Today we salute Notre Dame's Real Men of Genius, without whom college would simply not be the same. They are one of a kind. They make us smile, they freak us out, they push the limits of acceptable behavior, and we love them for it. Here is to you:
Mr. Prankster Who Poses As A Pizza Guy. You carry a pizza box. Somehow you come attired in full Papa John issued apparel. You guarantee it hot, and you have the pizza warmer to prove it. Are you really a pizza delivery guy, or did you make a few free throws and win that snazzy number as part of a promotional give-away? You wait until we are really hungry to knock on our door. You come to our party and say, "Hey it's me, the pizza man!" You make us laugh crazy pizza man, and you make us cry when you show us the pizza box in fact contains no pizza at all, but just a few cans of Keystone Light. We do not know you, but believe me when I say that we all love you. Here is to you:
Mr. Cheerleader with the Spiky Hair. You cheer so hard, but you look so good. Your round-offs are flawless, and trust me when I tell you that you belong on the top of those pyramids. Go Irish? No, Go You! Go you cheerleader man! You are in the choir, and I have heard your voice above the rest. our passion is contagious, and you truly are the sixth man. Thanks for cheering, for getting me to cheer even when I have lost all desire to do so, and for looking so good in the process. Here is to you:
Mr. Cabbie Who Owns the Company. You pick us up at 4 a.m., even though you have an MD from Harvard and a garage full of Porsches. You do it for the kids. When all your drivers are busy, it is you, the big boss who runs the show, who answers our prayers and brings us home. Thanks for caring, and thanks for cleaning up the mess my roommate left in your backseat on his birthday. You are never out of business cards, and you guarantee the best prices in town. $3 flag drop? You scoundrel, you have kids to feed and patients to perform on. Here is to you:
Mr. Deion from the Linebacker. You are a legend man, and I will remember the nights we have spent together. You are the king of cool and the sultan of swing. Your rhythm is intoxicating, your cadence unrivaled. On anybody else, a bike helmet and a Bears jersey would look silly. You never get sick of the high five, and we love you for it. You picked the Panthers in October, you raving genius. You are mad I tell you, mad. Thanks for making me dance, for letting us circle around you and emulate your moves. You never stop dancing, and you always make us smile. I'll pick you up tomorrow. Here is to you:
Mr. Metrosexual. In a world where black roll-neck sweaters raise eyebrows, you wear them with grace. Is it okay if you dance with my girlfriend? I would rather you did not. You buy girls drinks and make them uncomfortable. You subscribe to Maxim and the Playboy Channel. You demean women, but we love you anyway. You are our roommate, our friend since freshman year, and we will always have your back. Here is to you:
Mr. Crew Member from Connecticut. You eat lunch at 8:30 in the morning, but make sure to tell the class that you have three-a-days this week and need your nourishment. But do not worry, even if the University does not recognize your varsity athlete status, we all do. So do our friends at Grab & Go. Somehow you are allowed eight sides to my four, but I would not think of holding that against you. You have restored our rowing program to national prominence and catapulted Notre Dame up two spots in the Sears Cup. When I see the number one lit up on top of Grace Hall, I will know whom to thank. Last, but not least, here is to you:
Mr. 30 Year-Old Who Cannot Let Go. You went to school with my dad, but drive up every weekend to party with us and relive those glory days. You bring us Mad Dogs and buy us shots. You reminisce on that day when our women's basketball team finally beat UCONN and you rushed the floor. You were always the craziest. The key is under the mat and the couch is always open. We love you man. Here is to you.
I do not know what we would do without you guys. You are the best. Here is to all of you.
David Barrett is a senior economics and philosophy major. His column appears every other Tuesday. He can be contacted at dbarret1@nd.edu.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not neccessarily those of The Observer.
