Unless you live in a cave or have been competing on
“Survivor” for the past year, you have seen and love
the hit Bravo show “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.” In
the series, five gay men ““ the Fab Five ““ perform
makeovers on inept straight men in an effort to make them more
desirable to women.
It’s strangely ironic, yet brilliant at the same time.
Being the inquisitive person I am (I still wonder how Jell-O
works), I got to wondering what would happen if the tables were
turned.
So I spent a Sunday afternoon with my friend Derek, an openly
gay fourth-year student who is as interested in sports as Halle
Berry is in me, and went to work on making him over. Here then, is
“Sports Eye for the Queer Guy,” my crusade to turn my
sports-hating chum into a football fanatic.
Derek and I sat down at his place to watch a little football.
Before we could get any viewing done, I had to snatch the chilled
Cosmopolitan out of his well-manicured hands and replace it with a
lukewarm Budweiser. True.
Next, I disposed of the salmon pâte and pepper crackers he
had prepared and replaced them with seven-layer dip and tortilla
chips from Costco. I took two large slabs of raw meat out to be
barbequed, only to find the grill occupied by tofu, zucchini and
bell peppers. Goodbye, veggie delight. Hello, carnivore.
I forced Derek, kicking and screaming, to replace his Gucci
shirt with my torn Mike Alstott jersey, then applied eye black to
his face. If it wasn’t for his hair, which he cut himself, he
was starting to look like a real sports fan.
A double-barreled beer helmet took care of the hair obstacle in
a hurry. Covering one manicured paw with a foam finger and the
other with athletic tape, we were, as they say, ready for some
football.
We were watching the Giants v. Dophins game, and there was
plenty of work left for me to do.
“Would you look at the locks on that man? Absolutely
gorgeous! Look at them shimmer!” Derek said.
I hate to think what Jeremy Shockey’s response would be if
he had known the hair being praised was his own. Based on
Shockey’s alleged comments toward Bill Parcells earlier this
year, controversy would haven undoubtedly ensued.
Around the second quarter Derek changed the station to some ice-
skating competition, and very nearly earned himself a face full of
seven-layer dip. Lucky for him, he was wearing my jersey.
When Ricky Williams got some airtime, Derek almost had a
stroke.
“Who is that guy’s stylist? Give me two hours with
him, and I could make magic happen. Honestly, mister, you need some
major attention.”
At this point, I decided to teach Derek some football lingo that
would help him fit in. I made him say “Kill him!” every
time Williams carried the ball.
Derek kept telling me that if he played football he would be the
center, because he was so enthralled with direct snaps. My answer
to this was to make Derek say “Put him in the
hospital!” whenever Shockey caught a pass. I also convinced
him he shouldn’t root for the Dolphins just because their
uniforms looked “prettier.”
By the end of the game, Derek was screaming profanities at
300-pound linemen, asking why I hadn’t bought more beer, and
telling me why he would have gone for it on fourth and two from the
opposition’s 35-yard line. All in all, I’d say the
makeover was successful.
If you want to give Karon a makeover, e-mail him at
ekaron@media.ucla.edu.