I know you will join me in thanking the powers that be at this fine Southern newspaper for their wisdom in running our much-needed advice on Valentine’s Day. As I understand it, they assembled with the thought of choosing just the right person to help save some of the lost, helpless, love-challenged fellas who are known to roam the streets of our fine town.
We cannot be sure that committee did choose the right person. We can only be sure that – when they exhausted their list of qualified candidates – we were the last man standing. That’s more than I can say about some of you fellas if you don’t figure out Valentine’s Day by tonight!
In all humility, we think the committee may a sound selection. After all, we are not just the president of the “L.O.V.E” Club (Lovers of Valentine’s Excitement). We, certainly, were once a client.
So all of you men who are desperately hoping to survive today, please read on. Everything could ride on the next two minutes. You have to get this right.
Of course, that’s what we’re here for, to help you prepare.
There was a time when men hated this day. But, fellas, you will be glad to know that such just isn’t the case anymore. Not since we started the L.O.V.E. Club. Maybe we can’t help all men, but I know we’ve helped the charter members of our exclusive club: Bubba, Rowdy, Randy, Pippen, Coca-Cola Mike (of course), and Benny.
This year I think we have come up with our best plan ever to make this Valentine’s the greatest. I made the announcement recently to our fine colleagues as soon as we were all seated in an undisclosed location for our annual “survival” meeting.
“Fellas,” I said, “you’re not goin’ to believe what we’re goin’ to do this year to whip Valentine’s Day into submission.”
“What, Coach?” they pleaded in unison, anxious for another year of success.
“Well,” I began, “Not long ago when I was out shopping for shoes with the amazin’ blonde …” – and all the men gasped in unison at the brilliance of what they had just heard – “I saw a little doll called “Mr. Wonderful” in one of the stores. You pull this fella’s string, and he says all the right things. So I thought: What if we could all say the right things this Valentine’s. Wouldn’t our wives think we were Mr. Wonderful, too, minus the string?”
“Sure!” Coca-Cola Mike exclaimed, leading the pack, “Great idea. But what is it that we say?”
“Glad you asked, C.C.,” I said, “I’ve made a little list. You can pick and choose the ones that you think will grab Glory’s heart the quickest. Ready?”
“You bet! Lay ‘em on us.”
So I began to read my list, and all their eyes grew big and their mouth began to water with each word:
You’ll see why:
“Good morning, honey, I’ll bring you breakfast in bed as soon as I get up and vacuum the house.”
“Me watch the game tonight? Nah, I’d rather sit here and look in your eyes.”
“You cook tonight? Don’t be silly. We’re goin’ out for a romantic candlelight dinner, and afterwards I’d like to go to the mall and look for you a new pair of shoes to match that purse you bought last week.”
“You fat, honey??? Are you crazy? That lamp that fell was already leaning over when you walked by!”
I could tell Benny was about to bust and just had to interrupt:
“Aw, Coach,” he said, “that’s pretty, pretty, pretty. You’ve already given us enough for me to make this my sweet Sharon’s best Valentine’s yet.”
“Let me give you one more, my personal favorite,” I said, “And, if you use this one at just the right moment, your Valentine’s Day could surpass your wildest dreams.”
“Aw, man, that’d be too sweet. Tell us, tell us, tell us!”
“All right,” I said, “This is what you say to make your sweet lady call you ‘Mr. Wonderful’ from now ‘til the Fourth of July.”
Rowdy and Randy, Billy Lee and C.C. sat up anxiously. Benny and Pippen were drooling, literally.
“It’s really pretty simple,” I said, “Just say this. Say: ‘Sweetie-pie, did you know that you’re my sports hero: You’re a hole-in-one, homerun, touchdown, three-point shot, and a perfect game rolled into one sweet little package.’” (I made these up. I promise, and the originality did not escape our desperate Valentine heroes.)
“Aw, that’s great!” said Rowdy. “And you can throw in Most Valuable Player and Masters Champion, too.”
“And Heavyweight Champion of the World!” said Benny, jumping up with enthusiasm.
Not to dampen his excitement, I had to cringe just a moment at that remark. And, for the record, come Wednesday, I’m thinking Benny may be the first Mr. Wonderful ever to show up at my doorstep with a black eye!