Monday, July 9, 2012
That's What He Said- Chapter 11
If you're new to the blog, and I doubt it, and you don't know what this is then click here, scroll to the bottom and get caught up.
Chapter 11
Kristen’s letter did more than properly put this overblown campus issue into perspective. It also reminded people that I was ready and willing to defend my position.
Upon returning to school after Thanksgiving break I received an email from a Race, Gender, and Ethics teacher named Renee White. She politely asked if I would come and speak to her class and I gladly accepted. I was so convinced that I was 100% in the right that I would have accepted an invitation to debate Susan B. Anthony, Rosie the Riveter1, or Betty Friedan.
Professor White was a tall, African American woman in her early 30s who wore thick black rimmed glasses (the geek chic look) and had what almost looked like a female afro. It was frizzy and poofed up, but didn’t fall past her neck line. It did what a headband would do, but she didn’t wear one. Also, maybe it’s just me, but have you ever noticed that the majority of people with the last name White are black and the majority of people with the last name Black are white? I trust that someone has done a research study on this phenomenon.
In the days leading up to my appearance in Professor White’s class I learned that my editor in chief, Steph, would be accompanying me on the trip. I assumed that she was just loving this undue attention that my column attracted and wanted to come with, but I guess it made sense for her to tagalong because where I had to defend what I wrote she had to defend printing it almost verbatim. I also learned that one of my friends, a girl named Lauren, who lived with the Kristen in my grade that stomped all over my heart, was in the class. She told me that there were two Race, Gender, and Ethics classes taught by Professor White and that the most fired up females from the other class were giving up their free time (some were even skipping another class) just to get a piece of me.
I was not nervous in the least when I entered the classroom alongside Steph. In fact, I did not prepare anything at all for my “celebrity” appearance. All I did was double check my math on what I thought was my most incendiary line. “You catch STDs better than you do footballs.” I thought that the girls with an axe to grind would most likely point to this sentence to illustrate that I had gone too far. Knowing this, I did a little research and found out that at the time 1 in 3 college aged females that were sexually active had an STD. The number is probably worse now, but if I was asked to defend this line I planned on dropping that statistic and then saying, “If I picked four random females and threw a football at them as hard as I could from 10-15 yards away I highly doubt that more than 1 would be able to catch it. In fact, I coached a PowderPuff team and during drills no one could catch the ball when I put a little mustard on my throws. Next question2.”
As the class began Professor White gave Steph and I a chance to make some opening remarks, as if this was a trial by jury. Steph gave a little spiel about how she didn’t agree with most of the things that I wrote, but knew that I wasn’t a malicious person, and felt confident in printing my words because I, and ultimately her, were protected by our first amendment rights. I don’t think she said another word the rest of the class because the crowd was there to see me. In my opening comments I simply stated that 1.) It’s a humor column. I write with the male population of Fairfield in mind and 2.) I didn’t intend for the female student body to become so outraged. In fact, I’m kind of surprised by it because I don’t think that anything that I’ve written was all that serious.
This was followed by a 20-25 minute question and answer session that went something like this. (Many questions were asked, but these are ones that I specifically remember)
Female #1- Do you think that anything that you’ve written has been disrespectful to women? Like obviously you must because you’re here and there’s been this public outcry, right? So is there anything you regret writing?
Me- No, there is nothing I regret writing. Like I said, I’m a little surprised that there’s been such an outcry because I don’t think anything that I’ve written has been that bad.
Female #1 (with a quick follow up)- What about when you said that you want to throw a brick at girls’ faces?
Me- This is a humor column. You can’t take things literally. Would I actually throw a brick at a girl’s face? Of course not. But have I wanted to? Absolutely. I was writing to that urge. It’s just like how girls always say that they want to kick a guy in the balls. We all feel that desire, but we restrain ourselves. I’m writing to a male audience and that was a line that I thought they would enjoy.
Female #2- Is what you write things that have happened to you? Are things personal?
Me- Honestly, no. I mean, sure my own personal experiences influence my writing, but I approach this role as if I’m speaking for every guy on campus. When Jackie and I pick a topic I mix and match stories that my friends have told me to put forth what I think is the most accurate, and humorous, representation of the collective male opinion on that topic. Jackie, on the other hand, basically writes only about herself and her own personal experiences and more often than not I think that her words unintentionally end up backing up my points. I’m not saying that her approach is wrong and my way is right. They are just different. We have different writing styles.
Female #3- After the initial outrage didn’t you feel compelled to tone things down a notch?
Me- Sort of. Like I said, I was taken aback by most of the letters to the editor and all of that. I literally couldn’t believe that my words were prompting such a reaction because I didn’t think that they were offensive. After the initial outcry I sent an email to my old News Writing teacher who’s been like a writing mentor for me. She, a big supporter of woman’s rights no less, told me that I may be pushing the line, but and I quote “you should never compromise your writer’s voice.” I trust her opinion more than anyone else’s when it comes to writing, so I took her advice and stuck to my guns, so to speak.
Female #4 (the point guard of the women’s basketball team)- But wait. You’re contradicting yourself. I thought you just said that most of what you write isn’t based on your own personal experiences and now you’re saying that it’s your voice? That doesn’t make sense.
Me- No, no no. I take what I hear from my friends, their stories, things they’ve heard, and let me just tell you that much like I have no idea what girls say when guys aren’t around, you have no idea what kind of things come out of guys’ mouths when there aren’t any girls around. My writing is incredibly tame compared to that, but back to your question. Basically I take what I hear, my friends’ stories, their experiences and I put it all into my own words. The words I choose and the way I phrase and present the themes and concepts from their stories is my “writer’s voice”.
Female #5- How would you feel if Jackie wrote things that were offensive to guys?
Me- Well to be perfectly honest I don’t think she has it in her. Like I said earlier, she usually just sticks with her own personal opinions and experiences. Also, I don’t think there’s much that a female could write that would cause guys to react the way girls have reacted to my columns. Simply put, guys just aren’t as emotional. That said, if she wants to fight fire with fire I say bring it on.
Female #6- This isn’t so much a question as it’s a comment. Before today people told me that you weren’t really a mean spirited person and that you just wrote this stuff to get laughs and I believed them, but after today I don’t anymore.
Me- I’m sorry you feel that way.
Meanwhile, Jackie was upset with the way things were going with our columns and voiced her opinion to our editors (one of whom was her best friend and housemate, the Ice Cat’s girlfriend). She claimed that I was shooting down virtually all of her topic ideas. Technically she wasn’t wrong. Most of her ideas were either awful or specific to our Senior class (something I really wanted to avoid). During one of my many trips to The Mirror’s office I was told that I needed to be more receptive to Jackie’s ideas. I said, “Ok, fine. I’ll let her pick the next topic.”
Normally Jackie’s complaining to our editors would have really irritated me, but to be honest, it didn’t bother me at all. Jackie had broached the subject plenty of times to me in our conversations and I knew that she had probably just mentioned it to her friend. Basically she didn’t do it in a typical, annoying female way.
Either way Jackie’s brilliant topic idea was, “Can guys and girls ever just me friends?” Knowing that I basically had to let her have one I agreed to the topic.
The Mirror on December 12th, 2007
Can guys and girls ever just be friends?
No.
1 Yes, I know she was a fictional character. That’s how confident I was.↩
2 A line made famous by NFL super agent Drew Rosenhaus, who said the phrase 4 straight times during a press conference outside his client Terrell Owens’ home in 2005.↩
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Wedding Season
In case you haven’t noticed we are currently in the midst of wedding season. Couples everywhere are getting hitched and promptly putting their pictures on Facebook. Actually, it’s more like every girl that attends the wedding puts their pictures on Facebook, but you get my point. In the past 16 months I’ve attended 5 celebrations of holy matrimony. Prior to that I had witnessed zero. Amazingly in this 16 month stretch my oldest brother got married, but I was not in attendance for it. He and his wife did the whole destination wedding thing and I didn’t exactly have $1500 to throw down on a flight. Either way, now that I’ve experienced a handful of weddings I finally feel comfortable giving my impressions.
I’ve never been invited to a rehearsal dinner, but from what I gather they are fun filled affairs complete with speeches, toasts, and the breaking of bread among the families and closest friends of the couple. At the 3 weddings where I was an out of towner I met up with the wedding party at local bars/restaurants and had a great time. Those nights usually involve plenty of introductions and a host like atmosphere for the couple and even though they try to make it seem like it’s just a normal night you can tell that they are a combination of nervous, excited, anxious, and maybe even a little scared.
The ceremony itself is wildly overrated. Other than actually witnessing the couple get pronounced man and wife it’s basically just church. Random people you don’t know do the readings (aunts/uncles of the bride or groom), a priest attempts to craft and deliver a message that will resonate with the crowd, and it’s usually 95 degrees and everyone is sweating. I guess it’s a little fun to pick the bride side or the groom side (I’ve sat bride side twice and groom side three times), but that’s where the fun stops.
Like I said, I’ve never been to a rehearsal dinner, so I hope that you correctly assumed that I’ve never been in a wedding party. Let’s just say that if I ever am I might set a new world record for the fastest walk up the aisle. Obviously it’s not an overwhelmingly stressful spot to be in because no one is there to see you, but for that 15-20 seconds most of the church is looking at you (unless the bridesmaid is a smokehouse). I’m sure I could handle it, but I’d put some money down that I come across as nervous/awkward.
Speaking of putting money down, the only way to get through the mass is to place a few wagers on the proceedings. For starters you can set an over under on how long the ceremony will take. To make it easier you can just start the clock when the bride walks past your pew and end when the couple passes you as they process out. The more interesting bets are on whether or not the bride, groom, and/or parents of the bride or groom will cry at any point during the ceremony. At the most recent wedding I attended we had 5 to 1 odds that the bride would cry and 3 to 1 odds that the groom would cry (because she’s more emotionally stable than him). I took a chance on the bride shedding a tear or two and after we heard conflicting reports we had the best man, who was sitting on the altar with the couple, settle the tie. She didn’t.
The post-wedding situation outside the church is something I don’t particularly enjoy. Maybe it’s because I don’t understand the whole rice or bubbles thing or the fact that I just want to start boozing. I mean, what’s the point of standing around outside the church after the wedding? I get that you can say congratulations to the parents, but aren’t you going to say the same thing at the reception?
The maximum time between the ceremony and the reception should be 90 minutes. No more than that. You don’t need two hours to take pictures. While we’re at the in-between the wedding and reception portion of this incoherent post, why do some women change before going to the reception? Why not just wear the dress that you want to wear to the reception to the wedding? I don’t get it. It’s not like your performing a concert and you want to mix up your wardrobe.
The cocktail hour is where it’s at. An open bar and finger foods. Where do I sign up? In some cases the hors d’oeuvres are better than the chicken, steak, or fish. As fun as the cocktail hour is everyone is really just focused on figuring out what table the bride and groom have placed them at. Maybe it’s my outgoing personality, or maybe it’s that I don’t have many friends, but in 4 of the 5 weddings I’ve been to there have been at least 2 people at my table who I’ve never seen before in my life. I say maybe it’s my outgoing personality because I think of these as “mixer tables” and someone has to get the conversation going.
When everyone is seated it’s time for the wedding party to make their entrance. For the most part these are incredibly weak. The groomsmen and bridesmaids always try to do something funny or creative when they get introduced, but rarely are their dance moves memorable. The most memorable wedding party introduction that I witnessed was the one that I was a part of. Igave the starting lineups introduced the wedding party at my friends’ wedding set to the tune of the Chicago Bulls entrance theme.
After the bride and groom enter they usually partake in their first dance. Selecting a quality song here is key and I don’t remember a single one that I’ve witnessed. Obviously the couple selects a song that means something to them, but where have the classics gone? Can we get, “She’s Got a Way” by Billy Joel, “The Way You Look Tonight” by Frank Sinatra, or “Brown-Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison? I was at a wedding in New Jersey a few weeks ago and we thought for sure that we’d hear “Jersey Girl” by Bruce Springsteen, but that ended up being wishful thinking. In fact, the only time I heard a Bruce Springsteen song the entire weekend was in my car.
While hardly anyone will remember the first song, most people will remember bits and pieces of speeches given by the maid of honor (it’s maid, not made, right?) and the best man. Maid of honor speeches usually go one of two ways. If the maid of honor is a sister the speech goes like this, “She’s been dreaming about this day her entire life. In fact, we used to act out this day when we were growing. She made me be her husband, but I’m glad that she found someone like (groom’s name) because he does a much better job than I did.” If the maid of honor is a friend the speech goes like this, “We went to college together and we hated each other. She always looked so pretty in every situation and I was so jealous, so I held it against her. Then we had biology class together and we had to work on a project together. We hit it off and have been best friends ever since. Now today, I’m still jealous of how pretty she looks, but I’m also incredibly happy that she found someone like (groom’s name) to spend her life with.” That’s it. Two versions.
There’s a little more range in the best man speech. Two of my closest friends have given them and have done a remarkable job. One of them even had my parents stand up, as the bride and groom met at my house when my parents were on vacation. Now I’ve never given a best man speech and I don’t envision that I’ll have too many chances to do so, but I think the success of them usually comes down to three things. Length, humor, and heartfelt emotion. You have to keep things short. No one is there to see you. They are there for the couple and they want to eat their dinner and dance the night away. That said, you want to be entertaining, so you have to mix in a few jokes. The jokes obviously have to be tasteful because there are adults everywhere, but there has to be 2-3 lines in the speech that will illicit laughter. Lastly, you have to demonstrate true, genuine emotion toward the groom. You obviously mean a lot to him, so the onus is on you to tell the crowd how great of a person he is.
After that, eat, dance, and get hammered. Not necessarily in that order.
A few more notes (I’m sure I can add to this list):
- Father/daughter dance song suggestion- “Daughter” by Loudon Wainwright
- What do you get the bride and groom? Money. The rule of thumb is that you give them the amount that your plate costs. I usually give $125-$150. Write a short message in the card, so it’s something a little different for the bride when she opens all of the cards.
- I was at a wedding in Denver in January and almost made it the entire weekend without a Tebow reference until the maid of honor somehow slipped it into her speech
I’ve never been invited to a rehearsal dinner, but from what I gather they are fun filled affairs complete with speeches, toasts, and the breaking of bread among the families and closest friends of the couple. At the 3 weddings where I was an out of towner I met up with the wedding party at local bars/restaurants and had a great time. Those nights usually involve plenty of introductions and a host like atmosphere for the couple and even though they try to make it seem like it’s just a normal night you can tell that they are a combination of nervous, excited, anxious, and maybe even a little scared.
The ceremony itself is wildly overrated. Other than actually witnessing the couple get pronounced man and wife it’s basically just church. Random people you don’t know do the readings (aunts/uncles of the bride or groom), a priest attempts to craft and deliver a message that will resonate with the crowd, and it’s usually 95 degrees and everyone is sweating. I guess it’s a little fun to pick the bride side or the groom side (I’ve sat bride side twice and groom side three times), but that’s where the fun stops.
Like I said, I’ve never been to a rehearsal dinner, so I hope that you correctly assumed that I’ve never been in a wedding party. Let’s just say that if I ever am I might set a new world record for the fastest walk up the aisle. Obviously it’s not an overwhelmingly stressful spot to be in because no one is there to see you, but for that 15-20 seconds most of the church is looking at you (unless the bridesmaid is a smokehouse). I’m sure I could handle it, but I’d put some money down that I come across as nervous/awkward.
Speaking of putting money down, the only way to get through the mass is to place a few wagers on the proceedings. For starters you can set an over under on how long the ceremony will take. To make it easier you can just start the clock when the bride walks past your pew and end when the couple passes you as they process out. The more interesting bets are on whether or not the bride, groom, and/or parents of the bride or groom will cry at any point during the ceremony. At the most recent wedding I attended we had 5 to 1 odds that the bride would cry and 3 to 1 odds that the groom would cry (because she’s more emotionally stable than him). I took a chance on the bride shedding a tear or two and after we heard conflicting reports we had the best man, who was sitting on the altar with the couple, settle the tie. She didn’t.
The post-wedding situation outside the church is something I don’t particularly enjoy. Maybe it’s because I don’t understand the whole rice or bubbles thing or the fact that I just want to start boozing. I mean, what’s the point of standing around outside the church after the wedding? I get that you can say congratulations to the parents, but aren’t you going to say the same thing at the reception?
