Bystander

Harvard is a great place to nourish a guilty pleasure.

It’s real easy: just lie to your roommate, something innocuous, like “I’m going to study in Lamont.” Then disappear for six hours of Magic: The Gathering or “Rock of Love with Bret Michaels,” shuffle back to your room bleary-eyed, and he or she will think nothing of it.

What’s more, we assume that all our peers are constantly devoting themselves to the things we ourselves ought to be doing: studying for classes, finding jobs, calling grandmothers. This really ramps up the guilt factor.

I recently discovered that, when he’s not hazing punches or drinking in section, Bennett C. Braddock III ’08 enjoys a truly unexpected pastime: women’s varsity sports.

I was at last weekend’s women’s volleyball match, cheering on a friend. Imagine my surprise when I spotted Braddock at the other end of the bleachers.

Bennett! Didn’t expect to see you here… what gives?

“You caught me, man,” he sighed, shuffling my way. “I just love their competitive spirit, sound fundamentals, and winning sportsmanship. Hey, don’t tell the guys back at the club….”

Your secret is safe—although I’m pretty sure I saw some members of the team at your last party. I definitely would not have pegged you as a staunch supporter of Title IX.

“I’m not gonna lie, dude. I’m a big fan of their short shorts, too.”

Aha! And that probably means that you’re also dating several players on the team.

“Not this team…. It all started sophomore year. This basketball player would only go out with me if I watched her games. I went to one, and when she missed a game-winner, I broke up with her on principle. Plus, the point guard was way cuter.”

An errant serve whizzed past his head. “I really enjoyed the game though, and I kept coming back. Those girls can play.”

A member of the visiting team went up for a spike, revealing a strip of toned midriff. Bennett yelled something flattering in her direction.

This caught the attention of Maya D. Simpson ’11, who was sitting a few rows away. Maya had short, choppy, jet-black hair, and wore a blood-red t-shirt. She turned to face Braddock, and from behind thick-rimmed glasses rolled her eyes incredulously.

“I’m here to support my roommate,” she said, pointing at a gangly-looking girl who was sitting on the bench. “I don’t need to listen to your obnoxious comments.”

Bennett chuckled, and then whispered to me, “Yeah, like she wasn’t thinking the exact same thing I was.”

He yelled to her, “You’re not getting into our next party with that attitude, baby.” That signature wink again.

“God, you people make me sick,” Maya replied disgustedly. “Get a hobby.”

But Bennett Braddock already had one.