"How NOT to Take an L on Valentine's Day"

Whenever possible, I want to bellow a hearty laugh. And thanks to my school’s daily newspaper, I didn’t have to even watch reruns of The Office to get my daily cackle.

Last week, the Hilltop (Howard University’s daily newspaper) listed their top-ten songs for Valentine’s Day 2009. I scanned the page and saw that Beyonce’s hit song “Single Ladies” appeared at the top of the list. Of course, I laughed at the obvious contradiction present and continued on with my day.

What contradiction? You know...the fact that Beyonce – a woman married to a hip-hop legend – is singing about a concept that she has absolutely no connection with anymore. In other words, a married woman is singing about being single, which is an obvious oxymoron.

The chance of a guy hearing that song and saying to himself, “Wow, maybe I should call the girl that I’m feeling now and apologize” is downright laughable. Most guys will probably hear the song, chuckle, and thank Beyonce’s vocal skills for handing them another reason NOT to come through in the clutch on “Singles Awareness Day”.

That's why very few relationships begin during the period of February 1st to the 13th.

Only the most idiotic or desperate of our kind would begin courting a girl within that time frame. Please believe…we do our research. According to the U.S. Greeting Card Association, men will spend twice as much as women on Valentine’s Day, a fact that makes us cringe. The rest of us would rather wait until February 15th to begin the courting process. If a guy’s really smart, he’ll wait until at least the 20th just to erase suspicion. We’re not as stupid as we look.

Women, before you begin to ball your fists, turn “Single Ladies” up in your rooms, and blow up your prospective man’s phone, allow me to shed a little light on life as a man. For the most part, men are very simple human beings. Men are creatures of habit, and are most comfortable existing within a set structure. For example, you might think that your man is being lazy and unproductive when he’s sitting in a ratty T-shirt and boxers watching college football on an autumn afternoon. However, if he’s the kind of guy that you even want to marry, that man planned on being lazy that day. It’s pretty much a guarantee that he woke up and thought to himself, “Hmm, what am I going to do today?” In other words, that man planned to not have a plan that day.

Out of the many great concepts my dad taught me when I was a kid; one lesson always stands out above the rest. Make sure you have a plan. “If you get in trouble with the law, at least let the idea be YOUR bad idea”, he’d say. “Don’t follow someone else’s dumb idea.” You definitely want the man of your dreams to be ambitious, to have his own plan. It’s important to allow the man to be the man within reason. No questions asked.

When it comes to dating and courtship, men relish ambiguity. Within the realm of relationship ambiguity, we maintain control. Nothing’s expected from us unless we allow it; nothing’s required unless we initiate action. Plus, for some reason, this mysteriousness is attractive to women. Why would a girl date you if she already knows everything about you? Exactly. She wouldn’t.
Men will act on their love, but not until they believe the coast is clear. That’s why most men hate Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day elicits a male response. Valentine’s Day forces us to prove our love on a day that all of our other brethren are also proving their love. Forcing a guy to admit his inner feelings against his wishes is like waking up a hibernating bear before spring. You just don’t want to do it. Trust me, he’ll wake up when the time’s right.

Here’s the truth about Valentine’s Day. Guys aren’t just vying for the affection of their girls. In reality, guys are competing against other guys.

Allow me the opportunity to erase the puzzled looks from your faces.

Women of the world, we’ll never admit to knowing anything about your kind, but we can merely assume this generic fact. You’ve seen at least one romantic movie. You’ve been cognizant of your surroundings during at least 15-20 Heart’s Day's. You’ve listened to at least one Jodeci album. You have a working knowledge of how our society illustrates love.

However, society’s depiction of love is inherently flawed. Let’s be serious for a second. Just because a guy decided to buy you flowers does not mean that he’s ready to marry you. I know this normally sounds stupid and dumb to consider, but on Valentine’s Day…women want to believe that a guy really cares for them. As the Boss would say, "Everybody's got a hungry heart." Somehow, an obligatory gesture becomes synonymous with deeper feelings or true consideration. In reality, we’re just trying not to come up short on the world’s biggest holiday of love. Like Ricky Bobby always says, “If you’re not first, you’re last.” And for a guy, coming in last on Valentine’s Day guarantees death to any budding relationship.

