Thank God I had
a girl. The first thing I see in the
paper this morning—and before my first cup of coffee, mind you—is a picture on
the first page of the Tribune sports’ section showing seven shirtless young men
identified as Northwestern students.
Spelled out on their chests during the recent NU-Purdue basketball game
Sunday were the letters F-I-N-A-L-L-Y, as in NU finally making the NCAA “big
dance.” The only thing missing was a
plastic cup of beer in hand. Without
some kind of intervention, that will surely come next.
If I’ve seen it
once on TV, I’ve seen it a thousand times, the shirtless clowns at a baseball
or football game, a message painted on their bodies. Especially sad are the devotees of the
bare—and at Bears’ games, beer—belly at an outdoor venue in December and
January. Oh, We Are Tough. No, you look stupid.
Civilization
hangs by a thread. The “No Hats, No
Shoes, No Service” sign may be all that’s keeping us from descending into
chaos. Allow me another No to the
betterment of humanity—No Shirt, No Media Exposure.
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