The rugby team is a massive part of the city and generates a real

Hear the words of Gareth Thomas, the warrior of the rugby field, who spoke with reverence: “The rugby team is a massive part of the city and generates a real passion but there is also far more to Toulouse. I learned not only to respect the history of the club but also the area and I soon came to appreciate ‘buildings and structures.’” At first, these words appear as the reflections of an athlete adjusting to a new home. Yet deeper still, they are a lesson in humility, in respect, and in the discovery that identity is not formed by sport or victory alone, but by the spirit of place and the weight of history.

The meaning of this saying lies in the realization that passion, while powerful, must be balanced by appreciation. The rugby team was indeed the heartbeat of Toulouse, binding its people together with pride and fire. Yet Thomas learned that to truly belong, one must look beyond the roar of the stadium. He discovered that the city itself, with its buildings and structures, its streets and its history, spoke a quieter language of endurance, culture, and identity. Passion burns brightly, but history endures. To honor one without the other is to see only part of the truth.

The origin of this wisdom comes from Thomas’s own journey. As a Welshman, rugby was already woven into his blood. But in joining Toulouse, he encountered a place where the game was more than a sport—it was almost a religion, binding generations. Yet through time, he came to understand that a city cannot be defined solely by its team, just as a man cannot be defined solely by his triumphs. The true essence of Toulouse was written not only on the rugby field, but in its churches, its markets, its stones, and its people’s daily lives.

History itself offers a mirror to this lesson. Consider Rome in its glory: the gladiatorial games in the Colosseum stirred passion in the masses, but Rome’s greatness was not built on the games alone. It was built upon arches, aqueducts, temples, and laws, the structures of civilization that outlasted the roar of the arena. When the games ceased, Rome’s buildings and structures endured, whispering still of its power. So too, Thomas discovered, Toulouse was more than its games—it was its enduring heritage.

His words remind us of the balance between the fleeting and the eternal. Sport is noble, for it ignites passion and unites people. But cities and cultures are more than passing contests—they are living tapestries of memory. To truly honor a place, one must embrace both: the joy of its passions and the dignity of its history. Thomas’s respect grew not only for the club, but for the area, and in this respect he found a deeper belonging, one not shaken by wins or losses.

The lesson for us is clear: when we enter a new place—be it a city, a community, or even a family—we must not see only the surface of excitement. We must look deeper, to the structures that endure, to the traditions that shaped it, to the stories written in its walls and stones. To respect passion is good; to respect history is greater. For in honoring both, we find harmony with the soul of a place.

And so, let your actions follow. Wherever you go, whether as traveler, worker, or guest, do not confine your admiration to the passions of the moment. Walk the streets, touch the old walls, listen to the voices of history. Respect the buildings and structures, for they are the silent witnesses of time, and they will teach you more than passion alone can reveal.

Thus remember Gareth Thomas’s words: “I learned not only to respect the history of the club but also the area… and I soon came to appreciate ‘buildings and structures.’” For passion binds us to the present, but history binds us to eternity. In uniting the two, we discover the true greatness of a people, a city, and ourselves.