The maximum time between the ceremony and the reception should be 90 minutes. No more than that. You don’t need two hours to take pictures. While we’re at the in-between the wedding and reception portion of this incoherent post, why do some women change before going to the reception? Why not just wear the dress that you want to wear to the reception to the wedding? I don’t get it. It’s not like your performing a concert and you want to mix up your wardrobe.
The cocktail hour is where it’s at. An open bar and finger foods. Where do I sign up? In some cases the hors d’oeuvres are better than the chicken, steak, or fish. As fun as the cocktail hour is everyone is really just focused on figuring out what table the bride and groom have placed them at. Maybe it’s my outgoing personality, or maybe it’s that I don’t have many friends, but in 4 of the 5 weddings I’ve been to there have been at least 2 people at my table who I’ve never seen before in my life. I say maybe it’s my outgoing personality because I think of these as “mixer tables” and someone has to get the conversation going.
When everyone is seated it’s time for the wedding party to make their entrance. For the most part these are incredibly weak. The groomsmen and bridesmaids always try to do something funny or creative when they get introduced, but rarely are their dance moves memorable. The most memorable wedding party introduction that I witnessed was the one that I was a part of. I
After the bride and groom enter they usually partake in their first dance. Selecting a quality song here is key and I don’t remember a single one that I’ve witnessed. Obviously the couple selects a song that means something to them, but where have the classics gone? Can we get, “She’s Got a Way” by Billy Joel, “The Way You Look Tonight” by Frank Sinatra, or “Brown-Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison? I was at a wedding in New Jersey a few weeks ago and we thought for sure that we’d hear “Jersey Girl” by Bruce Springsteen, but that ended up being wishful thinking. In fact, the only time I heard a Bruce Springsteen song the entire weekend was in my car.
While hardly anyone will remember the first song, most people will remember bits and pieces of speeches given by the maid of honor (it’s maid, not made, right?) and the best man. Maid of honor speeches usually go one of two ways. If the maid of honor is a sister the speech goes like this, “She’s been dreaming about this day her entire life. In fact, we used to act out this day when we were growing. She made me be her husband, but I’m glad that she found someone like (groom’s name) because he does a much better job than I did.” If the maid of honor is a friend the speech goes like this, “We went to college together and we hated each other. She always looked so pretty in every situation and I was so jealous, so I held it against her. Then we had biology class together and we had to work on a project together. We hit it off and have been best friends ever since. Now today, I’m still jealous of how pretty she looks, but I’m also incredibly happy that she found someone like (groom’s name) to spend her life with.” That’s it. Two versions.
There’s a little more range in the best man speech. Two of my closest friends have given them and have done a remarkable job. One of them even had my parents stand up, as the bride and groom met at my house when my parents were on vacation. Now I’ve never given a best man speech and I don’t envision that I’ll have too many chances to do so, but I think the success of them usually comes down to three things. Length, humor, and heartfelt emotion. You have to keep things short. No one is there to see you. They are there for the couple and they want to eat their dinner and dance the night away. That said, you want to be entertaining, so you have to mix in a few jokes. The jokes obviously have to be tasteful because there are adults everywhere, but there has to be 2-3 lines in the speech that will illicit laughter. Lastly, you have to demonstrate true, genuine emotion toward the groom. You obviously mean a lot to him, so the onus is on you to tell the crowd how great of a person he is.
After that, eat, dance, and get hammered. Not necessarily in that order.
A few more notes (I’m sure I can add to this list):
- Father/daughter dance song suggestion- “Daughter” by Loudon Wainwright
- What do you get the bride and groom? Money. The rule of thumb is that you give them the amount that your plate costs. I usually give $125-$150. Write a short message in the card, so it’s something a little different for the bride when she opens all of the cards.
- I was at a wedding in Denver in January and almost made it the entire weekend without a Tebow reference until the maid of honor somehow slipped it into her speech
Thursday, June 21, 2012
That's What He Said- Chapter 10
As promised here is Chapter 10 of my memoir. If you still need to catch up (you have a lot of reading to do) then click here and scroll to the bottom.
Chapter 10
This column was one of my favorites. Not because it was funny (it wasn’t) and not because of the reaction it garnered (it didn’t garner much of anything), but because I was very pleased with my war analogy. This whole notion of writing about something by using the terms of something entirely different is a popular literary technique1, but something I had never done before. Looking back, my first hack at it was poorly crafted and could use a lot of work, but I still think that the idea was great.
Now I’m not sure if my column filled with war imagery had anything to do with it, but in the wake of the “controversy” that I had started a new female group was formed on campus. I wish I was joking, but they decided to call themselves “The Vagina Warriors”. How this group was deemed appropriate by the powers that be at Fairfield University is still beyond me. Case in point, if a bunch of guys wanted to form a group to discuss male empowerment and decided to call themselves “The Penis Brigade” or something of that ilk it would have been shut down almost immediately. Now what these cunt cadets actually did I’m not sure, but I do know that they had a president and vice president of the group which I’m sure looked great on their resumes.
The mixed reaction to my provocative language continued in the week that followed “The Dan Stanczyk issue of The Mirror.” While walking to class one day a former politics professor of mine said, “Hey Dan. I love what you’re doing. Keep it up,” as he walked on by. This came as a bit of a surprise because I wasn’t entirely sure that this professor knew my name. In most of my classes I was outspoken enough to build a rapport with the professor, but that was not the case in this instance. I took his Introduction to Political Theory class in the fall of my junior year and it was held at 9:30 on Tuesdays and Friday in the Dolan School of Business which was approximately 938 miles from my townhouse. I generally stumbled in, sat in the back, and tried to avoid falling asleep. There were plenty of people in this class that regularly answered the professor’s questions, so I didn’t feel compelled to do so. I often caved when a professor asked a question and no one raised their hand. That apathetic silence, or genuine uncertainty, got to me.
For some reason this man remembered me well enough to go out of his way to encourage my efforts as a writer. I assume he was just excited that there was finally some sort of buzz among the student body. Back in the ‘70’s American colleges and universities were filled with kids that had strong opinions about the War in Vietnam. Those strong opinions fostered spirited political debates on campuses all across the country. In the mid to late 00’s students didn’t care about anything. Political discourse was largely absent among co-eds. Issues simply didn’t affect them anymore. This trend must have been disheartening for politics professors who lived through the ‘70s. Because of this shift toward political apathy I imagine that my former professor was just thrilled to see that people actually cared about an issue on campus, as trivial as it may have been. Finally students were engaged and talking about something more important than the party they were going to later that night.
Another politics professor got in on the act that week by referring to me simply as “He Said” when he took attendance (yes, he took attendance. The only professor I had at Fairfield that did). I didn’t think too much of this response from my past and present politics professors, but as soon as a female religious studies professor that I had my freshmen year started saying hello to me as we crossed paths I knew that the faculty had officially taken notice. Two is a coincidence. Three is a trend. I generally didn’t care for this woman or her class and I still don’t understand how she had me as a student, went two and a half years without saying a word to me, and then decided that it was cool to start saying hi like we had kept in touch since I took her shitty class, but I still exchanged pleasantries with her when she initiated.
The positive feedback kept pouring in as The Mirror ran this letter to the editor, which in my opinion put the “controversy” in the proper context, the following week.
Stanczyk not all bad?
I am writing in response to the "He Said" column (insert complaint about insulting women and degradation here). I wear Uggs religiously, I attended an all-girls high school, and I am a female student-athlete. I enjoy wearing huge sunglasses at night, and I love pink hats. In fact, I could definitely beat Dan in a sprint. The problem is, he would not know that because I have never challenged him. And, Stanczyk-bashers, neither have you.
Ladies, I am all for girl power. In fact, I am an advocate of women's rights. I feel, however, that the type of response the "He Said" column has generated directly relates to the stereotypes Stanczyk has perpetuated weekly. Facebook groups entitled "He Said Shit" essentially mean nothing without follow-through. We, the gorgeous women we are, love to talk and all of your talk with lack of action shows the extent to which we have tried to affect change. If you want an apology from him, demand one. I am sure he would love to talk to you; in fact, I believe he said in this week's Mirror that he would be "more than happy" to speak with the offended parties.
"He Said" is not journalism. It is, however, a thought-provoking, public outlet for guy with a strong writer's voice. He has the right to make a statement. Editorials should encourage discussion or recognition of stereotypes. Did anyone ever stop and think that maybe that is Stanczyk's purpose?
Props to Mirror Editor in Chief Steph L. I think it is pretty cool that a female editor can handle Stanczyk's brutal opinions with the grace she portrayed in her recent column. It would be a shame to see freedom of speech silenced at the college level. I think that "He Said" has a great comedic sense. Some comments are offensive, sure, yet almost too ridiculous to be taken as truth. I think that is his point. The column provides entertainment, and that should be the extent of it. My friends and I continue to read The Mirror every week. In fact, I hear of more people reading The Mirror now. People actually care about a hot topic on campus - wait, what?
Most people, including me, usually get pissed off when another person points out what they do not like to see in themselves. Wear your Uggs proudly and give Stanczyk a "swift kick in the shins" in person. I'm sure he would laugh. He might even start to think a little differently. Think about it.
Sincerely,
Kristen M '09
Now in the interest of full disclosure, Kristen was one of the most interesting people I met in my four years at Fairfield. That said, she proudly wrote this article of her own volition. Kristen and I met in the fall of my sophomore year. She was a freshman living in Regis Hall, where my friend and future housemate Greg was an RA. The two of them hit it off in the first month of the school year and soon began hooking up. In late October Greg invited her and her friend, along with Tim, Max, and I to his parents’ house in nearby Trumbull, CT for dinner. A day or two before the dinner Greg told me that Kristen was perfect for me2, which was ironic because he was hooking up with her, but it only took a few conversations with her to find out that he was right.
Kristen was an athletic 5’4 with thoughtful, glossy-brown eyes, dark hair that went just past her shoulder, and an adorable smile. She was from the outskirts of Philadelphia and played field hockey at Fairfield. I was immediately drawn to her because she was engaging, cute, sarcastic, and had a realistic sense of the world. Not long after meeting at Greg’s parents’ house we began talking to each other on a regular basis. Mostly just via AOL Instant Messenger. For whatever reason our personalities just meshed. Eventually Greg, the hound dog that he was, moved on to another girl and hurt Kristen’s feelings in the process, but the end of their “relationship” was not the end to ours. We continued talking throughout the year and although I had developed strong feelings for her I never put my cards on the table or made a move because I wasn’t sure if she’d reciprocate and I was petrified of rejection.
We remained friends during my junior year, but didn’t really see each other much. That was until I stumbled back to my townhouse one night in October to find Kristen sitting on our couch with my housemate Pete. Pete, who lived in Room A with Glancy, was 6’3 with light olive skin, brown eyes, and in a way resembled a llama. He was 100% Greek and had an almost permanent 5 o’clock shadow.
Pete and Kristen met at a party that night and hooked up. I wasn’t happy about it, but Pete had no idea that I had feelings for her. Dylan and Matty K did, so they let me have it pretty good as Pete continued to send late night texts to meet up with her in the coming weeks. I obviously wasn’t thrilled that Pete continued to hook up with Kristen, but there was nothing I could do. I wasn’t going to be so petty as to cock block my housemate just because I had feelings for a girl that I had never even made out with. Eventually their brief romance fizzled and all was back to normal.
The next semester Kristen and I ended up in the same News Writing class taught by Fran. With the Kristen in my grade abroad in Australia, my attention was squarely on this younger Kristen (there must be something about the name), regardless of what had happened with her and Pete. As the semester continued we starting talking more and more (mainly about how much we loved Fran) and eventually Kristen’s roommate (the same girl that came to Greg’s parents’ house a year and a half earlier) told me in a very middle school way that Kristen was interested in me romantically. Sooner or later the two of us began “dating.” I took her out a few times, we hung out on weekends, etc. One night she came to my townhouse real late after partying with kids in her grade in the dorms and after a little playful chatter we soon made our way up to my bedroom. On the way up Kristen delivered the immortal line, “Why do I feel like I’ve walked up these stairs before?”
After a month or so of this “relationship” things came to a screeching halt. One weekend I was away visiting a few of my friends at a school in western New York when Kristen called and gave me some mumbo jumbo about how she couldn’t do this anymore, she wasn’t ready for a commitment, my friends were assholes, etc. She was hammered and I could hardly hear what she was saying, but apparently she meant it because when I got back to stag country that was that. Naturally I was crushed. I didn’t know what I did or what she wanted, but I had to deal with it.
Despite seeing each other in News Writing class twice a week we did not speak for a solid month and a half afterwards. During that stretch there were multiple times where I wanted to talk to her, but I told myself that I couldn’t based solely on principle. Eventually she cracked (I’m competitive even when it comes to things like who can be more stubborn) and IMed me one day about something inconsequential and we started talking like old times.
At the end of the semester we each had to meet with Fran to discuss the work that we had completed throughout our 5 month stretch as wannabe writers. In my meeting Fran mentioned how she was surprised that Kristen and not me had taken an internship with The Stamford Advocate’s Sports Department (the same internship that I would go on to have in the fall of my senior year). Fran had the editor and one of the writers come speak to our class and then gave us their contact information. Upon mention of Kristen, I asked Fran if she even knew that Kristen and I were friends. We hardly, if ever, spoke to each other in class and went a solid month and a half without even acknowledging each other’s existence.
“Friends?” she said, “I just hope I get an invitation to the wedding.”
“Really?” I responded in my best effort to remain coy, even though I was floored at her comment. Both because I didn’t expect her to say that and because I was thrilled that she thought about the two of us that way.
“I’m a reporter, Dan. I notice things.”
Fran was wrong, but Kristen and I remained friends throughout the summer and into the fall of my senior year. I rarely saw her though because she wasn’t 21 and therefore couldn’t get in to The Seagrape (the bar near the point that all of the seniors frequented). Also, I knew that our romantic history was just that, so there was no way that I was going to head back to campus for a night. Besides, I was all sorts of hung up on the Kristen in my grade and there was Jackie and Alyssa.
So when Kristen told me (via AIM, of course) that she was writing a letter to the editor about this so-called “controversy I demanded that she send it to me first. She obliged and after reading through her letter I was initially disappointed. I figured that one of my friends would have my back and rail against my haters. I had such a me against the world attitude at the time that it would have taken a lot for me to approve. It took me a while to realize it, but Kristen’s letter was actually the perfect defense. Simply put, she got it. She understood both sides of the equation (me and the staunch feminists) and was able to accurately put things in perspective.
Sure my purpose was not to raise awareness about the lack of gender equality in our society, but by making my male classmates laugh by way of female stereotypes the issue was brought to the forefront. Rather than use this opportunity to engage in a lively debate about one of the pitfalls of our college culture the majority of females took the opposite approach. They attacked what they saw as the new face of this injustice (me) with the kind of vitriol that only enhanced the very negative stereotypes that they were trying to disprove. Now I was by no means innocent, but lashing out against me was not the right calling card for social change.
In the mean time the calendar had given Jackie and I another obvious topic.
The Mirror on November 14th, 2007
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is all about restoring the American notion of patriarchy for a day. Sure women have made plenty of advances in society and there is still plenty of room for social mobility, but Thanksgiving puts that drive on hold like the Notre Dame offense this year. The women go back to their rightful office of the kitchen and prepare a feast while men lounge around and watch America’s number one sport: Football.
Thanksgiving, appropriately named, is a time to give thanks and this is what we should all be thankful for this year.
Football- Nothing beats tossin’ the old pigskin around with your family and friends. Things get heated once those turkey bowl games get underway and Uncle Bill starts cheating. Uncle Bill its not 1984 anymore3. You’re more washed up than Pauly Shore. Who said winning isn’t everything? If you aren’t first, you’re last4.
Football on TV- Once the meal and family time are over, grab a piece of pumpkin pie and get ready for the real fun to begin. The Lions are actually a good team this year and Favre and the Packers are back. Now while you thought you devoured everything in sight, just wait for the Cowboys to feast on the Jets. And please tell me John Madden isn’t announcing this year. He needs to get hit by his own bus. Boom.
The Wednesday night before Thanksgiving- aka the biggest drinking night of the year. St. Patrick’s day is pretty sloppy but on November 21st, the Irish learn who really knows how to party; Americans…because we are in America.
The Back to the Future marathon on TBS- The Delorean is great, but hopefully the tryptophan will kick in as soon as II ends and III begins. That Wild West might be worse than the Will Smith movie.
Stags Basketball- The season is finally here. The Stags might feel like mashed potatoes after their non conference schedule is over, but once the MAAC season starts it will be all gravy.
