Chereads / The French Formula / Chapter 2 - 2. One

Chapter 2 - 2. 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."

"I'm not going to risk 1.000 euros on a bet. With my night shift in the hospital, I make 400 euros per week. I'm not going to throw away two weeks of work in five minutes of stupidity."

"This is not about money; this is a scientific experiment. Being my aide and assistant, I want you to make a bet on the winner and the Final Five. I want you to make notes about your emotions during the process and about the reasons to pick your favourite players. You don't have to risk your money, but I do want you to imagine there are really 1.000 euros at stake."

I look at the list, 25 players, each from a different country (although he has an English passport, Matt Le Tissier represents Guernsey, which is just a tax haven, but nobody seems to mind). Most of them play for big European clubs and the retired rest have always been specialists. I check some of them on my spiPhone and make some notes of their statistics in free kicks and penalties.

"Don't waste time on that. Here's the list of data. It will save you time. What you should do is watch them on the field. This is not about what they have done. It's about what they will do. This is a scientific experiment. If it works out, I win 5.000 euros with my bet on Cristiano Ronaldo, because he's on a 1:5 quote with the bookmakers."

I look at the statistics: Cristiano is not in the top 10 of penalties and not in the top 10 of free kicks either.

"How do you know, Doc?"

"Look at his behaviour. That's not normal. There's only one logical explanation: he's on drugs. He's high on G.O.D. That's why he'll win today."

"Do you read that in his medical files?"

"I see that with my eyes. What did I tell you? Gather information with the senses, with sight and hearing and taste and tact and smell. All I can smell here is the short-cut grass. All I can feel is my leg, hurting like hell. My taste says it's two hours ago that someone brought me a tepid cup of coffee and a clay croissant…"

Is that a hint? It is. Doc refuses to go on. His hand clasps his throat, he coughs like he's been in the desert without a drop of water for the last five weeks, slowly loses conscience and now hangs backwards in his wheelchair, dead as dreadlocks, with his eyes wide open, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Would you like something to drink, Doc? A bite to eat, perhaps? It's about lunchtime. You must be hungry. Do you want me to bring you something? This is the VIP section, so there should be champagne and caviar. Or do you prefer a bread roll with cheese and ham?"

As by magic, Doc comes alive again: "My dear Bugs, how thoughtful of you. A selection of everything available would be very welcome. In return, I'll give you the vital information about how you can bet without losing your money."

That's an offer I cannot refuse. Quickly, I fill a tray with the best of the bar (in the VIP area, everything is free) and return to our seats.

Doc attacks the plate: "Where was I? Oh, yes, the senses. Tact, taste and smell are much better now, thank you. For betting, it's mainly eyes and ears you should rely on. What do you hear?"

"The crowd is singing songs about the players… Arrêt Lacazette… Memphis Rocks… Ese Portugués, mira que guapo es… You never walk alone, which, I guess, is for Steven Gerrard."

"Now look at those players. How do they react? Remember, this is a scientific experiment. Remember, they all got paid the same 1 million euros for coming here. They're playing for a worthless gold coin and the honour of being Number One. The result will depend on a mix of motivation and skills. The skills are on that piece of paper in front of you. You can detect the motivation on the field."

Most of the players do their warming up, running and stretching, with concentration, like this is an important match. Lacazette is not very popular here. He's French and also last season's top scorer of the Ligue 1, but for a reason unknown to me, the audience wishes him to fail, and that makes him… angry? Determined to win? The opposite happens with Memphis, also a player from the Ligue 1. He's Dutch and did not have a very successful last season, but the crowd seems to love him and he's all smiles, relaxed, waving to return the favour.

"What's the backstory on Memphis and Lacazette?", I ask Doc.

"Memphis dresses like a rock star. He is a modest and friendly person, who had a tough childhood, but he worked hard to make his dream come true. Those ingredients make him popular, even outside the world of football. Lacazette made some remarks in an interview last week, about farmers who live in the countryside. The press took it out of context and made it look like Lacazette said something bad about people who live in small towns like Brest. That's now turning against him. He's not happy with it, but the press always has the last word here. Do you speak Spanish?"

Doc's referring to the song: "They're singing: Look at that Portuguese, and how handsome he is."

"Cristiano Ronaldo won the Champions League, the Spanish league and the reward for the best player of the year. Besides that, he won the European Championship, played here, in France, last year. He's by far the most popular player on the pitch. When you look around at the number of Real Madrid jerseys with his name and number on the back, you can verify that easily. Look at his behaviour. He loves it, but… his reactions are not normal. He's walking on a cloud. Can you imagine a banker who jumps on the table, shouting like an idiot, after he closes an interesting deal? Can you imagine a car salesman who takes off his shirt and throws it into the audience after selling someone a low car for a high price? Drugs do that to you. I have no evidence, not yet, but that's why we're here.

