My Bloody Valentine

I have nothing against jocks. Jocks don’t make things complicated (on the rare occasions that they don’t already find a thing complicated in the first place). Jocks are fine. Good jocks, that is. There are also bad jocks, the ones who propagate the theory that the way to make your girlfriend happy is to give her a credit card when she’s upset and buy her soft toys with hearts on them for Valentine’s Day.

If you’ve ever walked past a trinket shop on the 13th of February around closing time you will invariably have found a spattering of nervous oafs clutching either a furry bear, or something with a picture of a furry bear on it, looking very pleased with themselves, thinking “Bears are cute…she likes bears. Maybe she’ll let me…no, forget it. Hmm, R19.95, that’s steep…I’m splashing out so maybe she’ll let me…” and so forth. These guys are not so much treating their loved ones as they are assuring themselves of their own treat. This is not love, but leverage.

At least these guys have got girlfriends to disappoint. At the other side of the spectrum there’s the nerds, guys who spend four years mustering the courage to sms the girl of their dreams only to find that she’s spent the time getting married to someone else, giving birth to two blue-eyed kids and forgetting entirely about the night she talked for two hours about also having played Dungeons and Dragons as a child with the slightly fidgety guy at that party. He, meanwhile, has spent those four years talking about a short movie he wants to make - but never will - about that exact encounter.

But whether you’re more a jock than nerd or the other way around, you will just want to be loved this Valentines, like the rest of us. So for this, the Game Of Love Edition, we’ve made a special effort. Why? Because we love you, of course.

The Editor

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