Girl Meets World: Want To Go To A "Football" Game?

As promised, I had to write another blog about my Wednesday night! It all started last week when Thom asked me if I'd be interested in going to a Paris soccer game. He tells me his neighbor has connections and can get us some tickets. In my head I thought, sure that could be fun... Little did I know the extravaganza that entailed going to this "Paris soccer game."

Back track to last Saturday night, the neighbors came over for dinner. Mind you that when I say the word "dinner," you wouldn't believe the preparation that goes into hosting a couple here. For starters, they call to invite you over at least a week in advanced. Normally whoever is hosting will cook but since Sadia didn't feel like it, they ordered a ton of really nice Moroccan food... for the entree. Don't even get me started on the mouth watering variety of appetizers, desserts, wines and cheeses they had. There was at least four different restaurants present at the dining table that night. But I guess that's just how Paris rolls! Anyways, back to the story, the neighbor Loic (Lou-week) was a very nice, well dressed, French man but luckily speaks English. The wife, not so much, but was nice as well (at least the smile and nods she was able to give me). Turns out, Loic is very high up in his company, Daniel Hechter, which is a clothing company specializing in men's dress clothes (suits, shirts, ties, belts, shoes, you name it)... No wonder why he was dressed so well. I thought that was cool but was even greater come to find out is that Daniel Hechter is the sponsor that dresses PSG (Paris-St. Germain), the professional soccer (football) team here. No big deal. They give the team 60 suits, 120 shirts, belts, etc. in return for getting 3 minutes of advertisement during the game as well as get hooked up with tickets, events, and all that jazz. Thom informed him about my soccer and not only said he'd get me tickets for Wednesday nights game, he said he could get in contact with the PSG women's team! We'll have to see how that one goes...

Fast forward to Wednesday night, while trying to bathe Josh and get myself ready at the same time, Thom mentions there is a dinner afterwards so we don't have to eat before. I say okay and don't think much about it other than cool, free food. We leave the house around 7:45 so we can get there before kick off at 8:50. Upon arrival, we drive into a "VIP Only" underground parking garage. Once parked, we walk over to stand in line to get chauffeured over to the stadium (which turns out to be easily walking distance). Right away I notice that it is all men, dressed in suits. I think I might have seen one woman in line who was someones wife. We spot Loic in line and once it was our turn, get driven over to the stadium in a Mercedes S Class chauffeur car. I'm thinking "wow..." but no, it gets better.

We get to the stadium and immediately go upstairs to a special entrance where we are greeted, given wrist bands, and escorted into the VIP Lounge. Okay, now I'm thinking "WOW." Once again, I immediately notice at least 98% men, dressed in suits, and waiters carrying silver trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. I'm not in Kansas anymore. Immediately regretting not doing my hair or putting on much make up, I walk around in awe until I run right into one of the three open bars... it's like a 6th sense of mine. Thom and I each have a drink and then get ushered towards the doors into our VIP seats because kick off is about to start. As I was in awe of the this VIP Lounge, I was completely blown away as soon as I walked towards my seat. 40,000 screaming fans present tonight whose passion for "football" would be evident to a blind man. The teams take the field and the crowd gets even louder. My immediate reaction to everything I'm absorbing is to laugh and I don't even know why that was... I was in a pure state of shock. Soccer in the US is not exactly everyones favorite past time and as it has been my life for the past 18 years, it was unbelievable to see first hand.

The game gets under way and I'm mesmerized watching the game live. Their touch, finesse, speed, (bodies).. I mean, athleticism. All so brilliant. In the first 10 minutes there was an undeserved PK given followed by two other goals. At half time PSG was down 2-1 as we made our way back into the VIP lounge (heaven forbid we were to hang out in the stands for half time). The lounge was transformed into a banquet style room filled with more hors d'oeuvres. It was all too good to be true so naturally, I HAD to document it. Looking lost wandering around the room, trying to figure out the best place I could snag a picture with fewest people noticing, while trying to seem like this ain't no thang (like everyone else seems to be doing)... well, that was impossible. The conflict in my head between choosing to look like the sophisticated, mature, young adult munching on some salmon cracker thingy with my pinky in the air orrrr the token newbie creepily sneaking pictures in the corner thinking no one is noticing... it was a first round knock out.

Second half got under way and was even more exciting than the first half. While PSG came out fired up with at least a dozen scoring opportunities, Lyon held off and was awarded a late (deserved) PK to finish them off 3-1. PSG losing was the only negative part of my night and even that, I didn't so much care about (shh). So the game is over and it's 11 o'clock at night... time to go home, right? Guess again. We walk back into the lounge and the room has magically transformed once again. This time into round dining tables everywhere topped with bottles of champagne, wine, soccer balls, and PSG paraphernalia. As we find out table, I notice that every table has a sign on it saying which company or person it was reserved for. We sit down and I take a look around at all the well dressed men (and maybe 4 other women) all around me. The first thought that crosses my mind is "nice ratio." Followed by a more sensible "... the networking I could be doing in this room." There were representatives present from every sponsor possible including Daniel Hachter (Loic's company), Orange (the major phone company in Europe), Fly Emirates, Nike, and more. Did I mention I really need to start learning French? Luckily, everyone at "my" table spoke English.

First course came out and it was 3 scallops the size of my thumb nail and mashed potatoes the size of my eye ball. Why is it that the smaller the food is, the nicer and more gourmet it tends to be? Seconds please... After the waiters cleared our plates, I noticed the others at my table "cleansing their palate" so I reached for my water to do the same. In a situation like this where I'm surrounded by wealthy, older men, I notice it turns into a game of Simon Says. They take a bite of food, I do too. They pour some more wine, I do too. Unfortunately Simon did not say to spill your drink all over the table. I managed to knock a glass of water that dominoed into a glass of wine and spilled everywhere. I'm out, game over. Just when I thought I was starting to blend in with the crowd, hello, the token American is in the house. Luckily no one was in the splash zone so the men just laughed and immediately fetched some extra table napkins. Besides this embarrassing glitch, the rest of the dinner was really nice. The scallops and potatoes were followed by a rack of lamb and ratatouille and ended with a heaven sent creme caramel dessert. As dessert was being served, another treat came out in the form of two young, handsome men... PSG player meet and greet time! Two of the teams best players came out to talk about the game, answer a few questions, and take pictures. As much as I wanted to get their number.. I mean, take a picture with them, I was a big, fat chicken and only snapped a photo from afar.

Overall, the night was a complete success and needless to say, set the bar very high for future football games to go to. Everyone at our dining table was very friendly, including me in all the conversations, speaking English for the most part otherwise translating what someone was saying. Again, did I mention I need to learn French? At around 12:30 we finally said our goodbyes, were given a bag of PSG goodies as if we were leaving a five year olds birthday party, and headed for the exit. The chauffeur's were outside waiting in a line to drive us a few hundred yards back to our cars. By the time we got home around 1am, I was feeling very tired and full. That night I went to bed looking out my window which I can see the Eiffle Tower from, laughing, thinking.. is this real life?