An ad on ESPN stated, “Without sports, there’d be no next year.” Fans of big-time loser teams, like the Tigers and Bengals, always look forward to high expectations for the next season. Although I wouldn’t call this school year a bad one, it had several ups and downs in all aspects of life. Naturally, there is room for improvement to make next year’s school year not perfect, but with just enough problems for me to gripe about each week. The following are my expectations for next year.

I expect sidewalks to be void of any message not in the name of comedy. I don’t care if it’s Amber’s 19th birthday, because I don’t know Amber. However, it wouldn’t hurt to tell the general public that “rehab is for quitters.”

I expect the Falcons’ Nest to grow three sizes this summer, like the Grinch’s heart. If Dining Services wants more of our business by closing some restaurants, they might as well be able to actually accommodate the influx of hungry, ravenous procrastinators.

I expect our fans, especially the students, to cheer for the Falcon football team when they travel down to Columbus and play the reigning national champions, the Ohio State Buckeyes. Can you believe that students around here will actually be cheering for the Buckeyes? I have two theories on this. One is that they were too stupid to go to Ohio State, so they instead came here. The other notion is that they are afraid of cheering for the losing team, so they will jump on the bandwagon. Should the outcome matter? I wouldn’t be surprised if our team made it a close game or if they get beat down 63-7. I expect all the students to be cheering and going nuts when we do score those seven points.

I expect the weather to spastically fluctuate from 30 degrees to 70 degrees from day to day, whether it is September, January or last week.

I expect the campus blotter to provide unforgettable petty criminal reports, such as the “unknown person who reported losing her ID” last fall. Without the blotter, I would never have known that people speed on Alumni Drive.

I expect to own an alarm clock that will not die on me. It should beep incessantly at me in the morning, not sputter and stop. I have only had this alarm for two years, and in that short span it has gone from sounding like Whitney Houston to Macy Gray. I can only imagine what Simon from “American Idol” would say about it. I expect Da Vinci’s Notebook to perform on campus next year. UAO did a fine job, according to the student body, in drawing big time entertainment, such as Ludacris, D. L. Hughley, and the Rock Stock bands. Good for the students, but they weren’t my cup of tea. Da Vinci’s Notebook is an a cappella quartet who sings rather hilarious songs, such as “Enormous Penis” and “Title of the Song.” On top of that, they’re excellent singers. If UAO wants to make another great impression on campus, they better book DVN to keep spirits high.

I expect reality TV shows to sink to even lower depths, as the contestants will have fewer and fewer teeth. Also, they will be viewed only by a small group of high school girls in South Dakota, because that is a boring state.

Most of all, I expect girls to constantly boggle my mind and act without logical reason. As Jerry Seinfeld put it, “I will never understand how a woman can pour hot wax on the inside of her thigh, rip the hair out by the roots and still be afraid of a spider.” For 20 years they have continued to baffle rational thinking, even when I believe I have figured them out. I expect girls to be mentally frustrating, but I also expect guys to get these same girls drunker than Ernest Hemingway on a weekly basis. And I expect to be there, with a camera, and take pictures of their inebriated antics so I can blackmail them later.

Enjoy the summer, and I expect to enjoy watching the Arizona Diamondbacks sweep the Detroit Tigers in Comerica Park and eventually win the World Series. Then again, everyone’s sweeping the Tigers. Don’t let exams prevent you from having good clean Nintendo-style fun this week.