The March Madness

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Kenyan men are loyal to four things: sports team(s), barber, mama nguo (cleaning lady), and their girlfriend/wife-in that order.

Men can change their girlfriends, divorce their wives, but will never switch to a different barber or change a mama nguo unless they are relocating to a different city or country.

It therefore beats men; common sense; and logic when women lose their heads over going to Las Vegas, ostensibly to watch the Kenya rugby team play at the Las Vegas leg of the IRB Sevens series.  For men, it can be argued that sports rank above sex. This is not to say that sex is not important-actually sex is great. It is even greater when you imagine it in your local mother-tongue.  But given a choice between a boxing match between Manny Pacquaio and Floyd Mayweather and a one-night-stand with Rihanna, boxing will win any day of the week, every month for a full year!

So, why do women make such a fuss about Vegas? Why do women spend so much-time, energy and resources in an apparent to move to entice men? I know some will say they dress their best-for themselves, but you can tell that to my shoe lace, if at all I have one! There is no place you will see great weaves, more display of ample cleavages accentuated by Victoria Secrets wonder pushup bras, derrieres curved out of a pervert’s imaginations, and backbreaking stilettos than in the rugby tournament in Las Vegas, by, guess who!

It is wrong for women to be presumptuous. It can be a little preposterous.  There was a time sports used to be funny, before women crushed the party. And they are one hell of a disruption. Sometimes men just want to enjoy a game without distractions; enjoy the game and be a boy for old time sake without a woman sneering at you.

We do mind female company to places like Vegas. However, a trip with boys is doubly funny, because you don’t have to look over your shoulder to crack a sexist or inappropriate joke. With women at the table or in the car, you have to self-censor yourself and it limits the fun to almost zero per cent. Besides, very few women really care about the game. Very few women know the arcane intricacies involved in sports. Other than wild cheering and jeering, women don’t understand the emotional aspects of winning and losing. They think we make a big deal of sports over nothing. The same way, we don’t understand the fuss women create with shoes.

Look girls, it is tax season in America.  We just received some little tax refund and all we want to do is invest in something more tangible, other than a three-day tournament. That is why we get vexed with this whole charade of short skirts and stilettos. And when you insist that we tag you along, or joining us on your own, we accept your presence grudgingly. But your company is unnecessarily expensive on our part. It is cheaper hanging out with the men-from choice of accommodation, mode of transport, and what and where to eat and drink.

It is possible that you also want to enjoy the match. Cool. It is possible you want to look your best. Cool. But avoid any disruptive behavior. Don’t dress to ‘kill’. Vegas is definitely not a fashion show. Men just want to catch the 7s, have some wild partying away from the imprisoning shackles of the missus and just be. It doesn’t mean that they are misbehaving.

It is mostly lots of beer. Some gambling. A strip club or a drive through the red-light. And be sure, all these is to cure some curiosities in life, no mischief up their sleeves.

So stay away from us. If you have to come, can you try and be in the background as possible. Better still, don’t invest too much on the weave, stilettos, and short dresses. Chances are we will not notice. If you chose to splurge on one, make sure it matches to the money we are saving for the plot in Kitengela, and hey! The shares are looking up, baby. You know.

 

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