First, let me introduce you to my father-in-law. What an incredible guy. My sister-in-law’s partner refers to him as “The Legend,” if that’s an indicator of just how cool he actually is. He is not young – he can tell you stories about when the Nazis came to France, though he was just a kid when the War started. He is very tall, like both of his sons, and is a tremendous sports fan. I mean bordering on obsessive. The man loves every sport – including the apparently well-known handball, in which the French excel, which is quite good since the Spanish seem to have dibs on everything else. But his two fave’s are football and basketball. He does not shout at his TV or place bets (though we do love a good lotto ticket from time to time). No, Jean sits calmly upon his sofa, occasionally informing the refs and/or players and/or coaches that they are idiots, occasionally catching a little shut-eye (intentionally or otherwise).