» I've seen it before, in Leicester, one year ago. Their modest local football team did the impossible and won the Premier League. They enriched our language with the expression «doing a Leicester» for when you achieve something impossible. I worked there, in Leicester, and checked those players every week. I saw how they changed. That's not normal. That's drugs. Doping took over. But I couldn't prove it. Every pissing contest, every blood sample, every tear of joy and every drop of sweat was crystal clear. That's why I'm here. I want to find out how they do it, how the drug works and how they manage to come out of every test clean. That's my mission, our mission from now on."

I look at the millionaires, kicking their balls at each other. Doc just gave me inside information: each one of them gets one million euros, just to be here. One million euros is what an average European working-class hero gets for his lifetime achievement. These people get it for kicking 25 balls, for playing a game. I've read that Ronaldo earned 80 million euros last year. Would he take doping to win a silly game like this European Championship Free Kick Goal Scoring? Will he risk losing it all? Why? It doesn't make sense.

"It doesn't make sense."

Doc is a specialist: "When you're addicted, you do a lot that doesn't make sense. You're not open to logic. When you're an alcoholic or addicted to heroin, you know exactly what you're doing. Junkies are extremely creative to get their medicine. They know they're making their problems worse but refuse to see the logic. There are only two ways out: drop the habit or die. They keep convincing themselves it's best to carry on, to concentrate on solving the simple, daily problems of not being able to work and not having enough money to pay for the habit."

"This is not about drug addicts. This is sports. A healthy mind in a healthy body."

Doc has experience with simple explanations of complicated medical topics: "The problem is not where you're playing or what you're playing; it's how much you play. You can find addicted people in every field of society: there are workaholics, shopaholics, gameaholics; there are people obsessed with washing their hands, stalkers who can't stop following someone, people who believe they can't live without watching the eight o'clock news; there is even a famous writer, Ronaldo7, who's addicted to writing fiction. In everything, there's a line from custom via obsession to addiction. That route doesn't have signs like «stop, go back, you're in danger».

» We all enjoy drinking coffee or tea, two or three or four cups a day. That's a Custom. When the custom becomes extreme and its negative effects outnumber the pleasures, the doctor calls it an Obsession. Insomnia for drinking too much coffee. Angst attacks when there's no tea available. The third and worst condition is Addiction; we suffer negative effects, but we can no longer control our behaviour or kick the habit. Are you obsessed with anything? Addicted, perhaps?"

"Not that I know of. You might say I'm obsessed with saving the world or dying in the attempt, but I'm perfectly alright sitting here, watching the show, saving the world another day. I don't smoke, I don't drink frequently, and I don't use drugs. Nothing to worry about."

"Now, imagine you live in a country where four different sports newspapers write twenty pages daily about the club you work for. The TV reports every hour about what you did before, during, and after the training. If you break the historical record of scoring most goals in one year, you get questioned every day about why you can't break that record again in the following year. If you win the Champions League three times in a row, people ask questions in parliament if you don't win that cup for the fourth time. What would that do with you? Would you think logically: «it's just a game…»? Or would it infect you with the obsession of winning more? It's sports. It's about being the best."

Perhaps it's good to be the best, but I'm sure it's best to be just good. I try to imagine what it is to be addicted… «My own conviction, based on observation and experience, is that drugs may work for a person at the beginning, but always work against him in the end.», says Lawrence Block in his book «The Liar's Bible». You cannot live, you cannot die, trapped in yourself, your body a holding cell, the habit has taken your sight, taken your speech, taken your hearing, taken your arms, taken your legs, taken your soul, left you with life in hell… It's like kissing Poison Ivy: it promises to be a great sensation, but it will kill you if you don't stop.

The problem is in the marketing: regular users do their best to convince others to try it too, so they don't feel guilty for being the only one. If it's prohibited by the government, it must be something good. Even the language stimulates you to dope yourself: when they find out, they tell you the test was positive.

"Doped winners show the world they're also the best at cheating.", I reply.

"You're thinking logic. I'm thinking medic. I say that the best player in the world uses dope, right here and now, because he can't accept that someone else is better. He's prepared to do everything, absolutely everything, including crossing lines and sniffing other lines, to reach his goal. Notice that we're not talking about EPO here or amphetamines or other products from the International Doping List that are prohibited. We're talking about a new drug, so unknown that it's not even on the blacklist yet. There are no scientific methods to trace it. We can't even get a sample of the drug. All we have is a name: G.O.D."