Also let’s be thankful that for at least another year we will have a male president. Now relax femi-nazis. It’s not women I dislike, its Hilary. So what if I’m bitter that she’s a senator from New York and she’s not even from there. On the other hand, if she does win, Bill would be back in the White House getting his saxophone played by interns. And this time it wouldn’t be an obstruction of justice.
1 See “The Crucible” by Arthur Miller↩
2 The only other time a friend told me that was during my sophomore year when Robby told me that the Kristen in my grade was perfect for me. Pretty crazy that my friends knew me that well.↩
3 I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but this was a clear reference to Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite (2004)↩
4 A line made famous in the 2007 comedy Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, which just so happened to be on our DirecTV package seemingly every day of the school year. I watched it upwards of 11 times and it got funnier every time.↩
Chapter 10
This column was one of my favorites. Not because it was funny (it wasn’t) and not because of the reaction it garnered (it didn’t garner much of anything), but because I was very pleased with my war analogy. This whole notion of writing about something by using the terms of something entirely different is a popular literary technique1, but something I had never done before. Looking back, my first hack at it was poorly crafted and could use a lot of work, but I still think that the idea was great.
Now I’m not sure if my column filled with war imagery had anything to do with it, but in the wake of the “controversy” that I had started a new female group was formed on campus. I wish I was joking, but they decided to call themselves “The Vagina Warriors”. How this group was deemed appropriate by the powers that be at Fairfield University is still beyond me. Case in point, if a bunch of guys wanted to form a group to discuss male empowerment and decided to call themselves “The Penis Brigade” or something of that ilk it would have been shut down almost immediately. Now what these cunt cadets actually did I’m not sure, but I do know that they had a president and vice president of the group which I’m sure looked great on their resumes.
The mixed reaction to my provocative language continued in the week that followed “The Dan Stanczyk issue of The Mirror.” While walking to class one day a former politics professor of mine said, “Hey Dan. I love what you’re doing. Keep it up,” as he walked on by. This came as a bit of a surprise because I wasn’t entirely sure that this professor knew my name. In most of my classes I was outspoken enough to build a rapport with the professor, but that was not the case in this instance. I took his Introduction to Political Theory class in the fall of my junior year and it was held at 9:30 on Tuesdays and Friday in the Dolan School of Business which was approximately 938 miles from my townhouse. I generally stumbled in, sat in the back, and tried to avoid falling asleep. There were plenty of people in this class that regularly answered the professor’s questions, so I didn’t feel compelled to do so. I often caved when a professor asked a question and no one raised their hand. That apathetic silence, or genuine uncertainty, got to me.
For some reason this man remembered me well enough to go out of his way to encourage my efforts as a writer. I assume he was just excited that there was finally some sort of buzz among the student body. Back in the ‘70’s American colleges and universities were filled with kids that had strong opinions about the War in Vietnam. Those strong opinions fostered spirited political debates on campuses all across the country. In the mid to late 00’s students didn’t care about anything. Political discourse was largely absent among co-eds. Issues simply didn’t affect them anymore. This trend must have been disheartening for politics professors who lived through the ‘70s. Because of this shift toward political apathy I imagine that my former professor was just thrilled to see that people actually cared about an issue on campus, as trivial as it may have been. Finally students were engaged and talking about something more important than the party they were going to later that night.
Another politics professor got in on the act that week by referring to me simply as “He Said” when he took attendance (yes, he took attendance. The only professor I had at Fairfield that did). I didn’t think too much of this response from my past and present politics professors, but as soon as a female religious studies professor that I had my freshmen year started saying hello to me as we crossed paths I knew that the faculty had officially taken notice. Two is a coincidence. Three is a trend. I generally didn’t care for this woman or her class and I still don’t understand how she had me as a student, went two and a half years without saying a word to me, and then decided that it was cool to start saying hi like we had kept in touch since I took her shitty class, but I still exchanged pleasantries with her when she initiated.
The positive feedback kept pouring in as The Mirror ran this letter to the editor, which in my opinion put the “controversy” in the proper context, the following week.
Stanczyk not all bad?
I am writing in response to the "He Said" column (insert complaint about insulting women and degradation here). I wear Uggs religiously, I attended an all-girls high school, and I am a female student-athlete. I enjoy wearing huge sunglasses at night, and I love pink hats. In fact, I could definitely beat Dan in a sprint. The problem is, he would not know that because I have never challenged him. And, Stanczyk-bashers, neither have you.
Ladies, I am all for girl power. In fact, I am an advocate of women's rights. I feel, however, that the type of response the "He Said" column has generated directly relates to the stereotypes Stanczyk has perpetuated weekly. Facebook groups entitled "He Said Shit" essentially mean nothing without follow-through. We, the gorgeous women we are, love to talk and all of your talk with lack of action shows the extent to which we have tried to affect change. If you want an apology from him, demand one. I am sure he would love to talk to you; in fact, I believe he said in this week's Mirror that he would be "more than happy" to speak with the offended parties.
"He Said" is not journalism. It is, however, a thought-provoking, public outlet for guy with a strong writer's voice. He has the right to make a statement. Editorials should encourage discussion or recognition of stereotypes. Did anyone ever stop and think that maybe that is Stanczyk's purpose?
Props to Mirror Editor in Chief Steph L. I think it is pretty cool that a female editor can handle Stanczyk's brutal opinions with the grace she portrayed in her recent column. It would be a shame to see freedom of speech silenced at the college level. I think that "He Said" has a great comedic sense. Some comments are offensive, sure, yet almost too ridiculous to be taken as truth. I think that is his point. The column provides entertainment, and that should be the extent of it. My friends and I continue to read The Mirror every week. In fact, I hear of more people reading The Mirror now. People actually care about a hot topic on campus - wait, what?
Most people, including me, usually get pissed off when another person points out what they do not like to see in themselves. Wear your Uggs proudly and give Stanczyk a "swift kick in the shins" in person. I'm sure he would laugh. He might even start to think a little differently. Think about it.
Sincerely,
Kristen M '09
Now in the interest of full disclosure, Kristen was one of the most interesting people I met in my four years at Fairfield. That said, she proudly wrote this article of her own volition. Kristen and I met in the fall of my sophomore year. She was a freshman living in Regis Hall, where my friend and future housemate Greg was an RA. The two of them hit it off in the first month of the school year and soon began hooking up. In late October Greg invited her and her friend, along with Tim, Max, and I to his parents’ house in nearby Trumbull, CT for dinner. A day or two before the dinner Greg told me that Kristen was perfect for me2, which was ironic because he was hooking up with her, but it only took a few conversations with her to find out that he was right.
Kristen was an athletic 5’4 with thoughtful, glossy-brown eyes, dark hair that went just past her shoulder, and an adorable smile. She was from the outskirts of Philadelphia and played field hockey at Fairfield. I was immediately drawn to her because she was engaging, cute, sarcastic, and had a realistic sense of the world. Not long after meeting at Greg’s parents’ house we began talking to each other on a regular basis. Mostly just via AOL Instant Messenger. For whatever reason our personalities just meshed. Eventually Greg, the hound dog that he was, moved on to another girl and hurt Kristen’s feelings in the process, but the end of their “relationship” was not the end to ours. We continued talking throughout the year and although I had developed strong feelings for her I never put my cards on the table or made a move because I wasn’t sure if she’d reciprocate and I was petrified of rejection.
We remained friends during my junior year, but didn’t really see each other much. That was until I stumbled back to my townhouse one night in October to find Kristen sitting on our couch with my housemate Pete. Pete, who lived in Room A with Glancy, was 6’3 with light olive skin, brown eyes, and in a way resembled a llama. He was 100% Greek and had an almost permanent 5 o’clock shadow.
Pete and Kristen met at a party that night and hooked up. I wasn’t happy about it, but Pete had no idea that I had feelings for her. Dylan and Matty K did, so they let me have it pretty good as Pete continued to send late night texts to meet up with her in the coming weeks. I obviously wasn’t thrilled that Pete continued to hook up with Kristen, but there was nothing I could do. I wasn’t going to be so petty as to cock block my housemate just because I had feelings for a girl that I had never even made out with. Eventually their brief romance fizzled and all was back to normal.
The next semester Kristen and I ended up in the same News Writing class taught by Fran. With the Kristen in my grade abroad in Australia, my attention was squarely on this younger Kristen (there must be something about the name), regardless of what had happened with her and Pete. As the semester continued we starting talking more and more (mainly about how much we loved Fran) and eventually Kristen’s roommate (the same girl that came to Greg’s parents’ house a year and a half earlier) told me in a very middle school way that Kristen was interested in me romantically. Sooner or later the two of us began “dating.” I took her out a few times, we hung out on weekends, etc. One night she came to my townhouse real late after partying with kids in her grade in the dorms and after a little playful chatter we soon made our way up to my bedroom. On the way up Kristen delivered the immortal line, “Why do I feel like I’ve walked up these stairs before?”
After a month or so of this “relationship” things came to a screeching halt. One weekend I was away visiting a few of my friends at a school in western New York when Kristen called and gave me some mumbo jumbo about how she couldn’t do this anymore, she wasn’t ready for a commitment, my friends were assholes, etc. She was hammered and I could hardly hear what she was saying, but apparently she meant it because when I got back to stag country that was that. Naturally I was crushed. I didn’t know what I did or what she wanted, but I had to deal with it.
Despite seeing each other in News Writing class twice a week we did not speak for a solid month and a half afterwards. During that stretch there were multiple times where I wanted to talk to her, but I told myself that I couldn’t based solely on principle. Eventually she cracked (I’m competitive even when it comes to things like who can be more stubborn) and IMed me one day about something inconsequential and we started talking like old times.
At the end of the semester we each had to meet with Fran to discuss the work that we had completed throughout our 5 month stretch as wannabe writers. In my meeting Fran mentioned how she was surprised that Kristen and not me had taken an internship with The Stamford Advocate’s Sports Department (the same internship that I would go on to have in the fall of my senior year). Fran had the editor and one of the writers come speak to our class and then gave us their contact information. Upon mention of Kristen, I asked Fran if she even knew that Kristen and I were friends. We hardly, if ever, spoke to each other in class and went a solid month and a half without even acknowledging each other’s existence.
“Friends?” she said, “I just hope I get an invitation to the wedding.”
“Really?” I responded in my best effort to remain coy, even though I was floored at her comment. Both because I didn’t expect her to say that and because I was thrilled that she thought about the two of us that way.
“I’m a reporter, Dan. I notice things.”
Fran was wrong, but Kristen and I remained friends throughout the summer and into the fall of my senior year. I rarely saw her though because she wasn’t 21 and therefore couldn’t get in to The Seagrape (the bar near the point that all of the seniors frequented). Also, I knew that our romantic history was just that, so there was no way that I was going to head back to campus for a night. Besides, I was all sorts of hung up on the Kristen in my grade and there was Jackie and Alyssa.
So when Kristen told me (via AIM, of course) that she was writing a letter to the editor about this so-called “controversy I demanded that she send it to me first. She obliged and after reading through her letter I was initially disappointed. I figured that one of my friends would have my back and rail against my haters. I had such a me against the world attitude at the time that it would have taken a lot for me to approve. It took me a while to realize it, but Kristen’s letter was actually the perfect defense. Simply put, she got it. She understood both sides of the equation (me and the staunch feminists) and was able to accurately put things in perspective.
Sure my purpose was not to raise awareness about the lack of gender equality in our society, but by making my male classmates laugh by way of female stereotypes the issue was brought to the forefront. Rather than use this opportunity to engage in a lively debate about one of the pitfalls of our college culture the majority of females took the opposite approach. They attacked what they saw as the new face of this injustice (me) with the kind of vitriol that only enhanced the very negative stereotypes that they were trying to disprove. Now I was by no means innocent, but lashing out against me was not the right calling card for social change.
In the mean time the calendar had given Jackie and I another obvious topic.
The Mirror on November 14th, 2007
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is all about restoring the American notion of patriarchy for a day. Sure women have made plenty of advances in society and there is still plenty of room for social mobility, but Thanksgiving puts that drive on hold like the Notre Dame offense this year. The women go back to their rightful office of the kitchen and prepare a feast while men lounge around and watch America’s number one sport: Football.
Thanksgiving, appropriately named, is a time to give thanks and this is what we should all be thankful for this year.
Football- Nothing beats tossin’ the old pigskin around with your family and friends. Things get heated once those turkey bowl games get underway and Uncle Bill starts cheating. Uncle Bill its not 1984 anymore3. You’re more washed up than Pauly Shore. Who said winning isn’t everything? If you aren’t first, you’re last4.
Football on TV- Once the meal and family time are over, grab a piece of pumpkin pie and get ready for the real fun to begin. The Lions are actually a good team this year and Favre and the Packers are back. Now while you thought you devoured everything in sight, just wait for the Cowboys to feast on the Jets. And please tell me John Madden isn’t announcing this year. He needs to get hit by his own bus. Boom.
The Wednesday night before Thanksgiving- aka the biggest drinking night of the year. St. Patrick’s day is pretty sloppy but on November 21st, the Irish learn who really knows how to party; Americans…because we are in America.
The Back to the Future marathon on TBS- The Delorean is great, but hopefully the tryptophan will kick in as soon as II ends and III begins. That Wild West might be worse than the Will Smith movie.
Stags Basketball- The season is finally here. The Stags might feel like mashed potatoes after their non conference schedule is over, but once the MAAC season starts it will be all gravy.
Also let’s be thankful that for at least another year we will have a male president. Now relax femi-nazis. It’s not women I dislike, its Hilary. So what if I’m bitter that she’s a senator from New York and she’s not even from there. On the other hand, if she does win, Bill would be back in the White House getting his saxophone played by interns. And this time it wouldn’t be an obstruction of justice.
1 See “The Crucible” by Arthur Miller↩
2 The only other time a friend told me that was during my sophomore year when Robby told me that the Kristen in my grade was perfect for me. Pretty crazy that my friends knew me that well.↩
3 I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but this was a clear reference to Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite (2004)↩
4 A line made famous in the 2007 comedy Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, which just so happened to be on our DirecTV package seemingly every day of the school year. I watched it upwards of 11 times and it got funnier every time.↩
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Hate List 4.0
It's time to update my Hate List. In case you were wondering, I got the idea from a girl I went to high school with who started her own list on Facebook. If you'd like to read my first three installments you can access them by clicking here.
1.) People who say/post the phrase “Is this real life?”- Yes, it is. Grow up. In many ways saying “Is this real life?” is a not so clever way to humblebrag. Listen many resorts are nice, so when you post a picture from your hotel room view or from the pool/beach I don’t think that you’ve gone to an alternate universe. My mind can comprehend that you’re just in a place where the weather is warm and the sun is out.
2.) People who ask for a retweet- 98% of the time it’s pathetic, desperate, and downright embarrassing. I’m willing to give those looking to promote a good cause a pass, but even then I think asking for a retweet is dumb. How many times have you clicked on a link that was retweeted by a celebrity and is preceded by the words, “Can I get a RT?”? Why do people ask celebrities for a retweet anyway? Just so they can tell their friends that Lady Gaga retweeted them? If someone told me that a celebrity retweeted them my first question would be, “What was the tweet?” If they replied, “It was ‘Can I get a RT for my birthday?” I’d never talk to them again. If you really want someone marginally famous to retweet you than think of something witty or provocative and take your chances.
3.) Facebook telling me which articles or videos my “friends” have read or watched- On the surface this seems like it’s actually a pretty good idea, but I really don’t care what some broad I met in my sophomore year History class is reading or watching on Socialcam (what is that?). There has to be a way to turn this thing off, right? Or to at least only allow it to show me what certain friends have read. There are certain people whose book/article recommendations I actually care about, but it’s a select few (10-12 tops).
4.) Girls that use their middle name as their last name on Facebook- I understand that some girls do this when they are searching for a job. I also understand if girls are teachers and don’t want their students to find them on Facebook. I get that. But either I have 23 or so “friends” that are teachers or looking for a job (yes, I counted) or girls do this just to seem cool. Seriously, other than the 4 pictures from college where you’re holding a solo cup and the post on your wall from your BFF where she says, “Where’ve you been slut?”, what is there to hide?
Let the record show that some guys change their last names to something dumb (never their middle name), but they’re just gay. Not gay in the mocking sense. Actually homosexuals.
5.) The Taco Bell commercial where a Mexican looking kid allegedly drove over 900 miles just to try the new Doritos Locos Taco- To even suggest that this actually happened is an insult to the intelligence of the American public. No one drives 900 miles unless they’re moving or traveling across country, let alone to try a taco that has a shell made of Doritos.