Think about it. How can you stand out and prove your love to your woman if millions of other guys are attempting to do so on the same day? You can’t. No matter how inventive or creative you think you are, there’s another guy in your sphere of influence that will top your gift. Trust me, I’m a creative writer and I’ve tried. No dice.

However, after much deliberation over breakfast with the Table of Scholars (actually, it was just me and my two friends), a theory was hatched. Our goal? Not to take an L on Valentine’s Day. The goal of every guy is to finish every Valentine’s Day personally neutral, to emerge unscathed after a long day of anticipation and obligation.

When we began our discussion, we agreed that it’s absolutely impossible for a guy to pull off a complete W on Valentine’s Day. Actually, the only way for a guy to commence taking a slight win on Valentine’s Day is to be married for 3+ years. Hopefully, the prospective guy would already be constantly showering love onto his woman, and she understands the fact that Valentine’s Day is just a relationship obligation. Also, she would have already experienced at least 3-5 heart’s days during their relationship, which further exist in her memory as proof that her man loves her. However, the guy must forever bring flowers and candy in hand when entering the house on said date. You can’t take any chances.

Without further ado, the golden rules on how NOT to take an L on Valentine’s Day:

RULE #1: Grow a spine. Make a decision and stick to it.
Before you even begin to consider denouncing your V-Day obligations, make sure that you’re seriously ready to stay committed to the task at hand. If you envision a scenario where you’ll feel terrible about not dating the girl you like on Valentine’s Day, stop, pick up the phone, and call said girl to see if she’s made plans. Nothing’s worse than hanging with a dude that keeps bringing up the “what could have been” Valentine’s Day strategy while you’re trying to enjoy life without restrictions.

RULE #2: Call your Mom.
Every guy should call their Mom on Valentine’s Day. She brought you into the world. Enough said. If you haven’t done it yet, just stop now and dial her number.

RULE #3: Keep a low profile.
One of the worst things that can happen to a guy on Valentine’s Day is to get caught doing…nothing. Why do you think I spent most of my day eating breakfast and typing this love guide? On a campus as plenteous as Howard’s with women, chances are high that you’ll run into a girl absent of plans. If you previously planned on not having plans on Valentine’s Day, you’re pretty much screwed at this point. Because men are most comfortable in structure, conversation will inevitably steer towards your plans for the night. If you have no plans and still decide not to take the prospective girl out, you’ve officially become Public Enemy #1.

RULE #4: Promise your girl an equally great future date. Or, better yet, come through beforehand.
I got this one from my boy Jordan, who I caught walking to his girlfriend’s job to give her flowers and candy before Valentine Day’s. What a great idea. Of course, I dapped him up and yelled “CLUTCH!” over and over without regard for my reputation. The "future date" or "beforehand setup" allows your well-executed plan to succeed without fear of another guy topping your idea, and you come off looking way more inventive and cool. (The TV analogy for this phenomenon would be Jeremy Piven. Jeremy Piven is a solid Hollywood actor. However, because Piven is acting with terrible guys on HBO's "Entourage", he comes off looking way better than he really is.) You’ll probably still need to come through with a card on Valentine’s Day, but at least you’ll be able to watch the NBA Slam Dunk Contest without guilt.

RULE #5: Make sure you’re not alone.
This one applies to men and women on Valentine’s Day. Girls, don’t wallow in sadness and wonder about your man’s plans during the night! Call your single friends up and head out to a restaurant, bowling alley, or some other non-romantic spot for the night. Guys, if you end up sad and alone on Valentine’s Day…you probably didn’t listen to RULE #1. Don’t allow doubt to infiltrate your mind like Chris Paul getting steals on the Russian Olympic team. Meet up with some guys and watch NBA All-Star Weekend festivities. If you’re feeling bold, go ahead and invite female friends to check the game out too. That’s what the NBA All-Star Weekend’s for…bringing date-free people together in a non-awkward environment.

