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Majoring in Jocks
|Going to college in south Florida has many advantages, most related to weather. Principal among these is the propensity for young, buffed guys out enjoying the warmth of the fun not to wear shirts. Add to the mix the extensive modeling scene and the support for it emanating out of South Beach, with scouts, photographers, and videographers scouting out fresh, hard-bodied muscleboys, a sexy club scene featuring beautiful people, including very stud guys, from all the Americas, plus the mass popularity of sports in Florida, most of all that most masculine sporting activity, football, and you have a potent mix for those who voyeuristically enjoy the sight of muscular, tanned, male flesh. It exists in abundance, from high school tracks to outdoor basketball courts to the abundance of those temples of muscularity, gyms, and everything comes together to create a veritable feast for the voyeuristically-inclined. Highways are filled with topless jeeps filled with topless muscle jocks; gym parking lots feature muscle cars earned by the muscular models who, having pumped up, strip bare to the waist as they walk toward their vehicles, and Ocean Drive is a paradise of buffness. The local big university—call it the U—is famous for both football and baseball, and of course in modern bigtime college sports a totally serious weight-lifting complex, just for the varsity jocks, is part of the package, as important as nubile, willing coeds who love athletes, contacts with the pros, and modern dorms. It is quite for common for an already well-built freshman jock to add serious pounds of muscle mass, definition, and ripped-ness over the course of the young stud’s first year or two in school. The youthful, buffed coaching staffs, sometimes overseen by an aging patriarch known for his connections to the professional sports ranks, understand the mindset of the young studs who find they have it good in college and who have grown up in an era much more publicly appreciate of male jock beauty. These coaches help guide the young athletes who they know like to be as big and ripped and also look as hot as possible and who, in the sexually charged atmosphere of a near-tropical climate, respond well to the guidance designed not only to make them stronger and more aggressive athletes, but also bigger studs off the field. Another important function of the assistant coaches is to keep the young muscle colts academically eligible. This is accomplished easily enough by a careful study of classes, and even majors, that require modest effort. And as the male-bonded athletes already spend a lot of time together practicing, eating, pumping serious iron, and socializing in bars, clubs, and on the beaches, you find them together in identifiable courses. I accidentally discovered this when I took a class on the sociology of sports. I had seen a group of studs hanging out at an outdoor café in their 2xist wifebeaters looking good enough to eat, massive, muscled, their tans looking fine against the snow-white, muscle-hugging tanktops that accentuated their massive V-shaped upper bodies. They were talking about what classes they would be signing up for in summer school, and as I ogled their handsome maleness I vowed to sign up just to have the opportunity to gaze on them, to watch their muscles rippled as they breathed and flex as they stretched. All this came true, and I swore to myself that I would find a way to “major in jocks” by somehow learning what classes they took en masse. But it paled in comparison to what I was to see when I was able to get into an exclusive fine arts class that was filled with the studs on “The Art of Modern Male Photography,” whose course description mentioned such artists as Weber, Ritts, Bianchi, Jacobsen, Williams, and Underhill. A computer search-engine afternoon opened up my sheltered self to what had been accomplished by these artists, and I eagerly anticipated the class. This was especially because of the tantalizing statement in the description that the course would not only study the artists and the current manifestations of such work as seen in advertising, videos, and websites/webmagazines, but would also include “photography workshops bringing together class members and artists.” On the first day of what somehow turned out to be an all-male class, which I had been admitted to due to the connections I had been able to establish with the Athletic Department, it was even more amazing than I had dreamed possible: 10 buffed football jocks, 6 hard-bodied baseball players, 2 student body members already working as professional models, plus me and 2 other similarly-inclined guys, whom the jocks immediately labeled “waterboys.” |
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