by Wanda Sykes
They still receive all the social benefits of being considered an athlete. The only reason you see them out at parties all the time is that they don’t have to be at practice in the morning. They’re the guys at home sleeping with all the stars’ girls when they’re traveling to away games. They got the status of an athlete with the spare time of the unemployed. It’s like they’ve pulled off this tremendous acting job or something. They got everybody fooled down to the coaches, athletic trainers, teammates, and fans. Even newspaper reporters will quote their comments for the sake of writing game summaries.
“What position do you play?”
“Injured.”
Do you actually feel like you’ve accomplished something when you’ve sat on the bench all day? What do you say when you come home to your wife?
Wife: Honey, how was work?
Benchy: Aw, baby, they had these wooden chairs instead of the aluminum ones. My ass is sore.
Football
I used to think that football took place in this overbearing male-only environment that bled masculine domination. But the more I attend, the more I realize these football fans could actually be experiencing the straight man’s gay pride parade. You see men painting each other’s faces in bright colors. You see men proud to wear another man’s last name on their shirt. You see some men wear no shirt at all. Think about the whole event. Hot wieners on every corner as you walk up to the main competition. Men open up the back of their trunk for a little tailgating. Ain’t nothing like participating in a little preparty just to get you in the right frame of mind. Guys get so loaded during these games, you wonder what it is about this environment that makes men get drunk and holler another man’s name out loud. If fantasy football isn’t considered a gay activity, I don’t know what is. Don’t all men’s fantasies contain sex?
Super Bowl
I’ve been to the last three Super Bowls. My liver still hasn’t recovered from the one in New Orleans. I’m just waiting to pop up on one of those Girls Gone Wild videos; at least I hope it’s Snoop Dogg’s. I have one problem with the Super Bowl, not the game, not the host city, not even the half-time show. My problem is all the players who aren’t in the game hanging around town. Why are they there? Your season ended a few weeks ago, shouldn’t you be hibernating right about now? You and your team didn’t make it to the Super Bowl, keep your ass at home, losers. Watch the game from your living room like the overwhelming majority of people do who aren’t playing.
I was amazed at how many failures I saw this past Super Bowl in Houston. Man, were they gettin’ on my nerves. No matter where I went, in the restaurants, hotels, parties, just big muthafuckas hanging out, hogging up space. These losers actually have the nerve to host parties. “Come party with Dante Culpepper?” Not after that season you just had. It shouldn’t be any partying going on, you should be somewhere studying your playbook.
You’d think these guys would be too embarrassed to even show their face at the Super Bowl. Nope, they fly their family members out to the game. For what? So they can watch you watch the game from the stands? Do they not understand that they’re losers? Why are they at the Super Bowl? It’s not about you anymore. Yeah, your team was above five hundred this year. But that just wasn’t good enough. I don’t want to see you anymore. I don’t care how much money you make, beat it! The Super Bowl is for the two best teams in the league. Shouldn’t you be in the weight room working toward being the best you can be next season? Go run a tire drill or something.
I went to the NBA All-Star Game at the Staples Center this year. I didn’t see Christian Laettner or Alan Houston there chillin’. You football players need to follow their example. And what do y’all say when you see one another?
Wassup, man?
It’s good to see you here. Heard y’all broke five hundred this season. Congratulations!
Yeah, you comin’ to my party?
You’re supposed to be professional players; have some shame when you lose. Coaches should make it a rule. If I see any of you participating in this year’s Super Bowl activities, you will be cut from the team.
Native American Mascots
A number of colleges and professional sports teams still have Native American mascots. This makes no sense to me. It’s painful to watch, especially since I grew up a Washington Redskins fan. I don’t want to see the headline “Cowboys Defeat Redskins.” That just sounds wrong.
I would see Native Americans dressed in their traditional garb in front of RFK Stadium protesting the mascot. The problem is that a lot of people dressed up as Redskins, so the protestors just blended in as fans. People would ask them if they had tickets to sell. It was sad.
There are some individuals who are such diehard fans of their teams that they insist on keeping these names and images in order to preserve tradition. They are so attached to their mascots that they lack concern about who they are offending and how this has shaped America’s perception of a people. I would be all for changing the Redskins’ name. It is offensive. I think the worst one is the Cleveland Indians’ Big Chief Wahoo. It’s just a red face on a baseball, with a big toothy grin. It’s the Sambo of all the other offensive mascots. I have never seen a Native American smile that hard before, not even at a casino opening.
Mascots are supposed to give good luck. If a dancing Seminole is considered good luck, why not require the team to stay at a reservation the night before a game. That’ll make the wind blow in your favor. Native Americans have been some of the most unluckiest motherfuckers throughout American history. These people woke up one day and their whole country was stolen from them. What kinda luck is that? Pocahontas didn’t bring John Smith good luck. Hanging around her almost got his ass killed.