6.) Moving- I recently moved for the 4th time in 42 months and I always think that the process is going to be easy, but I’m always wrong. Once I move all of my clothes (despite my lack of even a remote sense of fashion I have a lot of clothes) I think that I’m home free, but I’m not. I know that the big stuff is going to be a pain, but it’s the small tables, trash cans, etc. that you never account for. They keep adding up and ultimately drive you crazy. The worst part of moving is that it’s never a smooth process. Something invariably goes wrong. For example, two weeks ago I quickly packed a bunch of random stuff in a suitcase before realizing that an entire bottle/carton of laundry detergent spilled everywhere because the top wasn’t fastened tightly enough. I also had already moved my screwdrivers into my new residence, so I had to go buy another one in order to take the feet off of my couch.
7.) Looking for a parking spot- Good luck getting a parking spot at ESPN at 1:05 on a Tuesday. Nothing in my day to day life is more frustrating than looking for a parking spot. Obviously I go George Costanza style and circle for the dream spot before meticulously scouring row after row in 3 different lots. The worst is watching 2-3 cars pull into empty spots during my mile walk to the office after finally finding a spot after 10-15 minutes of searching.
8.) Basic grammatical errors- One of the producers at work consistently gets the words ‘affect’ and ‘effect’ mixed up and it drives me crazy. Every time he hands me a pregame show format I find an error within 30 seconds. It’s not that I’m even trying to find them, I just do. It’s always trivial stuff like ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ or ‘our’ and ‘are’, but it baffles me how people in high places get by without a basic understanding of grammar.
9.) Coverage of Tim Tebow- There is a promo for The Herd with Colin Cowherd about Tebow that I must have heard about 585 times by now in which the Herd essentially says, “Tebow’s a backup quarterback. He’s going to be on the punt team. Why are we talking about this? Stop it.” While I don’t disagree, putting it into a promo and playing it over and over runs counter to his very message. Listen, Tebow is a lightning rod for members of the sports media and religious fanatics everywhere. He is a constant talking point. That said, saying that we shouldn’t talk about Tebow just adds fuel to the fire because by doing so you are actually talking about Tebow. It’s a self-serving argument that adds to what has become a vicious cycle.
It’s only mid-June and I’m reaching my breaking point with Tebow talk. I can’t imagine how I’ll feel in October.
10.) Betty White- I refuse to join in on America’s love affair with her. She’s 90, so I respect the fact that she still has her faculties and is still working, but I don’t care for anything that she’s done. As far as I’m concerned she’s the old lady from a Snickers commercial. Now she has a television show? Are we serious?
1.) People who say/post the phrase “Is this real life?”- Yes, it is. Grow up. In many ways saying “Is this real life?” is a not so clever way to humblebrag. Listen many resorts are nice, so when you post a picture from your hotel room view or from the pool/beach I don’t think that you’ve gone to an alternate universe. My mind can comprehend that you’re just in a place where the weather is warm and the sun is out.
2.) People who ask for a retweet- 98% of the time it’s pathetic, desperate, and downright embarrassing. I’m willing to give those looking to promote a good cause a pass, but even then I think asking for a retweet is dumb. How many times have you clicked on a link that was retweeted by a celebrity and is preceded by the words, “Can I get a RT?”? Why do people ask celebrities for a retweet anyway? Just so they can tell their friends that Lady Gaga retweeted them? If someone told me that a celebrity retweeted them my first question would be, “What was the tweet?” If they replied, “It was ‘Can I get a RT for my birthday?” I’d never talk to them again. If you really want someone marginally famous to retweet you than think of something witty or provocative and take your chances.
3.) Facebook telling me which articles or videos my “friends” have read or watched- On the surface this seems like it’s actually a pretty good idea, but I really don’t care what some broad I met in my sophomore year History class is reading or watching on Socialcam (what is that?). There has to be a way to turn this thing off, right? Or to at least only allow it to show me what certain friends have read. There are certain people whose book/article recommendations I actually care about, but it’s a select few (10-12 tops).
4.) Girls that use their middle name as their last name on Facebook- I understand that some girls do this when they are searching for a job. I also understand if girls are teachers and don’t want their students to find them on Facebook. I get that. But either I have 23 or so “friends” that are teachers or looking for a job (yes, I counted) or girls do this just to seem cool. Seriously, other than the 4 pictures from college where you’re holding a solo cup and the post on your wall from your BFF where she says, “Where’ve you been slut?”, what is there to hide?
Let the record show that some guys change their last names to something dumb (never their middle name), but they’re just gay. Not gay in the mocking sense. Actually homosexuals.
5.) The Taco Bell commercial where a Mexican looking kid allegedly drove over 900 miles just to try the new Doritos Locos Taco- To even suggest that this actually happened is an insult to the intelligence of the American public. No one drives 900 miles unless they’re moving or traveling across country, let alone to try a taco that has a shell made of Doritos.
6.) Moving- I recently moved for the 4th time in 42 months and I always think that the process is going to be easy, but I’m always wrong. Once I move all of my clothes (despite my lack of even a remote sense of fashion I have a lot of clothes) I think that I’m home free, but I’m not. I know that the big stuff is going to be a pain, but it’s the small tables, trash cans, etc. that you never account for. They keep adding up and ultimately drive you crazy. The worst part of moving is that it’s never a smooth process. Something invariably goes wrong. For example, two weeks ago I quickly packed a bunch of random stuff in a suitcase before realizing that an entire bottle/carton of laundry detergent spilled everywhere because the top wasn’t fastened tightly enough. I also had already moved my screwdrivers into my new residence, so I had to go buy another one in order to take the feet off of my couch.
7.) Looking for a parking spot- Good luck getting a parking spot at ESPN at 1:05 on a Tuesday. Nothing in my day to day life is more frustrating than looking for a parking spot. Obviously I go George Costanza style and circle for the dream spot before meticulously scouring row after row in 3 different lots. The worst is watching 2-3 cars pull into empty spots during my mile walk to the office after finally finding a spot after 10-15 minutes of searching.
8.) Basic grammatical errors- One of the producers at work consistently gets the words ‘affect’ and ‘effect’ mixed up and it drives me crazy. Every time he hands me a pregame show format I find an error within 30 seconds. It’s not that I’m even trying to find them, I just do. It’s always trivial stuff like ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ or ‘our’ and ‘are’, but it baffles me how people in high places get by without a basic understanding of grammar.
9.) Coverage of Tim Tebow- There is a promo for The Herd with Colin Cowherd about Tebow that I must have heard about 585 times by now in which the Herd essentially says, “Tebow’s a backup quarterback. He’s going to be on the punt team. Why are we talking about this? Stop it.” While I don’t disagree, putting it into a promo and playing it over and over runs counter to his very message. Listen, Tebow is a lightning rod for members of the sports media and religious fanatics everywhere. He is a constant talking point. That said, saying that we shouldn’t talk about Tebow just adds fuel to the fire because by doing so you are actually talking about Tebow. It’s a self-serving argument that adds to what has become a vicious cycle.
It’s only mid-June and I’m reaching my breaking point with Tebow talk. I can’t imagine how I’ll feel in October.
10.) Betty White- I refuse to join in on America’s love affair with her. She’s 90, so I respect the fact that she still has her faculties and is still working, but I don’t care for anything that she’s done. As far as I’m concerned she’s the old lady from a Snickers commercial. Now she has a television show? Are we serious?
Thursday, June 7, 2012
That's What He Said- Chapter 9
Here's your monthly installment of my memoir. If you don't know what the hell this is, just click here, scroll to the bottom, and catch up.
Chapter 9
Only hours after my column about how girls and sports don’t mix was published I received a vicious Facebook message from a perturbed “sports fan”. She started her message by saying, “In regards to your latest pile of bullshit in The Mirror, I would like to say that you are a disgrace to boys everywhere.” She followed up that diatribe with an attempt to validate her sports knowledge and then to top things off she formed a Facebook group titled “He Said Sh*t”.
As angered females across campus joined this group in slow increments, my supporters rose to the occasion and responded with a Facebook group of their own. A kid that I didn’t even know formed a group titled, “He Said is Why We Read The Mirror.” Battle lines had been drawn. It was a downright snap off between the Sharks and the Jets1.
The female insurgency was clearly outnumbered, but a few outspoken young ladies voiced their outrage the following week with letters to the editor:
To the editor:
Upon reading the "He Said" column this week, I was insulted. It's one thing to make light of the other sex; it's quite another to claim that "the only place for a woman on a field is the sidelines," or that women "catch STDs better than they do footballs."
Dan Stanczyk's article is not only a slap in the face to female athletes and sports enthusiasts but an insult to all women. "He Said" isn't the least bit humorous - it's degrading. Perhaps the editor doesn't realize this, but the "He Said" column - and every other article printed - reflects The Mirror in its entirety.
As such, until something is done about Stanczyk, this is one reader that The Mirror will be losing.
Sincerely,
Jennifer B '10
To the editor:
I'm writing to complain about the "He Said" column of this week's Mirror. I want to know how something like that got by the editor. I'm a tour guide and every week I encourage people to pick up a copy so that they can see just how great Fairfield students are. This week, I will not be advising them to pick up a copy. In fact, if they do I will tell them to put it down as it's not an accurate representation of our university.
I don't understand how lines like "you catch STDs better than you do footballs" were deemed worthy of page space. I've always thought of The Mirror as a great accomplishment of this University, created by students who are passionate about journalism.
This week, I was proven wrong. I've always looked forward to the "He Said/She Said" before, but this year I've been stereotyped, insulted and told that my opinion doesn't matter. It's disrespectful, and it's not entertainment. I'd like an apology and I'm not the only one that deserves one.
Sincerely,
Jennifer L '10
Were these girls right? Maybe, but I held steadfast to my belief that my sole purpose was to entertain the male undergrads. The outrage was such that The Mirror staff (advised by two journalism professors) deemed the “controversy” as a newsworthy campus issue. They assigned a frail, shaggy haired, hacky sack playing sophomore to cover the situation as a news story. I gladly sat down for an interview with this clown to tell my side of the story, but I can’t say that he was my best spokesman.
'He Said': A column of conflict
Women hate it. Class discussions have been devoted to it. It is the bane of one tour guide's existence. It is the column, "He Said."
"This time he's gone too far" is what one Facebook group had to say about the feature writer, Dan Stanczyk '08.
"He Said," which is traditionally a sharp, humorous criticism about a college-themed topic, is printed every week in the Coffee Break section of The Mirror.
Ordinarily, this sort of 'college' column is a magnet for trouble. In fact, just over a month ago, Paige Usyk, a columnist for the University of Florida's Independent Florida Alligator, had to write a piece in her own defense over a prior column about the act of hooking up.
But Stanczyk hasn't spawned disdain for writing with graphic sexual detail. Instead, his critics' main contention is that he is a bigot toward women at Fairfield. Opponents of "He Said" often reference lines such as "You [women] catch STD's better than footballs," and "Girls, if any of you wear Uggs this year, you are going to get a swift kick in the shins."
Some students, such as Brenton Roman '10, argue that Stanczyk would be in much more trouble if he were writing about any another group, be it racial or religious. "He's lucky he hasn't had his ass beat," said Roman.
Mirror Editor in Chief Stephanie Lauto '08 has so far refused calls to eliminate the column. She instead cited it as an example of free speech. "He [Stanczyk] has the right to say what he wants to say. He's protected by the First Amendment in that aspect," she said. "It's not libelous and can, therefore, legally be printed."
Lauto, who is a classmate of Stanczyk's, insisted that he does not have ill intentions. "I know from my personal experience that he's trying to provide readers with stereotypes, and he wants that backlash to see the general commentary of students on campus," she said.
An Introduction to Feminist Thought class wrote a letter to the editor. The project, entitled "We Said," argued that Stanczyk "perpetuates a chilling climate of negativity" toward women.
But Stanczyk disagrees. "I think that everyone just needs to relax a little bit and learn how to take a joke," he said. "Everything that I write isn't exactly how I feel about the situation. I'm not a male chauvinistic a**hole all the time. Every guy has that side to them, and I'm writing to guys."
In a separate interview, FUSA President Hutch Williams '08 seemed to agree with Stanczyk on that note. "The Dan that I talk to and enjoy is not the same Dan that's in 'He Said,'" said Williams. "I never hear Dan verbally saying what he writes in his column."
According to Stanczyk, he has nothing to hide. Addressing the authors of "We Said," Stanczyk said: "Why not just invite me to [speak with] the class? I'm more than willing to do that."
But individual students have been upset by the column as well. Jenn Lawlor '10, creator of the Facebook group, "He Said Sh*t," explained that she's normally open-minded about the column. "Usually, I find it humorous and entertaining, but lately, not so much," she said, adding that she enjoyed the "He Said" column that poked fun at stereotypical costumes that men wear.
Stanczyk was quick to react to Lawlor's position. "The Halloween piece made fun of guys, of course she'd think it was funny," he said.
Stanczyk expressed disagreement with feminists' arguments. "They take what I write and make bad conclusions from it," he said.
However, "He Said" is not without a fan base. The Facebook group, "He Said is Why We Read The Mirror," currently has more members than its counterpart. The group's creator, Chris Gardner '10, declined an interview for fear of being misinterpreted.
Fairfield administrators have long complained about "He Said/ She said," saying it degrades the school's image, whether read on campus or online. The Mirror has a print circulation of 4,000 and even more than that online.
As referenced in that article a “Feminist Thought” class (you couldn’t pay me enough money to take that class) spent an entire week analyzing my columns and crafting a reply. I had heard rumblings that this was going on and I was honestly intrigued about what they would say. In my mind everything that I had written could be easily defended. In fact, let me counter all of their arguments right now.
'WE said': Dissecting a misinformed 'He Said' column
The Oct. 18 "He Said" piece "Oh, the Battle of the Sexes" prompted lively debate and discussion in classrooms and dorm rooms across campus. (It sure did.)
The First Amendment right to free speech protects such articles, in part, to ensure that such lively debates happen in a democracy. We, too, want to exercise this right and add our two cents. (By all means.)
Humor is a wonderful way to convey a point, get attention and give us all a good laugh. Yet, why is it funny to give girls who wear Uggs "a swift kick in the shins," or, better yet, to throw a brick at the faces of the "little princesses?" (Ask just about every guy on campus.)
Women are further stigmatized by this comment through its connection to "bitch," a term which is too often hurled at women on this campus and in society to make them objects or less than human. (I never used this word. I’m a classy guy.) We wonder if such statements would be funny if they were aimed at a man's sister or mother. (My sisters read my column every week and thought it was hysterical.)
Joking about this kind of physical violence toward women is a small example of a larger problem. It makes light of the fact that one in four women in the United States and across the globe experience physical violence carried out by men they know. (Are we serious?)
The innuendos surrounding alcohol and date rape, the attack of female sexual independence and male sexual dominance are not taken with the humor that was intended.
We, instead, see it as supporting sexually violent acts against women. (You’ve got to be kidding.) Buying Jagerbombs as a means of finding a girl to "round the bases" with for the night lacks both originality and taste. Is this really a laughing matter? (Actually the way you put it is not funny. The way I wrote it was.)
This week we took our "bad asses to the gym" only to find women, not men, making up the majority of people in the exercise classes. (BREAKING NEWS ALERT: More women take exercising classes than men. What a joke.) This reveals something about female attitudes toward body image.
Flippant comments such as, "the gym is open until 11," have the power of giving someone an eating disorder, a problem that is undeniably prevalent on this campus. (Alllllright. If I have the power to cause girls to develop eating disorders then women are a lot more insecure than I thought.) Thinking back, these remarks make us hot with rage, or maybe that's just our Uggs causing our bodies to overheat.
Let's get a few things clear. We, and numerous other young women on this campus, acknowledge that there are men who share these same opinions. (You’re damn right.) But to represent them in such a fashion is inappropriate and, to some degree, portrays our University in a damaging manner to those who do not know us.
Above all, Dan Stanczyk's article epitomizes the flaw in female stereotypes. (Stereotypes exist because they are largely true). It also reinforces women as an inferior race and perpetuates a chilling climate of negativity. We'll be sure to keep this article in mind and discuss it with others as we do a round of shots with our girlfriends at the bar.
Don't worry, we'll buy them ourselves. No need to offer. (Good. I hope your vibrators treat you well.)
