The French Formula (LSD, #3)

2. One

One

"This feels a bit like spying, if you ask me."

Doc doesn't pay attention to what I say, absorbed as he is in the stack of papers on his knees and the players on the field. I'm enjoying this day at the max, but he's living in another dimension.

This morning at 09:00, I found him in his office, as he promised. I helped him with several simple tasks. Thanks to his minor mobility caused by the plaster on his left leg, even watering the weed plants was too difficult for him. At 10:00, I pushed his wheelchair into the VIP area of the Stade Francis-Le Blé, the football stadium of Brest and home of Stade Brest, the local football team that plays in the Ligue 2. I missed most of the speeches because I was running errands like coffee and croissants, but I was back in time for the show, the opening of the First European Games. And what a show.

The European Games are not by far as big as the Olympics, but the French take them at least as serious: music, dance, colours, flags and fireworks, contributions by David Guetta, Vanessa Paradis, Bob Sinclar and Alizée, a glorious parade with all the competitors for the coming ten days, and a full stadium (thanks to 10.000 free entrance tickets) made the opening of the Games a spectacular success, broadcasted live in 294 countries all over the world.

There was no time to go for lunch because when the last dancers left the stage on the left, the first act of the Games came up on the right. This was what all those 16.000 spectators came for, the crème brûlée de la crème fraîche of the most famous people on earth: the stars of the Ligue 1, the Bundesliga, the Serie A, the Primera División and the Premier League entered the field for Round One of Free Kick Goal Scoring, the first of the European Games.

This is what all Doc's paperwork is about: he wants to know the winner of this game before it starts.

"It's not spying. It's science. What is the principal task of a spy?", Doc says suddenly. He had heard me, but ignored my question, as more important issues screamed for priority.

"The principal task of a spy? Getting information, I guess."

"And how does a spy get information?"

"By using his senses?"

"Excellent. A scientist also gathers information by using his senses. If you'd risk a thousand euros, betting on one of these 25 players, would you just pick a number? Or would you investigate first, to find out who has the biggest chance?"

"There's no scientific method to predict the winner. It's good luck vs. bad luck. Today's winner wins a fortune because he's more fortunate than the other twenty-four. Repeat the contest twenty times, and you'll get twenty different winners."

"Do you want to bet 1.000 euros with me? I know who's going to win today. It's the player from Portugal, Cristiano Ronaldo."

"How do you know?"

"Betting is science, and I'm a scientist. I just can't lose. First, I gather information, by using my senses. Of course, I have access to all the secret medical files of every player. That helps."

"That's cheating."

"No, it's not. Here you have a list of the 25 players. You can find their statistics everywhere. Matthew Le Tissier had a career average of 98% on penalty kicks. What's the use of knowing that, if his actual condition isn't good enough to win? His medical file says he hurt his knee three weeks ago. He's 48 years old, and he retired from playing professional football in 2002. Matthew isn't here to win, but to please the crowd. Steven Gerrard and Andrea Pirlo have retired too, but only recently. Their statistics and their medical condition are outstanding. I give them a fine chance to join the final five. Come on, make your bet. Mark your five favourite candidates for the final and underline the one who you think will win today."