So ladies and gentleman, go out and enjoy President’s Day weekend.

We are liv-ing sin-gle…in a 90’s kind of world.

And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Michael A. Benjamin, II

For the Love of the Game...

I absolutely love sports.

Sure, I had my doubts. From a distance I saw Big Ben Roethlisberger tossing touchdown passes in Pittsburgh while the pimple-faced Eli Manning was slinging interceptions for scores at an unbelievable rate (see: Minnesota Vikings, Week 12). I, like most New Yorkers, wondered aloud about the draft-day decision the Giants brass had made that faithful day and believed that we had chosen the wrong quarterback. Our gap-toothed Hall of Fame pass rusher skipped the entire training camp fighting a long divorce battle and our coach was on pace to break every blood vessels in his scalp during the off-season press conferences. The franchise’s record-holding running back was busy dissecting the team for his national television audience while the team frantically searched for a replacement back, trading for a respectable guy from Cleveland (Reuben Droughns) and drafting some young kid from Marshall (Ahmad Bradshaw). With a rejuvenated T.O. and a loaded Redskins squad, the chances for Big Blue to come crawling out of the NFC East looked slim.

But Sunday – in front of a record-breaking 90 million viewers – our defense manhandles the greatest offense since the beginning of the salary cap era, our snot-nosed QB becomes a legend, and New York defeats Boston on the biggest of stages – Super Bowl XLII.

Man, it’s great being king. Now I know how Simba feels.

As most displaced New Yorkers, I woke up Monday morning dazed and confused. Did that just happen? Did someone spike the punch without my notice? Was this all a part of some diabolical plot similar to Tonya Harding's planned hit on American teammate Nancy Kerrigan? Forgetting that I had elevated my bed, I plunged headlong onto my area rug. After licking my wounds, I powered up the TV and flicked to the morning’s SportsCenter loop. Yup, the Giants had won.

As I sat in my dorm room and reflect on the excitement that enveloped the Super Bowl, I began to think about THAT question. I hear it when I walk through the campus, or climb up the hill to class, or drag my garbage to the trash chute. I’ve never known exactly how to answer it…and honestly, as I type this sentence into Microsoft Word, I’m still puzzled.

“TTK, why are you so infatuated with sports? Why do you love them so much?”

To answer, I usually counter by inquiring about their lack of love for sport, or ramble about the thunderous dunks that Shawn Kemp deposited on his victims during his career, or smile and tell them to watch another game. However, that’s never the real reason why I love sports. I just supply my textbook answer, understanding that time is short, that no one has twenty minutes to spare, and that a simple gesture or phrase would suffice. Since my definition will never give the feeling behind true love of sports justice, I’ll instead give a quick story.

I first started playing organized basketball in seventh grade on our neighborhood’s CYO team. My head coach was a tall Irish guy that always had a scowl adorning his face. During practice we would run suicides and wind sprints until our lungs felt like they’d collapse, like the ceiling was ready to bear down on our timid souls. On that team, I bought my minutes because of my tenacity and hustle. I loved when the coach roared with delight when I dove out of bounds in pursuit of a loose ball. I enjoyed glancing over to the bench and catching a grin curl across Coach’s face after I powered to the offensive glass for put-backs and garbage lay-ups. I knew my role, and embraced it for the benefit of the team.

During the course of the season, we had become recognized as one of the better teams in the league and gathered new rivals at other schools around Queens. On this day, we were playing at home against another basketball factory school, and needed a quick basket to keep pace with this team late in the fourth quarter. Our coach couldn’t make the game due to some extenuating circumstances and we were left with the assistant, an honorable gentleman, the late Coach George. When we came to the huddle after the timeout, Coach George pointed to me and made a simple statement.

“We need a basket right now. TTK, are you ready to make the shot?”

I immediately stared at my laces and tried not to make eye contact with the other guys in the huddle. I couldn’t believe it. Coach was asking me to not only take, but MAKE the jumpshot.

“I-I-I-I guess so,” I stammered.