Sincerely,
Jennifer A '09; Daria A '09; Rebecca B '10; Jocelyn M. Boryczka, assistant professor of politics, director of peace and justice studies; Megan C '09; Kelley F '09; Connie G '09; Shawn H '10; Michelle H '08; Kristina J '08; Danielle M '09; Danielle M '10; Elizabeth M '09; Marie M '08; Victoria P '10; Corinne P '10; Chelsea R '10; Allison R '08; Julie R '10.
The editor in chief of The Mirror was also in that class, but she left her name off of the Declaration of Discordance because she decided to write a column of her own. Can you say hot button topic?
The editor strikes back:
Walking to class every Thursday, I feel somewhat relieved and proud: The Mirror comes out today. I pick up a copy and stare at the front page, delighted that the staff's hard work and long hours have come to fruition.
Then I notice that many who are browsing through the paper aren't reading the professor profiles, the CD reviews or the latest sports scores; they're reading Dan Stanczyk's "He Said" column.
Some are reciting specific lines and laughing with friends, but others are visibly angry. Whether it be because of the references to women not being athletic or the less-than-subtle sexual allusions, men and women in this community are clearly upset.
I'm here to tell you that these reactions have not gone unnoticed. But I'll also say that hostility, which some students have verbally employed, is not the answer. Write some nasty comments on our Web site, call me an inadequate editor for letting these columns be printed, and I will surely ignore you.
Anyone who knows me knows that I can hold a conversation for hours, especially on topics about which I am passionate - The Mirror is one of them. Want to ask me why this column is printed? The Mirror office is on the lower level of the BCC, and I'm in there constantly. It's easy enough to write a letter to the editor with a faceless byline, but it takes real gall to confront someone in person.
Mondays and Tuesdays are our layout and editing nights; stop by and talk to the staff. It's unfortunate that not one person has done that thus far.
"He Said/She Said" appears in Coffee Break where it is intended to entertain. It does not represent the general opinion of our newspaper, which is why the byline reads "Dan Stanczyk" instead of "The Mirror." Unlike news stories, He Said is not a specimen of in-depth research and reporting. But for your reading pleasure, I've done some research of my own.
In the Dec. 2, 2004 Mirror, He Said cites an "influx of hate mail regarding He Said's alleged 'objectification of women.'" The same He Said wrote such lines as, "Possible things that could improve [dates] are threesomes, joining a swingers club, handcuffs, whipped cream, placing a video camera in the bedroom, and/or exhibitionism" in the Nov. 11, 2004 edition. The issue of objectifying women, while very important and in need of change, is nothing new.
Do I always agree with Stanczyk's repartee? No. There are plenty of intelligent, athletic women at this University. And truth be told, if Stanczyk wanted to silence any woman with a muzzle, it'd be me; I'm not afraid to speak my mind.
But just because I don't agree with his points does not mean that I should single-handedly prevent it from being printed, nor does it mean that students should stop reading the newspaper as many have threatened. Doing so blatantly ignores the efforts your peers put into producing this publication, including my own.
I acknowledge that recent "He Said" columns can be considered offensive to women, and I don't advocate such writing. However, my instinct as a journalist tells me that censorship is not to be taken lightly. If every editor removed controversial content, newspapers wouldn't exist.
Speaking to the critics: In all of your ranting, did you ever stop to consider who I am? I'm a senior in college who is learning the ropes of journalism, not a Pulitzer Prize winner. I've been editor in chief of The Mirror for approximately 10 weeks, not 10 years. When I'm not at The Mirror, I'm hanging out at the beach and enjoying my last year at Fairfield. It is ridiculous to assume that I am the authority on journalistic integrity, but I'm working hard to get there.
Care to chat? My office is almost always open. If not, leave a message.
Now like I said, I had heard that this “We Said” article was on the horizon. Plenty of people were sure to give me the heads up that it would be printed right underneath my column. Knowing this, I decided that it would be in my best interest to write a column that didn’t objectify women. It would just look bad if I validated their assertions on the same page. Therefore I came up with the idea to write about bout the bonding experience that an entire floor experiences when sharing a bathroom. Jackie wasn’t too wild about the topic, but I sold her on it by explaining how interesting it was that most of our closest friends were people we met on our floor freshmen year.
The Mirror on November 7th, 2007
Dorm bathrooms
Sharing a bathroom with twenty guys is a bonding experience like none other. The tiled floor is like its own military zone that is both protected and destroyed on a regular basis. Trust me when I tell you that you did not want to mess with the Jogues second floor battalion of the class of 2008.
Of course many different types of weaponry were routinely used.
The most common of which, bombs, were dropped at an alarming frequency. Sometimes a soldier would drop upwards of six in one day. This kind of valor was worthy of the medal of honor.
Another popular weapon in the arsenal was vomit laced with shrapnel. Of course these bombs didn’t always reach their targets, but when they fell short they served as land mines.
The unbearable smell that resulted led to the distance between the showers and the stalls serving as something of a No Man’s Land. The combination of stink bombs and vomit was bad enough, but when you added someone’s cologne it was like tear gas had been unleashed.
Even during peace time (when no bombs were being dropped) the bathroom served as a nuclear testing site with all of the wads of toilet paper that were stuck to the ceiling.
Thankfully this type of ammunition was replaced on a regular basis by the maintenance man who also cleared the battlefield daily. I still wonder what was going through his head the day he walked in and a shower door and a sink lay dead on the floor.
I wouldn’t call it friendly fire, but when someone interrupted you at the urinal a little gun trouble occasionally ensued. This was a troubling experience, but as long as your gun could fire later in the evening everything was alright. That is of course if you hadn’t used all your ammo earlier in the day.
I’ll never forget the time someone had a prisoner of war, a girl, with them in the shower. Seemingly everyone on the floor randomly went to observe the enemy combatant. More people knew about that than the time Japanese fighting fish tangoed in the sink.
With girls living on the other side of the floor, a stray boyfriend would randomly invade our home base. This guerilla warfare was not easy to keep track of, but unfortunately for these phantom shitters they did not have a trap door to escape down.
Just like any other war, if you made it out alive you had stories to tell for the rest of your life.
1 West Side Story (1961) anyone?↩
As always, your thoughts, comments, criticisms, etc. are encouraged. Also, because the majority of the words in this chapter are not my own I may unveil Chapter 10 later this month.
Chapter 9
Only hours after my column about how girls and sports don’t mix was published I received a vicious Facebook message from a perturbed “sports fan”. She started her message by saying, “In regards to your latest pile of bullshit in The Mirror, I would like to say that you are a disgrace to boys everywhere.” She followed up that diatribe with an attempt to validate her sports knowledge and then to top things off she formed a Facebook group titled “He Said Sh*t”.
As angered females across campus joined this group in slow increments, my supporters rose to the occasion and responded with a Facebook group of their own. A kid that I didn’t even know formed a group titled, “He Said is Why We Read The Mirror.” Battle lines had been drawn. It was a downright snap off between the Sharks and the Jets1.
The female insurgency was clearly outnumbered, but a few outspoken young ladies voiced their outrage the following week with letters to the editor:
To the editor:
Upon reading the "He Said" column this week, I was insulted. It's one thing to make light of the other sex; it's quite another to claim that "the only place for a woman on a field is the sidelines," or that women "catch STDs better than they do footballs."
Dan Stanczyk's article is not only a slap in the face to female athletes and sports enthusiasts but an insult to all women. "He Said" isn't the least bit humorous - it's degrading. Perhaps the editor doesn't realize this, but the "He Said" column - and every other article printed - reflects The Mirror in its entirety.
As such, until something is done about Stanczyk, this is one reader that The Mirror will be losing.
Sincerely,
Jennifer B '10
To the editor:
I'm writing to complain about the "He Said" column of this week's Mirror. I want to know how something like that got by the editor. I'm a tour guide and every week I encourage people to pick up a copy so that they can see just how great Fairfield students are. This week, I will not be advising them to pick up a copy. In fact, if they do I will tell them to put it down as it's not an accurate representation of our university.
I don't understand how lines like "you catch STDs better than you do footballs" were deemed worthy of page space. I've always thought of The Mirror as a great accomplishment of this University, created by students who are passionate about journalism.
This week, I was proven wrong. I've always looked forward to the "He Said/She Said" before, but this year I've been stereotyped, insulted and told that my opinion doesn't matter. It's disrespectful, and it's not entertainment. I'd like an apology and I'm not the only one that deserves one.
Sincerely,
Jennifer L '10
Were these girls right? Maybe, but I held steadfast to my belief that my sole purpose was to entertain the male undergrads. The outrage was such that The Mirror staff (advised by two journalism professors) deemed the “controversy” as a newsworthy campus issue. They assigned a frail, shaggy haired, hacky sack playing sophomore to cover the situation as a news story. I gladly sat down for an interview with this clown to tell my side of the story, but I can’t say that he was my best spokesman.
'He Said': A column of conflict
Women hate it. Class discussions have been devoted to it. It is the bane of one tour guide's existence. It is the column, "He Said."
"This time he's gone too far" is what one Facebook group had to say about the feature writer, Dan Stanczyk '08.
"He Said," which is traditionally a sharp, humorous criticism about a college-themed topic, is printed every week in the Coffee Break section of The Mirror.
Ordinarily, this sort of 'college' column is a magnet for trouble. In fact, just over a month ago, Paige Usyk, a columnist for the University of Florida's Independent Florida Alligator, had to write a piece in her own defense over a prior column about the act of hooking up.
But Stanczyk hasn't spawned disdain for writing with graphic sexual detail. Instead, his critics' main contention is that he is a bigot toward women at Fairfield. Opponents of "He Said" often reference lines such as "You [women] catch STD's better than footballs," and "Girls, if any of you wear Uggs this year, you are going to get a swift kick in the shins."
Some students, such as Brenton Roman '10, argue that Stanczyk would be in much more trouble if he were writing about any another group, be it racial or religious. "He's lucky he hasn't had his ass beat," said Roman.
Mirror Editor in Chief Stephanie Lauto '08 has so far refused calls to eliminate the column. She instead cited it as an example of free speech. "He [Stanczyk] has the right to say what he wants to say. He's protected by the First Amendment in that aspect," she said. "It's not libelous and can, therefore, legally be printed."
Lauto, who is a classmate of Stanczyk's, insisted that he does not have ill intentions. "I know from my personal experience that he's trying to provide readers with stereotypes, and he wants that backlash to see the general commentary of students on campus," she said.
An Introduction to Feminist Thought class wrote a letter to the editor. The project, entitled "We Said," argued that Stanczyk "perpetuates a chilling climate of negativity" toward women.
But Stanczyk disagrees. "I think that everyone just needs to relax a little bit and learn how to take a joke," he said. "Everything that I write isn't exactly how I feel about the situation. I'm not a male chauvinistic a**hole all the time. Every guy has that side to them, and I'm writing to guys."
In a separate interview, FUSA President Hutch Williams '08 seemed to agree with Stanczyk on that note. "The Dan that I talk to and enjoy is not the same Dan that's in 'He Said,'" said Williams. "I never hear Dan verbally saying what he writes in his column."
According to Stanczyk, he has nothing to hide. Addressing the authors of "We Said," Stanczyk said: "Why not just invite me to [speak with] the class? I'm more than willing to do that."
But individual students have been upset by the column as well. Jenn Lawlor '10, creator of the Facebook group, "He Said Sh*t," explained that she's normally open-minded about the column. "Usually, I find it humorous and entertaining, but lately, not so much," she said, adding that she enjoyed the "He Said" column that poked fun at stereotypical costumes that men wear.
Stanczyk was quick to react to Lawlor's position. "The Halloween piece made fun of guys, of course she'd think it was funny," he said.
Stanczyk expressed disagreement with feminists' arguments. "They take what I write and make bad conclusions from it," he said.
However, "He Said" is not without a fan base. The Facebook group, "He Said is Why We Read The Mirror," currently has more members than its counterpart. The group's creator, Chris Gardner '10, declined an interview for fear of being misinterpreted.
Fairfield administrators have long complained about "He Said/ She said," saying it degrades the school's image, whether read on campus or online. The Mirror has a print circulation of 4,000 and even more than that online.
As referenced in that article a “Feminist Thought” class (you couldn’t pay me enough money to take that class) spent an entire week analyzing my columns and crafting a reply. I had heard rumblings that this was going on and I was honestly intrigued about what they would say. In my mind everything that I had written could be easily defended. In fact, let me counter all of their arguments right now.
'WE said': Dissecting a misinformed 'He Said' column
The Oct. 18 "He Said" piece "Oh, the Battle of the Sexes" prompted lively debate and discussion in classrooms and dorm rooms across campus. (It sure did.)
The First Amendment right to free speech protects such articles, in part, to ensure that such lively debates happen in a democracy. We, too, want to exercise this right and add our two cents. (By all means.)
Humor is a wonderful way to convey a point, get attention and give us all a good laugh. Yet, why is it funny to give girls who wear Uggs "a swift kick in the shins," or, better yet, to throw a brick at the faces of the "little princesses?" (Ask just about every guy on campus.)
Women are further stigmatized by this comment through its connection to "bitch," a term which is too often hurled at women on this campus and in society to make them objects or less than human. (I never used this word. I’m a classy guy.) We wonder if such statements would be funny if they were aimed at a man's sister or mother. (My sisters read my column every week and thought it was hysterical.)
Joking about this kind of physical violence toward women is a small example of a larger problem. It makes light of the fact that one in four women in the United States and across the globe experience physical violence carried out by men they know. (Are we serious?)
The innuendos surrounding alcohol and date rape, the attack of female sexual independence and male sexual dominance are not taken with the humor that was intended.
We, instead, see it as supporting sexually violent acts against women. (You’ve got to be kidding.) Buying Jagerbombs as a means of finding a girl to "round the bases" with for the night lacks both originality and taste. Is this really a laughing matter? (Actually the way you put it is not funny. The way I wrote it was.)
This week we took our "bad asses to the gym" only to find women, not men, making up the majority of people in the exercise classes. (BREAKING NEWS ALERT: More women take exercising classes than men. What a joke.) This reveals something about female attitudes toward body image.
Flippant comments such as, "the gym is open until 11," have the power of giving someone an eating disorder, a problem that is undeniably prevalent on this campus. (Alllllright. If I have the power to cause girls to develop eating disorders then women are a lot more insecure than I thought.) Thinking back, these remarks make us hot with rage, or maybe that's just our Uggs causing our bodies to overheat.
Let's get a few things clear. We, and numerous other young women on this campus, acknowledge that there are men who share these same opinions. (You’re damn right.) But to represent them in such a fashion is inappropriate and, to some degree, portrays our University in a damaging manner to those who do not know us.
Above all, Dan Stanczyk's article epitomizes the flaw in female stereotypes. (Stereotypes exist because they are largely true). It also reinforces women as an inferior race and perpetuates a chilling climate of negativity. We'll be sure to keep this article in mind and discuss it with others as we do a round of shots with our girlfriends at the bar.
Don't worry, we'll buy them ourselves. No need to offer. (Good. I hope your vibrators treat you well.)
Sincerely,
Jennifer A '09; Daria A '09; Rebecca B '10; Jocelyn M. Boryczka, assistant professor of politics, director of peace and justice studies; Megan C '09; Kelley F '09; Connie G '09; Shawn H '10; Michelle H '08; Kristina J '08; Danielle M '09; Danielle M '10; Elizabeth M '09; Marie M '08; Victoria P '10; Corinne P '10; Chelsea R '10; Allison R '08; Julie R '10.
The editor in chief of The Mirror was also in that class, but she left her name off of the Declaration of Discordance because she decided to write a column of her own. Can you say hot button topic?
The editor strikes back:
Walking to class every Thursday, I feel somewhat relieved and proud: The Mirror comes out today. I pick up a copy and stare at the front page, delighted that the staff's hard work and long hours have come to fruition.
Then I notice that many who are browsing through the paper aren't reading the professor profiles, the CD reviews or the latest sports scores; they're reading Dan Stanczyk's "He Said" column.
Some are reciting specific lines and laughing with friends, but others are visibly angry. Whether it be because of the references to women not being athletic or the less-than-subtle sexual allusions, men and women in this community are clearly upset.
I'm here to tell you that these reactions have not gone unnoticed. But I'll also say that hostility, which some students have verbally employed, is not the answer. Write some nasty comments on our Web site, call me an inadequate editor for letting these columns be printed, and I will surely ignore you.
Anyone who knows me knows that I can hold a conversation for hours, especially on topics about which I am passionate - The Mirror is one of them. Want to ask me why this column is printed? The Mirror office is on the lower level of the BCC, and I'm in there constantly. It's easy enough to write a letter to the editor with a faceless byline, but it takes real gall to confront someone in person.
