Has this week”s departure of Drew Henson left you feeling a little more blue than maize? Do you find yourself daydreaming away your chemistry lectures, hoping that this was just a cruel pre-April Fool”s Day joke?
I hate to break it to all of you Henson-aholics out there, but I”ll bet you $17 million dollars that the prodigal son of pigskin will not come crawling back to Coach Carr for one more year of college play.
Are you holding out for a hero? If you”ll accept an interim ersatz (for April at least) well, you”ve come to the right column! I”m the Brassy Lassy you seek who can temporarily replace our Golden Boy. I can turn your boo-hoos in to Drew-whos!
Considering I”m a little more Herms than our modern-day Hercules, at first glance, I don”t seem to have anything in common with the Lucky No. 7. The chances of me bringing home a Rose or a Citrus Bowl are highly unlikely unless it can be purchased at Williams-Sonoma.
The fact of the matter is that my replacing Drew is a clear-cut case of numerological predestination. Is it mere coincidence that I went on seven dates for my Blind Date column? Is it just a fluke that last week I wrote about the seven deadly sins at the movies? Is it just an arbitrary editorial decision that usually puts me on page seven of this paper? Well, maybe that”s stretching this a bit.
Furthermore, in the fashion field, the potential Heisman candidate and the Columnist of the Year candidate really hit style out of the park. We both look absolutely smashing in capri pants, crop tops and black eyeliner. Although Drew”s donated threads came free from Nike and are emblazoned with giant M”s, I actually had to pay for my own BCBG”s.
Regardless of that minor league difference, our uniform sense of style
really suggests we are one and the same. However, I would not dare to be
charged with the error of bringing pinstripes and stirrup pants into the
game. The former is too Armani of the “80s for my liking, and the latter,
well, that”s just gross.
And if you thought the Quarterback could bust a move in spiked shoes, then
you should see the Columnist take on Nordstrom”s half-yearly sale in a
pair of stilettos. Never underestimate a woman in heels. A 40-yard dash in
4.6 seconds is more or less equal to a 40-store frenzy in 4.6 hours,
And we both signed lucrative contracts before joining our
respective teams. While Drew”s new salary consists of six little zeros, my
columnist”s salary is full of zeros – a big, fat one, to be exact? Hmm, I
wonder if that highly-scouted arm can throw a chunk of change from Tampa
to Ann Arbor? I”ll be waiting with an open glove.
And now, let”s talk about majors. While Drew is off pursuing a career in
the Majors, I too am honing my skills in the majors – French and
Communications. And although I, too, have received offers this year, I
have not dropped everything for a little third base action. Even though
diamonds are a girl”s best friend, baseball diamonds are of little
interest to me. While they may do it for Drew, unless they come set in platinum and wrapped up in a robin”s egg blue box with white ribbon – no,
Yankee Drew-dle left this town
To be a baseball feller
He stuck an N-Y on his cap
YOU”RE stuck with Meredith Keller!