How lovely is Paris this time of year—even through clouds of Molotov cocktail smoke.
Quelle ambiance!
You see, here at Man Mulligan, where subordinates are battle-tested and superiors are war-torn, widespread rioting only adds to the tourist experience.
Quelle ambulances!
So, how did the civil unrest across France influence our nickname agenda? Besides pepper spray-inflamed eyes and the occasional clubbed leg, hardly at all.
Our crackpot crew kicked our way through the city’s stadiums, slid the red clay of Roland-Garros, and even rode bikes down the Champs-Élysées. Then, we took stock of everything non-sporting Paris has to offer (our American-aligned brains are still hurting) and used what we learned (see the Notebook page below) to whip up a nickname even those Louvre thieves could be proud of.
In the end, the spandex-clad Man Mulligan cycling club didn’t bless the city with Paris Pedalers or Paris Protestors as its team name (though, they do have tempting rings to them). Instead, inspiration struck from our quieter moments throughout the city, both indoors and out.
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