Mondays and Tuesdays are our layout and editing nights; stop by and talk to the staff. It's unfortunate that not one person has done that thus far.
"He Said/She Said" appears in Coffee Break where it is intended to entertain. It does not represent the general opinion of our newspaper, which is why the byline reads "Dan Stanczyk" instead of "The Mirror." Unlike news stories, He Said is not a specimen of in-depth research and reporting. But for your reading pleasure, I've done some research of my own.
In the Dec. 2, 2004 Mirror, He Said cites an "influx of hate mail regarding He Said's alleged 'objectification of women.'" The same He Said wrote such lines as, "Possible things that could improve [dates] are threesomes, joining a swingers club, handcuffs, whipped cream, placing a video camera in the bedroom, and/or exhibitionism" in the Nov. 11, 2004 edition. The issue of objectifying women, while very important and in need of change, is nothing new.
Do I always agree with Stanczyk's repartee? No. There are plenty of intelligent, athletic women at this University. And truth be told, if Stanczyk wanted to silence any woman with a muzzle, it'd be me; I'm not afraid to speak my mind.
But just because I don't agree with his points does not mean that I should single-handedly prevent it from being printed, nor does it mean that students should stop reading the newspaper as many have threatened. Doing so blatantly ignores the efforts your peers put into producing this publication, including my own.
I acknowledge that recent "He Said" columns can be considered offensive to women, and I don't advocate such writing. However, my instinct as a journalist tells me that censorship is not to be taken lightly. If every editor removed controversial content, newspapers wouldn't exist.
Speaking to the critics: In all of your ranting, did you ever stop to consider who I am? I'm a senior in college who is learning the ropes of journalism, not a Pulitzer Prize winner. I've been editor in chief of The Mirror for approximately 10 weeks, not 10 years. When I'm not at The Mirror, I'm hanging out at the beach and enjoying my last year at Fairfield. It is ridiculous to assume that I am the authority on journalistic integrity, but I'm working hard to get there.
Care to chat? My office is almost always open. If not, leave a message.
Now like I said, I had heard that this “We Said” article was on the horizon. Plenty of people were sure to give me the heads up that it would be printed right underneath my column. Knowing this, I decided that it would be in my best interest to write a column that didn’t objectify women. It would just look bad if I validated their assertions on the same page. Therefore I came up with the idea to write about bout the bonding experience that an entire floor experiences when sharing a bathroom. Jackie wasn’t too wild about the topic, but I sold her on it by explaining how interesting it was that most of our closest friends were people we met on our floor freshmen year.
The Mirror on November 7th, 2007
Dorm bathrooms
Sharing a bathroom with twenty guys is a bonding experience like none other. The tiled floor is like its own military zone that is both protected and destroyed on a regular basis. Trust me when I tell you that you did not want to mess with the Jogues second floor battalion of the class of 2008.
Of course many different types of weaponry were routinely used.
The most common of which, bombs, were dropped at an alarming frequency. Sometimes a soldier would drop upwards of six in one day. This kind of valor was worthy of the medal of honor.
Another popular weapon in the arsenal was vomit laced with shrapnel. Of course these bombs didn’t always reach their targets, but when they fell short they served as land mines.
The unbearable smell that resulted led to the distance between the showers and the stalls serving as something of a No Man’s Land. The combination of stink bombs and vomit was bad enough, but when you added someone’s cologne it was like tear gas had been unleashed.
Even during peace time (when no bombs were being dropped) the bathroom served as a nuclear testing site with all of the wads of toilet paper that were stuck to the ceiling.
Thankfully this type of ammunition was replaced on a regular basis by the maintenance man who also cleared the battlefield daily. I still wonder what was going through his head the day he walked in and a shower door and a sink lay dead on the floor.
I wouldn’t call it friendly fire, but when someone interrupted you at the urinal a little gun trouble occasionally ensued. This was a troubling experience, but as long as your gun could fire later in the evening everything was alright. That is of course if you hadn’t used all your ammo earlier in the day.
I’ll never forget the time someone had a prisoner of war, a girl, with them in the shower. Seemingly everyone on the floor randomly went to observe the enemy combatant. More people knew about that than the time Japanese fighting fish tangoed in the sink.
With girls living on the other side of the floor, a stray boyfriend would randomly invade our home base. This guerilla warfare was not easy to keep track of, but unfortunately for these phantom shitters they did not have a trap door to escape down.
Just like any other war, if you made it out alive you had stories to tell for the rest of your life.
1 West Side Story (1961) anyone?↩
As always, your thoughts, comments, criticisms, etc. are encouraged. Also, because the majority of the words in this chapter are not my own I may unveil Chapter 10 later this month.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The King's Throne
Over the weekend Miami Heat forward LeBron James was awarded with his 3rd NBA Regular Season MVP award. Only seven other players in NBA history have accomplished that feat. LeBron is only 27, so I imagine that he might win a few more. The biggest difference between LeBron and the seven other 3 time MVPs is that they’ve all won at least one NBA title. That said, I still think LeBron ranks pretty favorably all time as his career stands right now.
To adequately assess LeBron’s place in NBA history we’ll use The Book of Basketball written by ESPN.Com/Grantland.Com columnist Bill Simmons. He knows a lot more about the NBA than I do, so I’m comfortable using his rankings even though I disagree with a few of them.
LeBron was ranked 20th back when the book came out in 2009. Simmons wrote, “A dopey ranking for obvious reasons: he’s twenty-three and headed for the top-eight (possibly higher) in the The Second Book of Basketball, which should be released somewhere between 2016 and 2018 after my wife leaves me and I need a quick influx of cash.”
I know LeBron hasn’t won a title yet (just wait about a month and that might change), but he’s unquestionably the best player in the world. He took an absolute dogshit Cavs team to the finals in 2007. Aside from LeBron that team featured Eric Snow, Larry Hughes, Drew Gooden, Big Z, Varejao, and Daniel Gibson.
I think that LeBron, at the very minimum, ranks 14th all time right now. Here are the players that currently rank ahead of him.
1.) Michael Jordan- 6 time NBA champion, 6 time NBA Finals MVP, 14 time All-Star, 5 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 10 times, All Defensive First Team 9 times, NBA Defensive Player of the Year (1988), 10 time scoring champ (7 consecutive), starred in Space Jam (1996)
Career averages- 30.1 points, 6.2 rebounds, 5.3 assists
2.) Bill Russell- 11 time NBA champion (they didn’t give out the NBA Finals MVP Award until 1969), 12 time All-Star, 5 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 3 times, 5 time rebounding champ, was awarded the presidential medal for freedom (the highest award a civilian can receive)
Career averages- 15.1 points, 22.5 rebounds, 4.3 assists
3.) Kareem Abdul Jabbar- 6 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 19 time All-Star, 6 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 10 times, All Defensive First Team 5 times, 2 time scoring champ, 2 time rebounding champ, 4 time blocks champ, NBA’s All-Time leading scorer, starred in Airplane (1980)
Career averages- 24.6 points, 11.2 rebounds, 2.5 blocks
4.) Magic Johnson-5 time NBA Champion, 3 time NBA Finals MVP, 12 time All-Star, 3 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, 4 time assists champ, 2 time steals champ, is HIV positive
Career averages- 19.5 points, 11.2 assists, 7.2 rebounds
5.) Larry Bird- 3 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 12 time All-Star, 3 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, All Defensive First Team 2 times, dominated the first ever 3-point contest with his warm-ups still on
Career averages- 24.3 points, 10.0 rebounds, and 6.3 assists
6.) Wilt Chamberlain- 2 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 13 time All-Star, 4 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 7 times, All Defensive First Team 2 times, 7 time scoring champ, 11 time rebounding champ, 1 time assists champ, NBA’s All-Time leading rebounder, scored 100 points in a game, slept with over 20,000 different women
Career averages- 30.1 points, 22.9 rebounds, 4.4 assists
7.) Kobe Bryant*- 5 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 14 time All-Star, 1 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, All NBA Defensive First Team 9 times, 2 time scoring champ, allegedly sexually assaulted a hostess in a Colorado hotel (we all know it was just consensual sex though)
Career averages- 25.4 points, 5.3 rebounds, 4.7 assists
*Simmons had Kobe at #15 in his book, but wrote in the epilogue wrote the following because the Kobe’s Lakers won the title in 2009, “For the paperback I’m expanding the Pyramid to 13 and sticking Kobe at No.8. And you know what? Duncan’s No. 7 spot isn’t safe. Let’s see how the next few years play out.” Well Kobe went on to win another title and Finals MVP in 2010, so I think it’s safe to bump him past The Big Fundamental. Everyone else listed will obviously now drop down a spot from where they were when the book was first published.
8.) Tim Duncan- 4 time NBA champion, 3 time NBA Finals MVP, 13 time All-Star, 2 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, All Defensive First Team 8 times, has never committed a foul in his career and gets fouled on every shot attempt in the paint
Career averages- 20.3 points, 11.3 rebounds, 2.2 blocks
9.) Jerry West- 1 time NBA champion, 1 time NBA Finals MVP (in a series his team lost), 14 time All-Star, All NBA First Team 10 times, All Defensive First Team 4 times, 1 time scoring champ, 1 time assists champ, the NBA logo was modeled after him, Nicknamed Mr. Clutch even though his team lost 8 of the 9 times they went to the Finals
Career averages- 27.0 points, 6.7 assists, 5.8 rebounds
10.) Oscar Robertson- 1 time NBA champion, 12 time All-Star, 1 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, nicknamed "The Big O" which is pretty cool
Career averages- 25.7 points, 7.5 rebounds, 9.5 assists
11.) Hakeem Olajuwon- 2 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 12 time All-Star, 1 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 6 times, All Defensive First Team 5 times, 2 time NBA Defensive Player of the Year, 2 time rebound champ, 3 time blocks champ, only won his titles because MJ had retired
Career averages- 21.8 points, 11.1 rebounds, 3.1 blocks
12.) Shaquille O’Neal- 4 time NBA Champion, 3 time NBA Finals MVP, 15 time All-Star, 1 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 8 times, 2 time scoring champ, has a doctorate degree from Barry University
Career averages- 23.7 points, 10.9 rebounds, 2.3 blocks
13.) Moses Malone- 1 time NBA champion, 1 time NBA Finals MVP, 12 time All-Star, 3 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 4 times, All Defensive Team 1 time, 6 time rebounding champ
Career averages- 20.6 points, 12.2 rebounds, 1.3 blocks
Notice that all of those players won at least one NBA Championship. That’s the only thing missing from LeBron’s resume.
LeBron James- 8 time All-Star, 3 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 6 times*, All Defensive First Team 4 times*, 1 time scoring champ, nicknamed himself King James, the only thing that moves faster than LBJ on a fast break is his receding hairline
*LeBron hasn’t officially been named to the All NBA First Team and the All Defensive First Team for the 2011-12 season, but let’s be real here. He’s going to.
Career averages- 27.6 points, 7.2 rebounds, 6.9 assists
If the Heat win the title this year I think that vaults LeBron past Jerry West to #9 all time.
I guess my point is this. Instead of bashing LeBron every time the Heat lose, you should embrace his incredible skill and talent.
To adequately assess LeBron’s place in NBA history we’ll use The Book of Basketball written by ESPN.Com/Grantland.Com columnist Bill Simmons. He knows a lot more about the NBA than I do, so I’m comfortable using his rankings even though I disagree with a few of them.
LeBron was ranked 20th back when the book came out in 2009. Simmons wrote, “A dopey ranking for obvious reasons: he’s twenty-three and headed for the top-eight (possibly higher) in the The Second Book of Basketball, which should be released somewhere between 2016 and 2018 after my wife leaves me and I need a quick influx of cash.”
I know LeBron hasn’t won a title yet (just wait about a month and that might change), but he’s unquestionably the best player in the world. He took an absolute dogshit Cavs team to the finals in 2007. Aside from LeBron that team featured Eric Snow, Larry Hughes, Drew Gooden, Big Z, Varejao, and Daniel Gibson.
I think that LeBron, at the very minimum, ranks 14th all time right now. Here are the players that currently rank ahead of him.
1.) Michael Jordan- 6 time NBA champion, 6 time NBA Finals MVP, 14 time All-Star, 5 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 10 times, All Defensive First Team 9 times, NBA Defensive Player of the Year (1988), 10 time scoring champ (7 consecutive), starred in Space Jam (1996)
Career averages- 30.1 points, 6.2 rebounds, 5.3 assists
2.) Bill Russell- 11 time NBA champion (they didn’t give out the NBA Finals MVP Award until 1969), 12 time All-Star, 5 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 3 times, 5 time rebounding champ, was awarded the presidential medal for freedom (the highest award a civilian can receive)
Career averages- 15.1 points, 22.5 rebounds, 4.3 assists
3.) Kareem Abdul Jabbar- 6 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 19 time All-Star, 6 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 10 times, All Defensive First Team 5 times, 2 time scoring champ, 2 time rebounding champ, 4 time blocks champ, NBA’s All-Time leading scorer, starred in Airplane (1980)
Career averages- 24.6 points, 11.2 rebounds, 2.5 blocks
4.) Magic Johnson-5 time NBA Champion, 3 time NBA Finals MVP, 12 time All-Star, 3 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, 4 time assists champ, 2 time steals champ, is HIV positive
Career averages- 19.5 points, 11.2 assists, 7.2 rebounds
5.) Larry Bird- 3 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 12 time All-Star, 3 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, All Defensive First Team 2 times, dominated the first ever 3-point contest with his warm-ups still on
Career averages- 24.3 points, 10.0 rebounds, and 6.3 assists
6.) Wilt Chamberlain- 2 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 13 time All-Star, 4 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 7 times, All Defensive First Team 2 times, 7 time scoring champ, 11 time rebounding champ, 1 time assists champ, NBA’s All-Time leading rebounder, scored 100 points in a game, slept with over 20,000 different women
Career averages- 30.1 points, 22.9 rebounds, 4.4 assists
7.) Kobe Bryant*- 5 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 14 time All-Star, 1 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, All NBA Defensive First Team 9 times, 2 time scoring champ, allegedly sexually assaulted a hostess in a Colorado hotel (we all know it was just consensual sex though)
Career averages- 25.4 points, 5.3 rebounds, 4.7 assists
*Simmons had Kobe at #15 in his book, but wrote in the epilogue wrote the following because the Kobe’s Lakers won the title in 2009, “For the paperback I’m expanding the Pyramid to 13 and sticking Kobe at No.8. And you know what? Duncan’s No. 7 spot isn’t safe. Let’s see how the next few years play out.” Well Kobe went on to win another title and Finals MVP in 2010, so I think it’s safe to bump him past The Big Fundamental. Everyone else listed will obviously now drop down a spot from where they were when the book was first published.
8.) Tim Duncan- 4 time NBA champion, 3 time NBA Finals MVP, 13 time All-Star, 2 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, All Defensive First Team 8 times, has never committed a foul in his career and gets fouled on every shot attempt in the paint
Career averages- 20.3 points, 11.3 rebounds, 2.2 blocks
9.) Jerry West- 1 time NBA champion, 1 time NBA Finals MVP (in a series his team lost), 14 time All-Star, All NBA First Team 10 times, All Defensive First Team 4 times, 1 time scoring champ, 1 time assists champ, the NBA logo was modeled after him, Nicknamed Mr. Clutch even though his team lost 8 of the 9 times they went to the Finals
Career averages- 27.0 points, 6.7 assists, 5.8 rebounds
10.) Oscar Robertson- 1 time NBA champion, 12 time All-Star, 1 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 9 times, nicknamed "The Big O" which is pretty cool
Career averages- 25.7 points, 7.5 rebounds, 9.5 assists
11.) Hakeem Olajuwon- 2 time NBA champion, 2 time NBA Finals MVP, 12 time All-Star, 1 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 6 times, All Defensive First Team 5 times, 2 time NBA Defensive Player of the Year, 2 time rebound champ, 3 time blocks champ, only won his titles because MJ had retired
Career averages- 21.8 points, 11.1 rebounds, 3.1 blocks
12.) Shaquille O’Neal- 4 time NBA Champion, 3 time NBA Finals MVP, 15 time All-Star, 1 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 8 times, 2 time scoring champ, has a doctorate degree from Barry University
Career averages- 23.7 points, 10.9 rebounds, 2.3 blocks
13.) Moses Malone- 1 time NBA champion, 1 time NBA Finals MVP, 12 time All-Star, 3 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 4 times, All Defensive Team 1 time, 6 time rebounding champ
Career averages- 20.6 points, 12.2 rebounds, 1.3 blocks
Notice that all of those players won at least one NBA Championship. That’s the only thing missing from LeBron’s resume.