I scan the Internet with my spiPhone: only 20 links. I read some of the information aloud to Doc: "G.O.D. stands for Genuflectil-Oxygenocide-Decoyfamatoriade, but the pharmaceutical industry couldn't produce a stable sample of the medicine», according to Medics International.

» "Gladiolas Or Death.", says Louis van Gaal, the trainer of Manchester United, a term that he explains as "an ultimate effort to reach the highest goal or die in the attempt". That sounds rather dangerous.

» Here's one from the Italian scandal paper Sproloquio Sciocchezze Stupidaggini: According to reliable rumours, the deceased stuntman was on drugs when the fatal accident happened. He told his friends he was running on G.O.D. The G.O.D.-father himself was his supplier. When one of them asked what G.O.D. meant, his last words were: "Genetically Overdeveloped Daredevil. Without G.O.D., I can't do the stunts that make this film a success."

» And you want to find that G.O.D.-father?"

"WE want to find that G.O.D.-father. As you can see, I can't do this on my own, but if you want to step away from it, I understand. It might be a dangerous criminal we're dealing with. If you don't want to take the risk…"

"No, no. I'm not afraid of anything. On the contrary: I hate people who bend the rules, cheat, and think they can get away with it. You can count on me, Doc. I'm on your side."

The Boss will jump with joy when he gets my report. It only takes me one second to open the PVR app and mark the current file as reportable. (the Permanent Voice Recorder automatically records every spoken word, translates it into written text and saves it every fifteen minutes into a text file, with date and time stamp.) This is an interesting conversation.

Doc continues: "Human behaviour is simple: everybody wants the reward, but we all want to pay as little as possible for it. If working hard gives the same effect as taking a pill, we take the pill. The risk is long term. Everybody thinks: «That won't happen to me.»"

"It won't happen to me, Doc. I prefer to do the hard work."

Doc continues as if he didn't hear my interruption: "Two kinds of people are most vulnerable to addiction. First, there are the stupid; they are not smart enough to understand the risks, and they are not smart enough to recognise and solve the problem. Creative people have the highest risk of addiction. Production of original ideas goes hand in hand with suffering lots of doubts. When their creativity takes a sabbatical, some of them try substitutes. They believe creativity runs faster on drugs, but the opposite is true: science proved that drugs slowly kill creativity. Those creative people forget what they created before they consumed drugs. When creative people are successful, it makes them even more vulnerable to addictions. That's why I suspect Cristiano Ronaldo. He's a creative and successful football player who suffers from ageing and competition. Do you know Stephen King?"

"The writer of «Carry» and «Christine» and «The Shining» and all those other horror stories? Of course, I know him. I love his books."

"Writers are creative people. Stephen King was an alcoholic. He did drugs too. It almost killed him. But he changed, sobered up and started to live healthily, doing four-mile walks every day. One day during one of these walks, he got hit by a truck, which also almost killed him. Taking drugs might be dangerous, but saying no to drugs doesn't automatically guarantee us a safer life either. Risk is everywhere. Life is a mortal disease. If you'd think about the risks of everything you do, you'd get crazy. That's why people do the things they do, because they think it will make them happy and they accept risks they don't know. We are all animals. We learn through experience. Some are more intelligent and learn from the mistakes of others. Others prefer to try out for themselves why something is forbidden. Users always think they know more than the ones who restricted it after burying the experienced…"

I agree with Doc, but… "Not every smoker dies of lung cancer and not everyone who runs on dope will get caught. With cheating, you'll have a better chance of winning. When the prize goes up, we risk more to get it."

"Exactly. Did you already mark your five favourites and underline your winner? All bets are closed when Round One starts.", Doc reminds me.

I mark Robert Lewandowski from Poland (5), Kevin Mirallas from Belgium (4) and Miralem Pjanovic from Bosnia-Herzegovina (3) for their excellent statistics. Dutchman Memphis is my number 2, against the odds. Lacazette is my proclaimed winner, for being the only French player, for his skills and for his motivation: hate is a great motivator.

Do I trust my gut feeling enough to bet a thousand euros?

I look at the players on the field. This is about information. Hate is nice, but skills are better. After another look at the statistics, and a peek at the secrets on the screen of Doc's phone (I'm a spy. I'm good at this game.), I mark Lacazette as number 3 and choose Pjanovic as the winner. Pjanovic has the best free-kick statistics of all players in Europe. He can't lose.

I show Doc my list and he shows me his top five on the screen of his smartphone: he has bet 1.000 euro on the winner and also 1.000 euro on the top five.

