When Football Travels: A Story from the Heart of Paris
"In the City of Love, A Lesson in Teamwork"
Travel. Sport. Afterglow.
Travel has a certain magic. It can capture you, swallow you, and enlighten you—all at once.
Sports have the same power. The scent of fresh-cut grass, the bond of a team, the moments that ask you to rise—those elements stay with you. It doesn’t matter how old you are, whether you're on the field or in the stands, or even what country you're in.
This past week, my wife Amy and I found ourselves in Paris. To us, it’s the most romantic city on earth. We've visited before, always with kids in tow. But for this holiday weekend, it was just the two of us. Or rather, Paris shared herself with us.
If you’ve been, you know: the city comes alive in every sense. Mornings start with the buttery aroma of croissants spilling onto cobblestone streets from local boulangeries. Afternoons hum with laughter and clinking glasses as friends gather mere inches apart on vibrant corners. And when the streetlights glow, your imagination can’t help but wander—wondering who else once walked these streets hundreds of years ago.
Paris has it all. And when you're there with your heartmate, it just hits differently.
This year, our anniversary brought us back—and a new reason nudged us across the Atlantic: the rise of the Paris Musketeers.
If you’re wondering, “Who?” let me explain.
The Musketeers are one of 16 teams in the European League of Football. Yes, that kind of football. Goalposts and all. Our head coach is Jack Del Rio, longtime NFL leader of the Jaguars and Raiders. His son Luke, our offensive coordinator, is a rising coaching mind who will return to the University of Washington after our season to coach under Jedd Fisch on Montlake.
And me? I’m a minority owner of the team.
This is our third season. Each year I visit: to watch practice, sit in meetings, connect with staff, and feel the rhythm of our team. While it’s not the Big Ten or the NFL, it's still pro football. Our roster includes four Americans, and each summer they face off against teams like the Rhein Fire, Stuttgart Surge, and Frankfurt Galaxy—names you might recall from the original NFL Europe era.
And just like back home, the games bring nerves, jaw-dropping plays, and a fair dose of Sunday luck.
But the part I cherish most isn’t the game. It’s what our principal owner and former Arizona Wildcat QB Jason Johnson calls “The Afterglow.”
Jason is the grandson of coaching legend Frosty Westering, the most successful Division II/III coach of the last century, and author of Make the Big Time Where You Are. Long before it was on T-shirts, Frosty fundamentally preached “Be Where Your Feet Are.” And he also coined The Afterglow.
At Pacific Lutheran University, after each game, Frosty asked his players not to rush out to see family, friends or fans. Instead, he encouraged them to linger—to sit in the magic of the moment a bit longer. He knew that real culture isn’t built through gear or stats, but through togetherness.
And it worked. Frosty’s career record? 305-96-7. He never had a losing season.
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Amy and I landed in Paris midweek. For two days, it was just us. Ten-mile walks. Unstoppable laughter. A fierce competition to test as many bakery’s as possible. Long conversations under dim lights at our favorite hidden spot, Little Red Door.
It was near perfection. We got lost, we got found and we were living moment to moment. It almost felt like a permanent state of Afterglow.
When the other minority owners and their families arrived we visited the team, took in practice, joined meetings, connected with coaches and players. Our game against the Stuttgart Surge—a recent powerhouse—was looming. And truthfully, expectations were minimal. After all, it was this staff’s second game in Europe.
Kickoff came. On our third possession, Luke Del Rio dialed up an explosive touchdown. On defense, Jack Del Rio’s unit was airtight. We didn’t give up a point. By 4 p.m. local time, we had pulled off the biggest upset in our franchise’s history.
But even that wasn’t what mattered most.
Because after the final whistle, The Afterglow began.
For the second night in a row, our staff, families, and friends gathered at a small Parisian restaurant. What unfolded was pure magic. Coaches weren’t coaches. Owners weren’t owners. Kids weren’t just kids. We were simply a team.
Wine flowed, stories traveled from seat to seat, dance-offs broke out, and little ones gave heartfelt speeches about their new favorite football team. Jet lag vanished, replaced by laughter and connection. At one point, I looked across the table at my dear friends Marcus and Jason. Our wives were deep in conversation, and we exchanged a simple nod that said it all: this is what teams are about.
Or as Coach Frosty might say, this is what The Afterglow is all about.
Amy and I floated home along the Seine—until a few rats sprinted past and launched us five feet into the air. But the essence of that final night lingered.
It was clear: no matter the city, no matter the team, the most meaningful moments in sports and travel are when we stop to see each other—and ourselves—more clearly.
We might travel to see a new place or cheer on a new team. But often, what we find is connection. Perspective. Magic. That’s what makes both travel and sport so bespoke.
Paris didn’t disappoint. It rarely does. And this time, it brought together people from across the globe—and united us around a football. Not because of a scoreboard. But because we took the time to lean in, slow down, and sit in The Afterglow a little bit longer.
Once again, the phrase rings true:
How Great Is Ball.
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