gets a mention on the sports channel here (including the embarrassingly weak statistics for said French player). But, there are no pickup basketball games here in Lyon. Apparently there are plenty of courts according to an online search, but I kept going to these courts only to find them to be children’s playgrounds, or painted lines with a soccer goal on each end. And let’s not even talk about baseball; as I mentioned earlier, a tutor of mine has mentioned that there are baseball clubs in Lyon, and that he partakes in America’s favorite pastime, but to date I have not been able to prove the existence of these clubs nor have I thrown a baseball with him. Perhaps it’s too embarrassing to be seen with a baseball glove in France?

Also, I miss Pottruck. They say that Penn is really just a $50,000 a year gym membership, and right now I need to renew it. There are gyms here, do not get me wrong, but these are all a couple notches below the Radian gym (and definitely not open 24 hours). For comparison, I think the gym here (which is a supplementary cost, of course) could easily fit in one corner of one floor of Pottruck. Running on the streets is something I tried to take refuge in, yet that is definitely looked down upon by the Frenchies. The Rhone has a nice riverside path that looks perfect for running (think of the Schuylkill, only clean), yet on sunny days you will only find people sneering at runners as they smoke cigarettes. Or share a bottle of wine. We are still in France after all.

But enough about me, let’s talk about real sports in Lyon. In the States, we have a nice variety of sports, between football, baseball, basketball, and to a lesser extent hockey (no, I do not consider NASCAR a sport). Here, soccer is the only game in town, period. There is an ESPN equivalent here (L’Equipe), but of the 24 hours of the day, it seems like 20 are devoted just to this “beautiful game.” To be fair, I have tried to get into the spirit, which is pretty easy in Lyon as we do have one of the best teams in France. Coming from DC and Philadelphia, it was a pleasant surprise to learn that our team, Olympique Lyonnais, at one point had won 7 league championships in a row (a streak that was, of course, broken last Spring). Thus, in the spirit of support, a group of us went to an OL game earlier this month. We walked into a true cultural experience.

The game was against Liverpool, one of the best teams in England, and was part of the group stage of the European Champions League; in short, a big deal. The stadium was packed (about 40,000 people) with fans singing songs, waving flags, and jumping up and down; and that was before kickoff. We missed out on any sort of training for the songs, and still lack flags (although some of us do have some stylish OL scarves), so we contented ourselves with simply screaming and jumping every time Lyon did something appearing remotely good. Naturally, we fit right in. Despite a late Liverpool goal, Lyon somehow snuck one in at the last minute, and the stadium went nuts; we instantly became best friends with our fellow fans, hugging and cheering right through the final whistle. Of course, that was only a tie, but still everyone seemed enthusiastic about the result. 90 minutes of “action”, no winner. That’s soccer for you.

That game reinforced my feeling that Americans cannot understand the Europeans love for soccer, and only soccer. The few people that do rock French sports gear (as opposed to those Chicago White Sox hats running around Lyon, still bothers me) around town limit themselves to various forms of soccer paraphernalia. Shops put up signs showing their support of the team, flags proudly fly from houses, and cars even have special OL license plates. This is truly Lyon’s team.

Soccer in Europe transcends traditional boundaries. While you may have missed it back in the States, France just qualified for next year’s World Cup on Wednesday night by defeating Ireland. However, the goal that put them through was the result of a blatant handball. Not wanting to appear weak, and with the full support of the people, the Irish Prime Minister (Brian Cowen) is planning on directly talking to President Sarkozy at a high level European meeting this week about this travesty. Let’s see, economic crisis, new EU system, oh let’s talk about the possibility of replaying a soccer match. It’s not as if the French are not taking the bait, as the Prime Minister here claims that the Irish should stay out of refereeing decisions, and every opposition politician has been polled on the subject. And the front page headline of today’s paper reads “The Handball as a State-level affair.”

So while the French do their soccer well, some of us are missing out on the balanced diet of sports we appreciate back in the states. Sadly, I’m horribly uncoordinated with my feet, so soccer is really not an option. What’s left, rugby? I think I’ll just wait until I’m back in the States.