1. Cristiano Ronaldo (Portugal)

2. Christian Eriksen (Denmark)

3. Andrea Pirlo (Italy)

4. Miralem Pjanovic (Bosnia & Herzegovina)

5. Steven Gerrard (England)

If Ronaldo wins, it pays out 5 to 1, not very spectacular, but for predicting the correct top 5, the bookmaker promises a nice € 3.125 return for every euro placed. For putting 1.000 euros in, Doc can become a triple millionaire…

I make the calculations aloud: "Risky, to bet 1.000 euro on the top five. Statistics are 1:25 x 1:24 x 1:23 x 1:22 x 1:21. That's a of 1 out of 6.375.600 chance to win 3.125 euro. I thought you were a scientist."

Doc's superior smile is unbreakable: "I can't lose. I'm a scientist. I know what I'm doing. If the management of Manchester City would only listen to me… I can deliver them the Champions League on a plate. It's easy: first, we buy Messi. Then we buy Cristiano Ronaldo. Then we buy Pogba, and Bale, and Luis Suarez, and Ibrahimovic, and Neuer, and Lewandowski, and Benzema, and Neymar, and Tiago Silva, and…"

"You can only put eleven players on the pitch, Doc."

"No, you don't understand. We'll put them on the stands. They won't play for us. We don't need them to make our own team better; we just buy them to make the other teams weaker. The investment is… well, about a year's income for the owners of Man City. In return, they'll win the Champions League and make their dream come true. Professional sport is only a race to see who has the biggest wallet. People are crazy. They give their life and everything they have to become the Number One, and others pay to see it and feel like they're part of it."

The speaker announces the start of Round One and the end of our little chat. Let's see if Doc's right…

The game is simple: there are five spots from where to shoot. Every player gets five attempts per spot, 25 shots in total. A plastic plate, about two metres in front of the goal, replaces the reach of an average professional goalkeeper: a semi-circle with a base of 7 metres and a maximum height of almost 3 metres. The first five shots, the usual 11 metres penalty kick, give one point per goal. The second spot (the point of the box) gives 2 points, the 'short corner' (9 metres from the baseline and 9 metres from the sideline) gives 3 points, the 30 metres far – 30 metres aside gives 4 points, and each ball a player scores from the central circle will give him 5 points.

With 25 players in Round One, each firing 25 shots from 5 locations, this promises to become a long session, but the organization contracted Ian Rush to speed it up: the players use both sides of the field and shoot with a high frequency. From my point of view, it's almost like watching a game of tennis, moving your head from left to right to left to right not to miss anything. A network of boys and girls collect the balls and put them in the right spot, and each player has fifteen seconds to take his shot. It goes fast, and it is exciting. The crowd cheers with every goal and applauds for their favourite players.

After the initial penalties, it's clear who wants to fight for the prize and who came here to entertain the crowd. Matthew Le Tissier is here to entertain. They invited him because he's the world record holder on penalties. His five attempts from 11 metres go in, like almost all the shots of the other players, but on the larger distances, Matt can't compete with the younger and fitter professionals. Michael Ballack, the German, and Zlatan Ibrahimovic, who has been injured, follow his example. They make a show of every shot (missing most of them).

The electronic screen in the corner of the stadium shows the top ten. Only the five best players go to the Final Round, tonight, when each player starts with 0 points. In case of a draw in the final, the score of this Round One decides about the winner.

My five favourites are in the top 10 when the Game reaches the stage of the last spot, the 5-point shots from the central circle. Also Doc's four other players (we share Pjanovic) are on the Top-10 screen. Hakan Çalhanoğlu from Turkey is the current leader, one we both didn't bet on.

The kicking order is upside down, first number 25, then number 24 and so on, to make it as exciting as possible. Players can kick the ball from the ground, but they can also choose for a drop-kick, with more speed and less accuracy. Lesser gods pick the drop-kick. All Doc's players take the still-shot. Pirlo scores four out of five and both Eriksen and Pjanovic score three, enough to reach the Final Five. Leader Hakan Çalhanoğlu hits the post with his second attempt and the cross-bar with his third, but not one of his final five shots goes in and he drops to place six. Thanks to scoring his final two shots, Ronaldo gets one point more than Çalhanoğlu, and also Steven Gerrard, the other favourite of the audience, enters the top five with his last shot. All Doc's five players will play the final tonight. He has only a tiny 1:120 chance to hit the jackpot, but compared to his 1:6.375.000 of a few hours ago…

I feel excited, euphoric: "How do you do it, Doc? You promised to tell me your secret. How can I bet without losing?"

Doc shows no emotion at all: "That's private information. Wait until the stadium is empty. I don't want anybody else to hear it. We have to stay anyway because we have some investigations to make, investigations that I want to keep private too."