The Dream

The other night I had a dream. I was at a soccer match, a match between the French national team and some other country. It must not have been very important or popular, because hardly anyone was in the stands. In fact, at first I thought it was a practice! I somehow was seated right next to the soccer field. There I was, rooting for France*, when what should happen? Coupet**, the goalie, was injured! Since Barthez**, the original goalie, is still suspended for spitting on a referee, there was no backup! What could la France do?

Thank goodness for Zinedine Zidane**! The captain of the team knew exactly how to solve the no-goalie problem: Call on Gem! That’s right. Zizou looked up in the stands and saw the American answer to his prayers. I was rather flustered at first, since the last time I played goalie was as the counselor of a summer camp (I totally blew those 10-year-olds out of the water!), but I was up to the task. I entered the game hesitantly, and managed to save quite a few attempts to score. Since (even in my dreams) I am not a very experienced player, I let three balls escape me. But the rest of the team supported me and we still won!

At the end of the match, Zidane approached me, shook my hand, and congratulated me. He announced over the stadium microphone that I deserved the most praise of all the players since I was very inexperienced. The crowd cheered me and the team lifted me onto their shoulders! As I was carried around the field, I couldn’t help thinking, “Le Pacha will be so jealous! He will be so surprised to see me on television!” And then . . . I woke up.

This was the dream that made me realize just how immersed I am in French culture.

*Thanks to le Pacha I know lots of soccer cheers:
Allez les bleus!
Et un! Et deux! Et trois zéro!
Allez Paillade!

**I remember the days when I didn’t know who they were . . . ahhh, quelle naïveté!