Dear Kevin Federline-with-man-boobs,

Congratulations. You are the official winner of this month’s ‘That Guy’ award. Your prize package includes:

-a pastel polo shirt that hugs your arms and chest oh-so-tightly

-a fitted hat for you to wear sideways to impress all your friends

-three gallons of horse-testosterone, just in case that daily blend of whey protein, alcohol and sexual inadequacy ever stops giving you the need to show everyone on campus that they shouldn’t mess with you.

I know this may not seem like much of an accomplishment (believe me, nobody would be surprised if you’ve won this before), but you shouldn’t take it lightly. After all, Syracuse University is so full of over-amped, testosterone-driven bros looking to prove themselves that any decent-sized party is one beer-pong dispute away from the bridge scene in ‘Saving Private Ryan.’

Still, you take the cake. Your epic performance that fateful night showed such genuine, unbridled, alpha male, jerk-tacular aggression that I’ve chosen you for this award over many deserving finalists.

For example, the guys who yell at my window from Comstock Avenue every weekend could easily take the prize on any given month. They’re loud, obnoxious and have no shot at scoring with the girls they’re trying to show off for on the way back to BBB. Besides, fellas, the girls would much rather you pay attention to the guys about to mug you, who couldn’t care less about how much more awesome you are than me. Here’s to hoping second-place is a consolation for your stolen iPod.

Also, the morons at Archbold Gymnasium who take pick-up basketball WAY too seriously are very worthy ‘That Guy’ candidates. Plus, their over-competitive antics could provide some much-needed comedy to the awards ceremony. Trust me, nothing’s funnier than watching two friends restrain their short-tempered point guard as he screams ‘HOLD ME BACK!’ after someone smudges his Pumas.

Finally, the people who yell ‘FRESHMEN!!’ at innocent first-years are perennial ‘That Guy’ nominees. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly upperclassmen forget how much they hated those jerk-offs when they were freshmen. Seriously guys, making fun of 18-and 19-year-olds for being a couple years younger than you is like O.J. Simpson criticizing Chris Brown for hitting Rihanna.

Regardless, you’ve got ’em all beat. Your actions are so ridiculous that they stand alone among a field of worthy candidates who would gladly fight you if they caught you checking out their girlfriend. And by ‘girlfriend,’ I mean the girl they used to hook up with. And by ‘used to hook up with,’ I mean flirted with at a frat party and got her phone number from Facebook.

It wasn’t by accident that you beat them out, though you really had to try to get this award. When a falling-down-drunk sorority girl asked you to go fight a complete stranger for no reason, you could’ve told her, ‘no.’ You could have said, ‘I’ve never met this guy and you smell like whiskey mixed with pavement,’ and then walked away.

Instead, when you walked unannounced into my room and were promptly informed that the guy you were looking for was not there, you could have said, ‘You know what, these guys mean me no harm,’ or even, ‘Let’s hug it out,’ or maybe, ‘Why does your room look like the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo?’

But, no. You came to my room that night for one reason and one reason only: to fight someone. Luckily, you were restrained before you could validate yourself by trampling a guy half your size.

Still, you embarrassed yourself, your friends and your university. So, my friend, you are ‘That Guy’ of the month.

Congratu-f***ing-lations,

Danny

PS: These prizes are non-refundable. Good luck in next year’s Kentucky Derby.

Danny Fersh is a sophomore broadcast journalism major, and he could totally kick your a**, bro. His columns appear every Wednesday and – What’s that, punk? Wanna fight? Yea, that’s what I thought. Watch ‘The Fresh Squeeze’ this weekend at dailyorange.com and feel free to send Danny your own ‘That Guy’ nominees at dafersh@syr.edu.