You are jinxing your favorite team if you continue to support these ethnic mascots. If you really think it makes that much of a difference, consider using people who are assured good fortune. Why don’t you use people who just won the lottery as mascots? They’re lucky. I’ll cheer for the “Washington O.J.s.” With “the Juice’s” luck, we’ll be in the Super Bowl. Better yet, use Ryan Seacrest as a mascot. Week after week, the fans would be annoyed as fuck, but luck would be on your side.
I think the Native Americans need to try a different approach to protesting. Listen, you are being ignored. I think a couple of arrows on fire whizzing through a luxury box would raise an eyebrow, maybe open up a few ears. I’m just putting it out there.
Part Seven
Marriage Terms
Just look at some of the terms we give to this supposedly happy union:
Wedlock—Sounds like incarceration to me.
Marriage—Did you ever notice how the word “marriage” is one vocal inflection away from being “mirage”?
Jump the Broom—Something used to dispose of trash.
Tie the Knot—As in Gordian; almost as complex as marriage itself.
Ball and Chain—Speaks for itself.
Your Better Half—Which assumes that you’re the fucked-up part of this union.
Even the terminology is trying to tell you something. You should listen. But most of you won’t. And you’ll screw up and do it.
Can Keep It
I’ve been married, and that sucks. A Mardi Gras sounds like fun. I’ll never get married again. Yep, I said never. I think marriage is oppressive. I don’t care how liberal your partner is, once you’re married, you automatically assume man-and-wife roles. You go into the marriage thinking, We are equal; this is a partnership. As soon as you say “I do,” you will discover that marriage is like a car. Yeah, both of you might be sitting in the front seat, but only one of you is driving. Most marriages are more like a motorcycle than a car. Somebody has to sit in the back, and you have to yell just to be heard. That’s why I said, “To hell with that bullshit, I’ll walk.”
It’s too many expectations. There are things that you are going to expect from him or her as a husband or wife. And there are things that will be expected from you as a husband or wife. For instance, if y
ou two keep going out for dinner every night or he’s bringing home takeout, somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s thinking, Damn, when is this bitch going to cook a meal? He may never say it, but trust me, he’s thinking it because he’s been conditioned to believe that the wife is suppose to cook the meals and do all of that other bullshit, like clean, take care of the kids, and blow him on a regular basis.
Now for women, it really doesn’t take all of that, because we really don’t expect much from you guys. All you have to do, guys, is pay some bills and kill a few bugs. That’s about it. You do anything above that, we brag to our girlfriends. “James vacuumed the living room. I didn’t even have to ask him.”
And guys, you have to pay your share of the bills. Well, you do if you want to drive the marriage car. You can be the stay-at-home dad and take care of the kids if ya want, but no matter how cool and appreciative your wife seems to be about it, in the back of her mind, she’s thinking, Look at him, playing Mr. Mom like a lil’ bitch. Shit, I can pay for daycare. When is his punk ass gonna go out and get a real job? She’ll probably never say it, but trust me, she’s thinking it. Check her out; you’ll catch her just staring at you for a few seconds. That’s when she’s wishing you were somebody else.
The husband expects to be behind the wheel of the marriage car by default. It’s just the way it is. Well, in my marriage, that’s where I had a problem. I believe if you aren’t pulling your weight then you don’t get to drive. I was like, “Scoot your ass over to the passenger side. I’m the one who’s putting gas in this mu’fucka.” And as you know, two people can’t drive a car at the same time, so that’s how we crashed. We totaled our ride. Luckily, I was able to walk away from the crash and I have been happily hoofing it ever since. Walking is great exercise. It’s stress free. I highly recommend it.
Check, Please
Who’s footing the bill? That’s who gets to drive. A friend of mine makes more money than her boyfriend and they are thinking about getting married. She asked me what I thought. I told her, “Don’t do it.” It didn’t have anything to do with the financial situation; I just never tell anybody to get married. She insisted that I give her some real advice so I told her that they both have to be comfortable with the fact that she makes more money than he does. However, he can’t be too comfortable with it. You don’t want to come home and he’s there in his drawers, lounging on the sofa, eating Fritos and rubbing his new gut, talking about, “How’s my little breadwinner doing? Ricki Lake was real good today. Oh, I ordered a few things online today. Who knew Sean John made leather umbrellas? I’m sure you don’t mind since you bring home the big bucks.” She’s still single.
Save the Date
To some women, marriage is really the wedding. Have you noticed that when a woman’s ultimate goal is to get married, all she really thinks about is the dreamy, elaborate wedding? Not the aftermath.
Me: Wow, you are actually getting married! Do you think you’re ready?
Her: Yeah, I’ve got all the bridesmaids’ dresses picked out. The date is secured at our church. I’m gonna wear my hair down and long. All the invitations have gone out. I can’t wait!
Me: Cool. So do you think you’re ready to get married?
Have you seen these women who don’t even have boyfriends lined up, waiting to storm Filene’s Basement or some other store for the big bridal sale? Hell, these desperate women will have the entire wedding planned before they even meet their future husbands. What kind of bullshit is that? You don’t see single men saving up for weddings. We see single men blowing all of their money on strippers and beer.