The ref motioned to our bench, and the team knew that I was going to be the guy to take the shot and tie the game up. As I slowly make my return to our basket, Coach grabbed me and grinned. This is nothing for you TTK, he said. Once you make the jumpshot, just get back on D.

The rest of the story pretty much writes itself, but I’ll continue. My teammate "Jimmy" fed me a beautiful inbounds pass, and without hesitation I squared my shoulders, rose above the defender, and canned the jumper. As I sprinted back down court to play defense, I only remember touching the trail of tears that rolled down my face, dishing out high fives to the rest of my team, and hearing the din of an electric gymnasium crowd.

People love sports because of the feeling one gets after swishing that game-tying jimmy in front of a packed school gym. Or after snatching that catch in traffic across the middle of the football field while playing with your friends. Or after spiking that volleyball into the dirt during a friendly match at the family reunion against your loud mouthed relative who still thinks that they’ve got game. Those feelings explain why collegiate athletes lift weights during the heat of summer, why your kid brother smells like funk when he hugs your knees after a day at the YMCA, and why your dad still owns the pair of orange Chuck Taylor's he wore every day during high school.

While most people are fearful about the real world after college, the saddest part of college for most guys (and some girls too) is realizing that those dreams of hearing your name called on draft day are starting to fade fast. Sure, we know that we can yam a basketball through the net, but understand that there are thousands of guys in Division I, II, or III hoops that can do it a lot better than we can. Most of us shrug off that feeling of inadequacy and move on, but some don’t. That’s why you’ll always find “that guy” pumping extreme amounts of iron in the Bally’s weight room, buying cartons of protein shakes at your area supermarket, and fighting an addiction to those nutritional supplements sold at the local GNC. Sure, he’s glad that you noticed his tree trunk sized arms when he carried your groceries and hopes that he’ll cash in on a date, but he’s still hoping and believing that a conditioning coach will call his room phone and invite him out to Redskins training camp next summer, so he remains on alert.

Once we accept that the major leagues are out of reach, most folks latch onto professional athletics hoping that those figures on the television screen provide the same exhilaration that we once felt as competitors in sport. Becoming a die-hard fan glues that team’s passion to his/hers, allowing the fan to revel in their team’s victories and wallow in their defeats. As my friend "The Doc" once mentioned, sports are our soap operas. Sport is the straw that stirs our emotional drink. The fan wants to recreate those dramatic scenes in his/her mind, to appreciate and share with the members of future generations.

I realize that I’ve left out the casual fan in my assessment on our love for sports. Well, the casual fan joins the collection of sports fans in this instance. To the majority of its viewers, sporting events are one of those things in life – like great movies, TV shows, or special songs – that provide us with brief moments of time to experience unbridled joy. I’ll always remember David Tyree’s sensational catch in Super Bowl XLII not solely for Eli Manning’s flair for the dramatic and the Giants inevitable touchdown seconds later, but primarily because in that moment I jumped around the house like a unruly toddler, bearhugged my sister in front of a group of friends and strangers, and had a big smile plastered on my face for the rest of the game.

The casual fan has those same memories, like the time that a high school boyfriend rested his track letter jacket gently on his date’s delicate shoulders, or when daddy’s girl enjoyed her first ever father/daughter date at the ballpark, or that electricity in the air at grade school on the day that the Yankees made the playoffs for the first time. The casual fan may not watch every single regular season game or bother to fact check Wikipedia to make sure that I spelled Roethlisberger’s name correctly in the beginning of this “note”, but will always watch the biggest of games. Why? The casual fan wants to create a myriad of great new memories to attach to the old ones, and understands that on the biggest of stages – such as the Super Bowl, World Series, the Masters, or Olympics – the chance to experience a lasting moment of joy has a greater chance of occurring.

For me, besides that feeling of “greater love” (thanks, Fred Hammond!) that comes through a relationship with Jesus, a God that continually shows his unconditional love for his creation, sports – like marriage or new birth – is one of the tangible earthly elements that provides moments of unbridled joy in our lives.

That’s why I absolutely love sports.

-TTK