Volume 95, Issue 27

Friday, October 19, 2001
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Out and proud

Gettin' clubbed

Wearing the same underwear

Wearing the same underwear

Standing O
Ryan Dixon
Sports Editor

For decades now, Hollywood has glamourized the role of the gangster in American culture.

They certainly got the small details down; brash swagger, slicked hair, pin-striped suits and such. However, the goal of the silver screen is to morph intriguing real life roles into characters who take the persona to the next level.

However, Hollywood has made a monumental casting error in the gangster genre – they overdid the sausage.

Women would make far better mob bosses than men. Think about the hallmarks of a good Don – intuitive, well-dressed and ruthless. Now, try and tell me Racquel Welch wouldn't have made a better head of a crime family than Marlon Brando.

Think back to when you were a kid. All those times you thought you were so stealthy getting away with stealing cookies and wearing the same underwear for days assuming nobody would notice. Who was always onto your act?

Screw Santa Claus, it was always mom who really knew when you'd been naughty or nice.

Analyzing things is what women do naturally. When you lie to a man, your story could hold as much water as a shot glass and be effective, but try and slip a white lie past, say, your girlfriend, and you better have an air-tight tale complete with an alibi and a blood sample.

I hear you males out there, proclaiming a real mobster has got to get their hands dirty and just because women know what you've up to, it doesn't mean they've got the rocks to do anything about it.

Think again.

Take it from a sports editor who has seen many a female sporting battle. Without exception, even the biggest, most bruising male athlete could benefit from a drop of estrogen in their game.

In general, men butt heads and usually, at the end of a good tussle, end up patting each other's fannies. Womanly confrontations usually include name calling that would reduce a lineman to tears and grudges that extend far beyond the field of play.

Why would I ruin the gangster fantasy for my gender who have long-fancied the notion we too could someday pull the puppet strings and bully the common folk?

In short, never ask me about my business.

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Copyright The Gazette 2001