Loose Men: what makes a real man?

Meeting up with fellow tracksuit-wearers, grabbing some violence-inducing alcoholic beverages, and going to watch the football seems to be considered the epitome of manliness nowadays.
No longer are the crowds impressed when you take on a fully-grown grizzly bear using only a used toothbrush. No longer can you prove your masculinity by whipping out the Speedos, diving into the sea and returning five minutes later with an a 150-kilogram swordfish to feed the family.
No. Going to see football is what all the real ‘men’ seem to be doing. Because, of course, it’s extremely manly to go and watch other people show off the skill and physical prowess that they have trained tirelessly to achieve, while you sit with a can of cheap cider balanced on the bulging curve of your belly, and a never-ending slew of four-letter words spewing from your spittle-flecked mouth.

‘But balancing cider takes skill!’ I hear you cry. Well no, actually, it doesn’t. All it takes is prolonged gluttony and a distinct lack of exercise (or any physical movement) – trust me, try it sometime if you’re sceptical.

Don’t get me wrong, I love football. But if there’s anything that three seasons working at Reading FC’s Madejski Stadium has taught me, it’s that football fans deserve every scrap of ridicule that I, or anyone else, gleefully fire their way. Because, let’s be honest, throwing every shred of self-control you have out the window as soon as you enter a football stadium is not all that manly.

Acting in a way that gains respect from both your peers and members of the opposite sex – now that‘s manly. As is being gentlemanly and prizing your dignity, which means not twisting into a vision of hatred every time your team loses the ball.

Most importantly, though, being a man is about showing respect not just to yourself, but to everyone around you, all the time. It’s certainly not about hurling every four-letter expletive in the English language at that poor ref. Women don’t respect men who regress back through a few thousand years of evolution at the sound of a whistle – but most don’t even realise their hubbies or boyfriends are culprits.

‘Oh, this doesn’t apply to Warwick students!’ I hear you rudely interrupt again. Firstly, shut up. And secondly, I can see how you Warwick boys might not think this rant applies to you, with your overpriced Calvin Klein underwear, love of real ale and passion for rugby.

But the real question that rises out of all this, and is relevant to every man, including you, is this: would the women in your life still respect you if they could see how you act when they’re not around?

If you have to think about your answer, then you’re probably doing something wrong.