Often, in the afternoons, I go to the Jardin du Luxembourg to play basketball. The court is small with one hoop, thick-rimmed, and no three point line. There’s a crowd of regulars who I recognize by sight, but not by name. Children gather on the other end of the pavement kicking footballs, rolling scooters, and intermittenly wandering into our games, interrupting them. The structure of the court seems to dictate the style of play and the particular skills which thrive there. Slashers are often the most successful, as the scoring is generally done from what would be considered the paint, though there are no markings or colors to be found. Everyone plays pretty good defense, not excessively physical, but not lackadaisacal either. Yet for whatever reason there seems to be an inordinate number of foul (fout) and travel (marche) calls, and other such trivial interruptions of the game's momentum. Though I can understand how calling these violations when they do occur can help to dissuade smaller tensions from building into a generally more angry and violent all-around style of play, I must say, as an American, I find the French to be quite petty as far as these things go.