LeBron James- 8 time All-Star, 3 time NBA Regular Season MVP, All NBA First Team 6 times*, All Defensive First Team 4 times*, 1 time scoring champ, nicknamed himself King James, the only thing that moves faster than LBJ on a fast break is his receding hairline
*LeBron hasn’t officially been named to the All NBA First Team and the All Defensive First Team for the 2011-12 season, but let’s be real here. He’s going to.
Career averages- 27.6 points, 7.2 rebounds, 6.9 assists
If the Heat win the title this year I think that vaults LeBron past Jerry West to #9 all time.
I guess my point is this. Instead of bashing LeBron every time the Heat lose, you should embrace his incredible skill and talent.
Friday, May 4, 2012
That's What He Said- Chapter 8
One of the many hallowed traditions of living at the beach during senior year at Fairfield U is the powderpuff tournament. Every year the girls that live at the beach form flag football teams with whatever other group of girls they are friends with that week (usually two to three beach houses form one team), get hammered, and attempt to show some semblance of athleticism. It’s basically a day of debauchery for everyone involved, but some girls take it very seriously.
I guess this shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise seeing that girls in college don’t really have an outlet for this kind of thing. Where guys have intramural flag football, pickup basketball, video games, beer pong, etc. girls have nothing. I mean, I guess they get competitive when it comes to who can wear the least amount of clothing in public and who can hook up with what guy, but it’s definitely not the same. Also, girls rarely, if ever, get the chance to display physical aggression. Powderpuff provides this opportunity and some girls make the most of it. If there’s a girl that they don’t like, for whatever reason, they can literally go after them during the game and as long as it occurs within the field of play it’s deemed acceptable.
After deciding which other group of girls they want to join up with, the next step for powderpuff teams is to pick a coach. Girls admittedly know very little about football, so they need someone to guide them through the process. During my senior year most teams just picked a random collection of their boyfriends to coach their squads, but other teams looked elsewhere. Not surprisingly two teams vied for my services almost immediately.
I was a coveted coach because of my extensive sports knowledge, or at least that’s what my ego told me. People just knew that I was a sports nut. Whether they knew that I had my own sports talk radio show (unlikely, but I can dream) or just knew that I was an intramural supervisor, my sports fanaticism preceded me1.
I was first asked to coach a powderpuff team by my smart, funny, and attractive friend Kate. She was from Maryland, ran miles in bunches, wrote for The Mirror, and shared a room with Kristen. Her personality was intoxicating in that it was hard not to have fun when you were with her. Kate and Kristen’s house (The Jackpot) had formed a team with Jackie’s house (The Bunny) and I knew all of the girls fairly well, so in my attempt to play hard to get I told her that I would think about it.
Hours later I was asked to coach a team led by my fellow intramural supervisor and friend Rebecca (the girl that Matty K was obsessed with junior year). She was tall, athletic, and quite possibly the nicest person on the planet. No matter what she was positive, thoughtful, and genuinely interested in the well being of just about everyone she knew. She also served as the de facto documenter of our class because of her picture taking habit. I swear, she must have taken well over 2,000 pictures during the course of the year. Rebecca and her housemates had formed a team with two other houses (one of which was Alyssa’s). I knew most of those girls as well, so I told Rebecca that I would consider her proposal, but that I had a few other offers on the table.
After much deliberation and talent evaluation, I decided to coach Kate’s team for the following three reasons (in order). 1.) They asked me first 2.) I didn’t want to coach Alyssa because I thought it might be a weird dynamic because we were hooking up (What if she was bad? Would I feel inclined to play her a lot just because we were hooking up?), and 3.) Coaching Kate’s team would give me the chance to spend more time with Kristen.
My main advantage as a coach, aside from my brilliant offensive mind (there goes the ego again), was my access to the rec plex and the flag football equipment. Other coaches just found a football and picked random times to meet in the park across the street from many of the beach houses on Reef Road (where the tournament would be held). I didn’t want anyone else to see what was going on in my practices (no media, no nothing), so I didn’t even think about going to the park. I knew when there would be enough space for football drills in the rec plex and I scheduled our practices accordingly.
My first objective as the coach was to find out who my athletes were. I had the girls run suicides right off the bat to see who had the necessary speed and agility to make plays in my offense. Next on the agenda was figuring out if any of my players could throw a football effectively. It took about 2 throws from each of them to figure out who my quarterback and most important player was going to be: Jackie’s uncontrollably cute housemate Sara.
Then it was time to find out who could catch. Jackie and Kristen, both former cheerleaders, could not, but thankfully a few of my players could. Like the guru that I thought I was I taught my players the passing tree and had them run all of the patterns (with and without defenders) for the better part of 30 minutes. I was convinced that my West Coast offense could not be stopped. In my mind, I was the Bill Walsh of powderpuff football.
After I had figured out who my best offensive weapons would be, we changed gears and practiced our tackling. With my access to the flags, I set up two cones and had the girls practice ripping off each other’s flags in a confined space. It was not nearly as erotic as it might sound. Either way, I felt that this practice time with the actual flags would be our biggest advantage heading into the tournament.
With the tournament still a week away and most of the girls in our class talking and thinking about football it only seemed fitting for Jackie and me to somehow incorporate the powderpuff tournament into our columns. I, of course, didn’t want to exclude the other three grades, so I tried to broaden out the topic as best as I could. Jackie was admittedly awful at football, which helped things considerably in our crafting of this topic.
The Mirror on November 1st, 2007:
Girls and sports don’t mix
Sports are man’s escape from women. Every Sunday we just want to sit on the couch, slop on some pizza, drink beer, and watch football.
Stop invading our world girls. We need a break from you or we will lose our sanity. “If relationship George walks through this door he will kill independent George. A George divided against itself cannot stand!”2
You aren’t athletic. Quite frankly it’s pathetic. Why do you think the “you play ball like a girl” insult in The Sandlot was so effective? Watching you run is like watching a fish trying to free itself from a hook. Who taught you to flail your arms so awkwardly?
Your hands are awful. It’s like watching a wall try to catch a pass. You catch STD’s better than you do footballs. Everything remotely athletic that you do happens in slow motion, or at least that’s how it seems. Scholarship athletes aside, I am confident that I can beat every other female here in a sprint3.
When you play basketball, no one jumps. Whoever is the tallest gets every rebound until they finally make a shot. They should measure female verticals in sheets of paper4.
The only place for a woman on a field is the sideline as a sexual object for men. Don’t act surprised, you’ve all seen what cheerleaders and dance teams wear. Joe Namath had the right idea with Suzy Kolber.
And what about those sideline reporters? Do you really think ESPN hired Erin Andrews for her knowledge of sports and not her perfect face and body? Go figure she used to be on the dance team at the University of Florida. As my buddy Pete5 says, she’s the most now person in sports.6
Please don’t pretend like you know what you are talking about either. Just because your dad has season tickets doesn’t mean you can break down the game. Your dad could own the team and I still wouldn’t want to hear your opinion. You might know who Tony Parker is because of Eva Longoria, but could you name anyone on his team that is darker than him7? You also know Tom Brady, but he just knocked up one broad and now he plows a supermodel.
Just remember girls, sports are for guys. A hint of athleticism is a good thing, but when you look like Icebox from the Little Giants you won’t be getting any playing time off the field.
As you might expect my powderpuff players didn’t take too kindly to this column. In fact, I think they were all legitimately upset. I guess they assumed that I wrote what I did with them in mind seeing as how I had just witnessed them in semi-athletic situations all week. Looking back I can’t say that I blame them. If I was in their shoes I probably would have been pissed off too. This restrained hostility made our last practice a little tense, but I brushed off whatever resentment they may have had and focused solely on doing whatever it took to win. The way I saw it, if my players were angry at me, it was a good thing. We could channel that anger and use it against our opposition.
The night before the tournament some of the girls gathered at Jackie’s house and made uniforms for the team and coaching staff. Now I say coaching staff because a few guys that were dating/hooking up with girls on my team came on board for a practice or two to help out. Among them was the Ice Cat, who if you’ll remember dated Jackie’s housemate. He was really into the team and our practices, so I had no problem naming him my defensive coordinator.
Each powderpuff team was assigned a uniform color and ours was purple. Instead of searching for 15 purple shirts, Jackie and her housemates just bought white t-shirts and decided that it would be fun to tie-dye them purple. After that step was complete they glued (nick)names and numbers on the back of each uniform in black felt (mine said “He Said”) and our team name, “We Make it Rain” on the front.
The rationale behind the team name was twofold. First, and I hope this part came first, it was an homage to the title song of Prince’s 1984 album (“Purple Rain”). Second, it was derived from what was a popular nightclub fad for rappers and professional athletes. The act of “making it rain” was to ostentatiously throw money up into the air (or shower it down from a raised area) simply because you had so much of it. Tennessee Titans cornerback Adam “Pac Man” Jones got into some trouble after he “made it rain” at a strip club and then attempted to pick all of his money back up.
I’m not sure if our team name had anything to do with it, but the tournament was held on a cold, dark, drizzly Saturday morning in early November. My team gathered early in the morning (8:30ish, which is verrry early for a college senior on a Saturday) at an assistant coaches house (at the point) for a team breakfast that featured plenty of beers and mimosas to get the blood flowing. During this team meeting we walked through some of our key plays and went over our last minute strategy (aka we took a boatload of pictures and tried to get drunk as quickly as possible so that we wouldn’t feel the cold).
Our first matchup of the single elimination tournament was against a group of girls that I didn’t really know all that well. None of them struck me as sure fire athletes so I wasn’t the least bit worried. However, much to my chagrin, the weather put a damper on my quick strike, passing offense. All of our drives in the first half seemed promising, but eventually fizzled out. Thankfully our defense, thanks large in part to our practice tackling, put forth a stalwart effort and held the opposition scoreless.
While my main focus was on securing a victory and moving on to the next round, I also knew that it was important to get all of my players into the game for an extended period of time. When push came to shove, the day was really all about the girls having a good time. I had done my best to make sure that everyone had enough playing time in the first half, but about halfway through the second half one of our lesser talented players said that she had hardly played. Instead of having her plead her case with the Ice Cat I sent her in to play along the defensive line, knowing that she couldn’t do us much damage there (plus, there was no way that she was getting on the field when we were on offense). As fate would have it, on the very next play, the other team connected on a Hail Mary pass and scored a miraculous touchdown.
With our backs against the wall and trailing by a touchdown late my offense sputtered. We were relegated to running plays that we had hardly practiced because of the weather and we simply could not score. Frantic frustration set in as the clock counted down. We gave it all we had, but when the final horn sounded we had 0 points on the board. My team, thought to be one of the favorites, was upset in the first round. To this day the Ice Cat blames me for the loss because of my ill-advised substitution, but I still contend that the player I subbed into the game had no bearing on the result of the play.
As if getting upset in the first round wasn’t bad enough, the other team that sought my coaching prowess wound up steam-rolling through the competition and winning the tournament handily. After the win, a reporter for The Mirror interviewed their head coach, my buddy Hoff, a 6’4, 225 pound Irish meathead from Long Island, Alyssa, who I’m pretty sure only played a handful of plays, and my friend Sarah Kelly, one of the few people who I always refer to by using her full name, for this article that ran the following week.
Powder Puff players get down and dirty
Neither cold nor rain, neither barley nor hops could stop the senior class women from taking the field at the annual Powder Puff football tournament at Veteran's Park.
Each of the 10 teams was assigned a color to wear but had free creative reign over "uniform" design and team name. Talent ranged from teams that could complete 20-yard passing attempts to teams that did not understand the difference between a post and an option. Two games were played at the same time on parallel fields.
The quarterbacks did their best Tom Brady impressions, including a 30-yard touchdown pass that led the wide receiver perfectly, impressing all of the men who were watching, (possibly even "He Said" writer, Dan Stanczyk).
Traditionally, Powder Puff football teams appoint their male friends as coaches. Some coaches organize their team into a football militia, others show players a few plays and send them onto the field to panic and improvise.
Saturday's winning team, the Black Plague, came extremely prepared, decked out in black face paint to match their black uniforms, with a coach as intense as Bill Belichick on game day. They executed a variety of plays that resembled the playbook of a real college team, including an option and a reverse. The Plague squared off against the light pink team, the less-skilled Dupe Destroyers, who had no rhythm, and dominated during their first victory.
On the other field, a player carried the ball out of bounds only to be clocked by a player of the opposing team. These girls lowered their shoulders and played like they were wearing jock straps. The Black Plague continued to dominate the competition, on the way to a Powder Puff Super Bowl victory in front of approximately 75 spectators.
"Emotionally, winning it all was exhilarating; we had a great time playing together," said Sarah Kelly '08, a member of the Plague. "Physically, however, is a different story. I think we all have multiple battle wounds to prove our victory."
Members of the Plague said they were happy to disprove Stanczyk's "He Said" comments about women and football.
"I think our coaches' dedication to the Plague played a big part in our win, whereas Dan Stanczyk's team had the talent on the field, but his lack of faith in a female's ability to play football really held them back," said Alyssa Ockerbloom '08, another member of the winning team.
"I am a proud coach," said Ryan Hoffman '08. "I taught my team the basics of football, but only asked of them three things on game day: heart, intensity and to kill. They did all three, they brought the plague, and that is what brought home the championship trophy."
"I have great respect for Dan Stanczyk. His words are wise8," added Hoffman. "However, as he watched the plague being brought upon all of our opponents, I do think he had a change of heart. I had a post-game discussion with him, and he said that he was impressed by my girls, their intensity and their skills."
The 'girls of the gridiron' took part in one of the most fun events that make college an experience to remember. With seniors enjoying cold beverages on the even colder day, a commodore was built and running jokes were started. A bonus of the Powder Puff game was that the women were able to attain more knowledge of the sport. Toward the end of the games, progress was made and the teams seemed to get better as time went on.
But for some, no matter how much they practiced or how good they looked on the practice field, game day was a different story. Other players ran and screamed in their face while trying to throw the ball or make a catch. The spectators now know that these ladies can indeed catch footballs better than STDs, as opposed to what Stanczyk once wrote.
"Overall, Saturday was nuts. It really gave us girls a chance to do something we normally don't do, to push our friends around, smear war paint on our faces, and get drunk at 10 in the morning," Ockerbloom said. "I think we all had a lot of fun and appreciate the time and effort SBRA put into this event."
This was just one of the many articles in what Jackie would refer to as “The Dan Stanczyk issue” of The Mirror.
1 A few weeks into freshmen year a girl hanging out in Glancy and Greg’s room claimed that she was really good at Madden, a popular NFL video game. Upon hearing this ridiculous assertion my friends sought me out to take her on. It should be noted that I was certainly not the best Madden player on the floor (or out of my friends from home for that matter). I simply advertised myself as this great play caller and others tended to agree. Shortly after I entered the room a bet was negotiated by this girl and one of the kids on my floor. If I scored 70 points by halftime (3 minute quarters) this girl would have to do whatever I wanted her to. She was cute, so I was down. I’m not sure what she got if she won, but there was no way that she was going to. With a handful of my floor mates cheering me on I didn’t even break a sweat putting a 70 spot on the board with over a minute to go in the half. A bet’s a bet so my friends promptly left me and this girl alone for a few minutes, but unfortunately nothing worth mentioning really happened.↩
2 From the Seinfeldepisode “The Pool Guy” (1995)↩
3 This line caused a particular uproar among many of the females in my grade. In fact, the star of the powderpuff tournament (even though her team did not win) and I have nearly raced on multiple occasions. While I have not raced her I did race a very athletic girl in my class named Casey, who was a fellow intramural supervisor. We ran a suicide in the Rec Plex and I won by such a large margin that I lightly jogged the last down and back backwards while taunting her.↩
4 I gotta give credit where credit is due, I got this line directly from Matty K. I’m not sure where he heard it, or if he came up with it on his own, but he said it once or twice during our freshman year and I loved it. ↩
5 One of my housemates during my junior year. He lived in the double bedroom with Glancy (Room A) while I lived in the triple with Matty K and Dylan (Room B).↩
6 That summer ESPN ran a series hosted by Erin Andrews in which fans voted on who was the most “now” athlete in sports. The winner was golfer Tiger Woods. ↩
7 Tim told me to edit this line, but I kept it because I liked how Parker and darker rhymed. Plus, I thought it helped prove my point. Every chick knew Parker, but only because he was married to Eva Longoria at the time. The only players on the Spurs in ’07 that were darker than Tony Parker were Michael Finley, Bruce Bowen, Kurt Thomas, and Jacque Vaughn (Yes, I think Parker is darker than Tim Duncan) and I was fairly confident that no females knew who any of them were. ↩
8 This was my favorite line printed in The Mirror all year long mainly because I could hear Hoff saying it as I read it. In fact, I still can even to this day. People have told me that they can hear me saying things I’ve typed or written in the past as well and I find the whole phenomenon fascinating.↩
I guess this shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise seeing that girls in college don’t really have an outlet for this kind of thing. Where guys have intramural flag football, pickup basketball, video games, beer pong, etc. girls have nothing. I mean, I guess they get competitive when it comes to who can wear the least amount of clothing in public and who can hook up with what guy, but it’s definitely not the same. Also, girls rarely, if ever, get the chance to display physical aggression. Powderpuff provides this opportunity and some girls make the most of it. If there’s a girl that they don’t like, for whatever reason, they can literally go after them during the game and as long as it occurs within the field of play it’s deemed acceptable.
