I Am Not Your Bro
Call me a hater. Call me a buzzkill. Call me an old man. But don’t call me a bro. I’m not a bro. I’m not your bro, I’m a bad bad man.
I’m in Bro rehab. This is my first step. Usually the first step in a rehab process is admitting that you are what you detest the most: A broholic. This is a new rehab program. I made it out of necessity. So the one thing I can admit is that I was a bro. I’m not, but I was.
The first step in my rehab is admission. So consider this my confession.
I broke a lot of inanimate objects. I said a lot of hurtful things. I did a lot of things I am not proud of. I was a bro. I had long hair. Before it was cool to have long hair. I had the king of all long hairstyles. The mullet. I was business in the front and party in the back. Sure I was 14, but still.
I did all of these horrible things because I thought it was cool to do them. Not because I played lacrosse.
But playing lacrosse was part of it. I know that now.
My fellow lacrosse players. I say this because you must know what it is to be free.
The Bro movement must die for us to live.