Allez!

Fans cheer on the women’s field hockey players, Stade Yves-du-Manoir Paris 2024

Two women crowded under an umbrella at the far-end of the bleachers. Damp strands of chestnut hair stuck to their cheeks. As I scooted down the row past fans, my shoulder and sopping wet messy bun swiped at ponchos and edges of umbrellas as I went. The younger, and more serious, of the two women scrunched up her nose. The closer I got the ruder I felt approaching them, like I would be breaking into their bubble of conspiratorial closeness.

With one seat remaining between us and them, the truth become more and more clear to me and my husband. Our seats were their seats. The annoyed woman jammed her hand into her jacket pocket for her phone. I woke up the screen on mine with a press of my thumbpad. We offered each other our virtual tickets, confident we’d both come to the right section. There was only one explanation for how we’d both ended up at the same plastic chairs at the same moment in time to watch the same game:

We’d been double booked for the field hockey match.

A babble of French and English broke out as we tried to come up with a solution. Quick thinking caused me to confiscate the nearby seats, and they made to stand up at the end of the row so that we could all settle in before the start of the game. An uncomfortable tension squeezed at the back of my neck. I couldn’t be sure why, and I’ll never know the truth, but my husband and I ended up in the better seats.

Maybe because they were younger than us? Possibly they were being hospitable as we were attending the Paris Olympics in their home country. Very plausible was because we are Americans. The smallest of clues from something we were wearing to our accent could have tipped them off.

A flurry of worry fogged the game happening before me. The only way to enjoy the afternoon was for me to let it go. In my purse, I grabbed out gum to work my jaw instead of my hands. You know the little doodles inside packs of Extra® gum? Those simple drawings of two people hugging, or that one of two friends catching snowflakes on their tongues? My pack of Extra® had a boy and a girl holding hands on the inside flap of the package.

So, I held out the pack of gum to the girls and offered them a stick with a very timid smile. Thankfully it caught and traveled from the corner of my mouth to the dimples in my seatmate’s cheeks to the lips of the second gal.

“Merci, or thank you,” she said.

“It’s going to be a great game,” I hoped.

And with a thwack of the hockey stick, the French women’s field hockey team began the match.

As the minutes ticked by on the game clock, I heard a low-toned voice that lilted up on the vowels, “Could I teach you the French cheer we say at games?”

Both young women were smiling at me from under the umbrella that was doing little to keep them dry.

“I’d love that!”

The one at my right shoulder leaned in close enough so I could hear her despire the cheering, “We say Allez-Les-Bleus. All-ee-le-blu-s. Try it!”

I tucked my tongue deep into my mouth and sounded the foreign words out until they both clapped their hands.

“Yes, it’s a silly phrase. It means, “Go Blues.” Because us French are the Blues.”

As if the French team knew a victory between friends was won in their stands, the ball slammed into the net.

“ALLEZ LES BLEU!”

We stood in unison and cheered. During the break between the end of the French match and the American team coming onto the field, I snuck to concessions and picked up cokes for the group of us. I got swept up in the moment of living out a Coca Cola® commercial bringing up the bubbles for us all to enjoy together. For twenty minutes, the four of us escaped into the saccharine moment. We didn’t say a word, hoping the experience wouldn’t burst too quickly on our new connection.

At the start of the USA v Argentina game, everyone in the stadium was standing for the national anthems of the representing teams. Once again, I heard that beautiful lilting French voice to my right. Our new friends were singing from the words on their screens, “for the land of the free, and the home of the brave.” It was my turn to smile in gratitude at them.

Allez Les Bleus. What a great game.