After deciding which other group of girls they want to join up with, the next step for powderpuff teams is to pick a coach. Girls admittedly know very little about football, so they need someone to guide them through the process. During my senior year most teams just picked a random collection of their boyfriends to coach their squads, but other teams looked elsewhere. Not surprisingly two teams vied for my services almost immediately.
I was a coveted coach because of my extensive sports knowledge, or at least that’s what my ego told me. People just knew that I was a sports nut. Whether they knew that I had my own sports talk radio show (unlikely, but I can dream) or just knew that I was an intramural supervisor, my sports fanaticism preceded me1.
I was first asked to coach a powderpuff team by my smart, funny, and attractive friend Kate. She was from Maryland, ran miles in bunches, wrote for The Mirror, and shared a room with Kristen. Her personality was intoxicating in that it was hard not to have fun when you were with her. Kate and Kristen’s house (The Jackpot) had formed a team with Jackie’s house (The Bunny) and I knew all of the girls fairly well, so in my attempt to play hard to get I told her that I would think about it.
Hours later I was asked to coach a team led by my fellow intramural supervisor and friend Rebecca (the girl that Matty K was obsessed with junior year). She was tall, athletic, and quite possibly the nicest person on the planet. No matter what she was positive, thoughtful, and genuinely interested in the well being of just about everyone she knew. She also served as the de facto documenter of our class because of her picture taking habit. I swear, she must have taken well over 2,000 pictures during the course of the year. Rebecca and her housemates had formed a team with two other houses (one of which was Alyssa’s). I knew most of those girls as well, so I told Rebecca that I would consider her proposal, but that I had a few other offers on the table.
After much deliberation and talent evaluation, I decided to coach Kate’s team for the following three reasons (in order). 1.) They asked me first 2.) I didn’t want to coach Alyssa because I thought it might be a weird dynamic because we were hooking up (What if she was bad? Would I feel inclined to play her a lot just because we were hooking up?), and 3.) Coaching Kate’s team would give me the chance to spend more time with Kristen.
My main advantage as a coach, aside from my brilliant offensive mind (there goes the ego again), was my access to the rec plex and the flag football equipment. Other coaches just found a football and picked random times to meet in the park across the street from many of the beach houses on Reef Road (where the tournament would be held). I didn’t want anyone else to see what was going on in my practices (no media, no nothing), so I didn’t even think about going to the park. I knew when there would be enough space for football drills in the rec plex and I scheduled our practices accordingly.
My first objective as the coach was to find out who my athletes were. I had the girls run suicides right off the bat to see who had the necessary speed and agility to make plays in my offense. Next on the agenda was figuring out if any of my players could throw a football effectively. It took about 2 throws from each of them to figure out who my quarterback and most important player was going to be: Jackie’s uncontrollably cute housemate Sara.
Then it was time to find out who could catch. Jackie and Kristen, both former cheerleaders, could not, but thankfully a few of my players could. Like the guru that I thought I was I taught my players the passing tree and had them run all of the patterns (with and without defenders) for the better part of 30 minutes. I was convinced that my West Coast offense could not be stopped. In my mind, I was the Bill Walsh of powderpuff football.
After I had figured out who my best offensive weapons would be, we changed gears and practiced our tackling. With my access to the flags, I set up two cones and had the girls practice ripping off each other’s flags in a confined space. It was not nearly as erotic as it might sound. Either way, I felt that this practice time with the actual flags would be our biggest advantage heading into the tournament.
With the tournament still a week away and most of the girls in our class talking and thinking about football it only seemed fitting for Jackie and me to somehow incorporate the powderpuff tournament into our columns. I, of course, didn’t want to exclude the other three grades, so I tried to broaden out the topic as best as I could. Jackie was admittedly awful at football, which helped things considerably in our crafting of this topic.
The Mirror on November 1st, 2007:
Girls and sports don’t mix
Sports are man’s escape from women. Every Sunday we just want to sit on the couch, slop on some pizza, drink beer, and watch football.
Stop invading our world girls. We need a break from you or we will lose our sanity. “If relationship George walks through this door he will kill independent George. A George divided against itself cannot stand!”2
You aren’t athletic. Quite frankly it’s pathetic. Why do you think the “you play ball like a girl” insult in The Sandlot was so effective? Watching you run is like watching a fish trying to free itself from a hook. Who taught you to flail your arms so awkwardly?
Your hands are awful. It’s like watching a wall try to catch a pass. You catch STD’s better than you do footballs. Everything remotely athletic that you do happens in slow motion, or at least that’s how it seems. Scholarship athletes aside, I am confident that I can beat every other female here in a sprint3.
When you play basketball, no one jumps. Whoever is the tallest gets every rebound until they finally make a shot. They should measure female verticals in sheets of paper4.
The only place for a woman on a field is the sideline as a sexual object for men. Don’t act surprised, you’ve all seen what cheerleaders and dance teams wear. Joe Namath had the right idea with Suzy Kolber.
And what about those sideline reporters? Do you really think ESPN hired Erin Andrews for her knowledge of sports and not her perfect face and body? Go figure she used to be on the dance team at the University of Florida. As my buddy Pete5 says, she’s the most now person in sports.6
Please don’t pretend like you know what you are talking about either. Just because your dad has season tickets doesn’t mean you can break down the game. Your dad could own the team and I still wouldn’t want to hear your opinion. You might know who Tony Parker is because of Eva Longoria, but could you name anyone on his team that is darker than him7? You also know Tom Brady, but he just knocked up one broad and now he plows a supermodel.
Just remember girls, sports are for guys. A hint of athleticism is a good thing, but when you look like Icebox from the Little Giants you won’t be getting any playing time off the field.
As you might expect my powderpuff players didn’t take too kindly to this column. In fact, I think they were all legitimately upset. I guess they assumed that I wrote what I did with them in mind seeing as how I had just witnessed them in semi-athletic situations all week. Looking back I can’t say that I blame them. If I was in their shoes I probably would have been pissed off too. This restrained hostility made our last practice a little tense, but I brushed off whatever resentment they may have had and focused solely on doing whatever it took to win. The way I saw it, if my players were angry at me, it was a good thing. We could channel that anger and use it against our opposition.
The night before the tournament some of the girls gathered at Jackie’s house and made uniforms for the team and coaching staff. Now I say coaching staff because a few guys that were dating/hooking up with girls on my team came on board for a practice or two to help out. Among them was the Ice Cat, who if you’ll remember dated Jackie’s housemate. He was really into the team and our practices, so I had no problem naming him my defensive coordinator.
Each powderpuff team was assigned a uniform color and ours was purple. Instead of searching for 15 purple shirts, Jackie and her housemates just bought white t-shirts and decided that it would be fun to tie-dye them purple. After that step was complete they glued (nick)names and numbers on the back of each uniform in black felt (mine said “He Said”) and our team name, “We Make it Rain” on the front.
The rationale behind the team name was twofold. First, and I hope this part came first, it was an homage to the title song of Prince’s 1984 album (“Purple Rain”). Second, it was derived from what was a popular nightclub fad for rappers and professional athletes. The act of “making it rain” was to ostentatiously throw money up into the air (or shower it down from a raised area) simply because you had so much of it. Tennessee Titans cornerback Adam “Pac Man” Jones got into some trouble after he “made it rain” at a strip club and then attempted to pick all of his money back up.
I’m not sure if our team name had anything to do with it, but the tournament was held on a cold, dark, drizzly Saturday morning in early November. My team gathered early in the morning (8:30ish, which is verrry early for a college senior on a Saturday) at an assistant coaches house (at the point) for a team breakfast that featured plenty of beers and mimosas to get the blood flowing. During this team meeting we walked through some of our key plays and went over our last minute strategy (aka we took a boatload of pictures and tried to get drunk as quickly as possible so that we wouldn’t feel the cold).
Our first matchup of the single elimination tournament was against a group of girls that I didn’t really know all that well. None of them struck me as sure fire athletes so I wasn’t the least bit worried. However, much to my chagrin, the weather put a damper on my quick strike, passing offense. All of our drives in the first half seemed promising, but eventually fizzled out. Thankfully our defense, thanks large in part to our practice tackling, put forth a stalwart effort and held the opposition scoreless.
While my main focus was on securing a victory and moving on to the next round, I also knew that it was important to get all of my players into the game for an extended period of time. When push came to shove, the day was really all about the girls having a good time. I had done my best to make sure that everyone had enough playing time in the first half, but about halfway through the second half one of our lesser talented players said that she had hardly played. Instead of having her plead her case with the Ice Cat I sent her in to play along the defensive line, knowing that she couldn’t do us much damage there (plus, there was no way that she was getting on the field when we were on offense). As fate would have it, on the very next play, the other team connected on a Hail Mary pass and scored a miraculous touchdown.
With our backs against the wall and trailing by a touchdown late my offense sputtered. We were relegated to running plays that we had hardly practiced because of the weather and we simply could not score. Frantic frustration set in as the clock counted down. We gave it all we had, but when the final horn sounded we had 0 points on the board. My team, thought to be one of the favorites, was upset in the first round. To this day the Ice Cat blames me for the loss because of my ill-advised substitution, but I still contend that the player I subbed into the game had no bearing on the result of the play.
As if getting upset in the first round wasn’t bad enough, the other team that sought my coaching prowess wound up steam-rolling through the competition and winning the tournament handily. After the win, a reporter for The Mirror interviewed their head coach, my buddy Hoff, a 6’4, 225 pound Irish meathead from Long Island, Alyssa, who I’m pretty sure only played a handful of plays, and my friend Sarah Kelly, one of the few people who I always refer to by using her full name, for this article that ran the following week.
Powder Puff players get down and dirty
Neither cold nor rain, neither barley nor hops could stop the senior class women from taking the field at the annual Powder Puff football tournament at Veteran's Park.
Each of the 10 teams was assigned a color to wear but had free creative reign over "uniform" design and team name. Talent ranged from teams that could complete 20-yard passing attempts to teams that did not understand the difference between a post and an option. Two games were played at the same time on parallel fields.
The quarterbacks did their best Tom Brady impressions, including a 30-yard touchdown pass that led the wide receiver perfectly, impressing all of the men who were watching, (possibly even "He Said" writer, Dan Stanczyk).
Traditionally, Powder Puff football teams appoint their male friends as coaches. Some coaches organize their team into a football militia, others show players a few plays and send them onto the field to panic and improvise.
Saturday's winning team, the Black Plague, came extremely prepared, decked out in black face paint to match their black uniforms, with a coach as intense as Bill Belichick on game day. They executed a variety of plays that resembled the playbook of a real college team, including an option and a reverse. The Plague squared off against the light pink team, the less-skilled Dupe Destroyers, who had no rhythm, and dominated during their first victory.
On the other field, a player carried the ball out of bounds only to be clocked by a player of the opposing team. These girls lowered their shoulders and played like they were wearing jock straps. The Black Plague continued to dominate the competition, on the way to a Powder Puff Super Bowl victory in front of approximately 75 spectators.
"Emotionally, winning it all was exhilarating; we had a great time playing together," said Sarah Kelly '08, a member of the Plague. "Physically, however, is a different story. I think we all have multiple battle wounds to prove our victory."
Members of the Plague said they were happy to disprove Stanczyk's "He Said" comments about women and football.
"I think our coaches' dedication to the Plague played a big part in our win, whereas Dan Stanczyk's team had the talent on the field, but his lack of faith in a female's ability to play football really held them back," said Alyssa Ockerbloom '08, another member of the winning team.
"I am a proud coach," said Ryan Hoffman '08. "I taught my team the basics of football, but only asked of them three things on game day: heart, intensity and to kill. They did all three, they brought the plague, and that is what brought home the championship trophy."
"I have great respect for Dan Stanczyk. His words are wise8," added Hoffman. "However, as he watched the plague being brought upon all of our opponents, I do think he had a change of heart. I had a post-game discussion with him, and he said that he was impressed by my girls, their intensity and their skills."
The 'girls of the gridiron' took part in one of the most fun events that make college an experience to remember. With seniors enjoying cold beverages on the even colder day, a commodore was built and running jokes were started. A bonus of the Powder Puff game was that the women were able to attain more knowledge of the sport. Toward the end of the games, progress was made and the teams seemed to get better as time went on.
But for some, no matter how much they practiced or how good they looked on the practice field, game day was a different story. Other players ran and screamed in their face while trying to throw the ball or make a catch. The spectators now know that these ladies can indeed catch footballs better than STDs, as opposed to what Stanczyk once wrote.
"Overall, Saturday was nuts. It really gave us girls a chance to do something we normally don't do, to push our friends around, smear war paint on our faces, and get drunk at 10 in the morning," Ockerbloom said. "I think we all had a lot of fun and appreciate the time and effort SBRA put into this event."
This was just one of the many articles in what Jackie would refer to as “The Dan Stanczyk issue” of The Mirror.
1 A few weeks into freshmen year a girl hanging out in Glancy and Greg’s room claimed that she was really good at Madden, a popular NFL video game. Upon hearing this ridiculous assertion my friends sought me out to take her on. It should be noted that I was certainly not the best Madden player on the floor (or out of my friends from home for that matter). I simply advertised myself as this great play caller and others tended to agree. Shortly after I entered the room a bet was negotiated by this girl and one of the kids on my floor. If I scored 70 points by halftime (3 minute quarters) this girl would have to do whatever I wanted her to. She was cute, so I was down. I’m not sure what she got if she won, but there was no way that she was going to. With a handful of my floor mates cheering me on I didn’t even break a sweat putting a 70 spot on the board with over a minute to go in the half. A bet’s a bet so my friends promptly left me and this girl alone for a few minutes, but unfortunately nothing worth mentioning really happened.↩
2 From the Seinfeldepisode “The Pool Guy” (1995)↩
3 This line caused a particular uproar among many of the females in my grade. In fact, the star of the powderpuff tournament (even though her team did not win) and I have nearly raced on multiple occasions. While I have not raced her I did race a very athletic girl in my class named Casey, who was a fellow intramural supervisor. We ran a suicide in the Rec Plex and I won by such a large margin that I lightly jogged the last down and back backwards while taunting her.↩
4 I gotta give credit where credit is due, I got this line directly from Matty K. I’m not sure where he heard it, or if he came up with it on his own, but he said it once or twice during our freshman year and I loved it. ↩
5 One of my housemates during my junior year. He lived in the double bedroom with Glancy (Room A) while I lived in the triple with Matty K and Dylan (Room B).↩
6 That summer ESPN ran a series hosted by Erin Andrews in which fans voted on who was the most “now” athlete in sports. The winner was golfer Tiger Woods. ↩
7 Tim told me to edit this line, but I kept it because I liked how Parker and darker rhymed. Plus, I thought it helped prove my point. Every chick knew Parker, but only because he was married to Eva Longoria at the time. The only players on the Spurs in ’07 that were darker than Tony Parker were Michael Finley, Bruce Bowen, Kurt Thomas, and Jacque Vaughn (Yes, I think Parker is darker than Tim Duncan) and I was fairly confident that no females knew who any of them were. ↩
8 This was my favorite line printed in The Mirror all year long mainly because I could hear Hoff saying it as I read it. In fact, I still can even to this day. People have told me that they can hear me saying things I’ve typed or written in the past as well and I find the whole phenomenon fascinating.↩
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