Ask Him
Have you ever asked a married woman her opinion and you get her husband’s opinion? And it could be about nothing or her.
Me: I think your hair would look nice short and curly. Do you think you’ll ever cut it all off?
Wife: My husband likes my hair long and straight. He couldn’t imagine the thought of me ever cutting it all off. There’s no way he’d let me do that.
Me: You didn’t answer the question. What do you think?
Wife: I think he’d think I’d look like a boy and that would really freak him out in bed.
Me: Hey, that outfit looks great on you. Where’d you get it?
Wife: My husband thinks it makes me look fat.
Me: Okay, the next time we talk, just put your husband on the phone, cut out the middle man.
It’s like their personalities are on hiatus or something. All questions get forwarded to that stupid part of your brain that worships your husband. Please don’t show your friends this side if you have it. If I offer you a compliment, don’t ruin it with your husband’s words. Take it. You need it. Trust me. Married friends, when your personality is taking this break, please don’t answer my calls. I called to talk to you, not your husband.
The Vows
When you get married and have a traditional wedding, you have to stand there before everybody and God and say “…Till death do us part.” That’s the vow you make. Stay together forever. The divorce rate is sky high so basically everybody’s just lying their asses off. I blame the vows. It’s asking way too much of us. We don’t know everything about this person. That’s why we’re marrying them. We don’t know that he’s going to clip his toenails in the living room.
Why don’t we come clean? Why don’t we just be honest? Instead of standing there saying “till death do us part” let’s just go, “I’ll give it a shot.” Or “I’m cool as long as he don’t do nothing stupid.” Let’s make the commitment a little more realistic.
They say marriage is a contract. No it’s not. Contracts come with warranties. When something goes wrong, you can take it back to the manufacturer. When your husband starts acting up, you can’t take him back to his mama’s house. “Uh, he’s broke. I don’t know. He just stopped working. He’s just laying around on the couch making a funny noise.”
You can’t do that. “…Till death do us part.” See, that’s from biblical times. Moses wrote that. That’s in the Old Testament. That goes way, way back. See, they had no problems saying “till death do us part” back then because they didn’t have that much long to live. They had great plagues during those days. As soon as that guy got on your nerves, here comes some locusts. The locusts show up and eat his ass right up for you, problem gone.
Now we got antibiotics, personal trainers, and tofu. We just hang around forever, getting on each other’s nerves, waiting it out. One day you’ll end up just looking at each other. “I see you got up today. You should start smoking.”
Love Ain’t…
Now before I start, let me just say that I read or more like I’ve read the Bible and I do believe in God and I’ve been baptized. So now let’s get to the funny.
Ladies, if you really want to know how men think, read the Bible. They wrote it. I know that the Bible is the inspired word of God, but He left it up to men to tell the story. I couldn’t find a book in the Old or New Testaments that was penned by a woman. Even the books about women, Ruth and Esther, we don’t know if they wrote their own stories; the authors are unknown. Ruth and Esther probably did write their books and then God gave them to a man to do a rewrite. “Mordecai, punch this up. And take out all of these hearts above the I’s and those smiley faces. Jeez, this scented paper is giving me a headache.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“And who writes the Word in pink ink?”
You can tell men wrote the Bible, because it reads like an action movie. With snakes, floods, murder, an ocean voyage, a whore, and a hero. For men, all of that makes for some good reading.
It’s no wonder they didn’t let women write the Bible. If they had, it would have read more like People. John 11:35, “Jesus wept. He was wearing a flowing ecru robe gathered loosely at the waist and made-to-order open-toe sandals by Cobbler. The only accessory missing from this perfect desert ensemble was Mary Magdalene. Rumor has it that they broke up.”
I’ve got to give men credit, though. They used the
Bible to their advantage. I’m not just talking about the way they made excuses for the way they dealt with women. For example, Mary had to be made pregnant by God. Not some shepherd or even a wise man, but God. That’s the only way a man would accept his wife having an affair. Hey, you can hold your ground if your baby’s daddy is God.
What got me on this “men wrote the Bible” thinking was when I attended a wedding and the passage of Scripture of what is love was read. Listening to the words, “Love is patient; love is kind,” it hit me that no woman wrote it. This was definitely written by men. They were trying to cover themselves, and God knew how they were going to be getting in all kinds of trouble and getting on our nerves. He tried to help them out with 1 Corinthians.
We’ve all heard them before. It’s used a lot in wedding vows, and it’s the perfect way for the minister to tell the bride, “Don’t act a fool.” Because he’s reading it right out of the Bible.
Love is patient; love is kind.
Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.
It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;
It does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in truth.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
And now faith, hope, and love abide, and the greatest of these is love.
According to this, has anybody ever been in “love” for real? I know I haven’t. Please, you couldn’t find better fiction in Oprah’s book club. It’s obvious a man wrote this because he never actually said what he meant. But if you really want to know what’s behind these words, let me translate them for you.