Dear Faux Pelini: About that Ryan Day apology …

LINCOLN, NE - SEPTEMBER 28: Head coach Ryan Day of the Ohio State Buckeyes on the field before the game against the Nebraska Cornhuskers at Memorial Stadium on September 28, 2019 in Lincoln, Nebraska. (Photo by Steven Branscombe/Getty Images)
By Faux Pelini
Nov 14, 2020

Editor’s note: During the college football season @FauxPelini answers your football and life questions. These are actual questions from actual readers seeking advice. Send yours to [email protected].

Dear Faux Pelini,

Ohio State coach Ryan Day apologized for scoring the last touchdown against Nebraska. Do you think he should apologize for scoring the other touchdowns too? — Ben P.

Well Ben,

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Ryan Day seems like a nice enough guy, I guess. After his Buckeyes blew out Nebraska 52-17 a few weeks ago, Day said he regretted Ohio State piling on its seventh touchdown with 18 seconds left.

“At the end of the game there, if I could do that again, I would have taken a knee,” Day said. He even mentioned that he would apologize to Nebraska coach Scott Frost.

Was this apology necessary, Ben? Was it even real?

Let’s explore.

Like any good clean-up, an effective apology is quick and thorough. After doing his damage, an apologist has a short window to try to mend fences and help his victim get some closure.

It’s important to distinguish between real apologies and fake ones, though. Fake apologies are collections of words masquerading as real apologies, but they serve a very different purpose.

I present the Three Types of Fake Apologies:

The conditional apology. These apologies are fake because they are dependent on the victim’s state of mind, which is a convenient way for the apologist to try to share the blame with his prey. A conditional apology is easy to spot because it usually begins with the words “I’m sorry if,” as in “I’m sorry if I offended anyone” or “I’m sorry if you were planning to eat those fries.” It moves the spotlight off the apologist and onto his victim, implying that the victim’s expectations or sensitivity are the real problem.

A real apology recognizes that although there may be multiple causes of the mess, the apologist is sorry for his role in it. Period. A real apology is not a negotiation and requires no fact-checking.

The Over-Apology. This happens when the apologist bombards the victim with pleas of “can you forgive me” and “I am so so so sorry”, and maybe even the dreaded “Are you mad at me?” This apology fails because it’s designed to advance the apologist’s recovery, not the victim’s.

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A real apology gives the victim some comfort and closure. An over-apology, on the other hand, gives the victim a project: to reassure the apologist that things are OK, that the mess they made wasn’t really so bad. In an over-apology situation, not only does the victim have to deal with the mess, they have to help clean it up.

The Flex-Apology. This one is sneaky because on its face, it sounds and looks like a real apology. But it is fake because its purpose is not to make the victim feel better, but to highlight the apologist’s superiority.

The flex-apology is favored by the same people who randomly mention the charities they give to, or the family events they’ve missed because of Important Meetings, or that they are SO BUSY at work. These people do not miss opportunities to send subliminal messages reinforcing their supposed power and importance.

The flex-apologist earnestly expresses regret that his superiority has created unfortunate consequences for his victim. But really, the flex-apology serves only one purpose: to shine a light on the apologist’s strengths. The flex-apologist doesn’t really want to make things better, because he likes things the way they are.

Ben, that brings us to Ryan Day’s apology to Nebraska. Was it real, or fake?

Day’s apology was most certainly fake. In fact, Day’s apology was the rare double whammy: both an over-apology and a flex-apology.

“Sorry we scored that extra touchdown” just means “sorry that you suck.” It is a raw and unfiltered flex-apology. It implies that there was nothing Nebraska could do to stop Ohio State — which was kind of true that day, by the way. But calling attention to it by issuing a public fake apology just shines a bright brag-light on the Buckeyes. It’s like saying “sorry you’re poor” or “sorry my biceps are so much bigger than yours.”

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Day’s comments also qualified as an over-apology, because it forced Frost to respond with the required line from the Coachspeak Handbook, “If we want the score to be different, we need to play better.” It’s an embarrassing, awkward thing for any coach to have to say about his players, and Day forced Frost to go there.

Ryan Day may have meant no harm, and he may very well have regretted that last touchdown. But not all regrets require apologies. Sometimes the punishment for making a mistake is just living with it.

And maybe Day did give a real apology to Frost in private, which is what he should have done in the first place. In sports, the real apologies are the ones we never hear about. 

Dear Faux Pelini,  

Do you tip at a restaurant on a takeout order? — Steve S.

Hey Steve,

I get it, modern tipping is a struggle. More and more people have their hands in our pockets, but even the traditional tipping rules don’t make much sense. We know that delivery guys and bartenders deserve tips, but we wouldn’t think of tipping pilots or firefighters. So, chicken wings: tip. Flying you across the country: no tip. Vodka tonic: tip. Saving your cat from a burning building: no tip.

So, let’s think about this guy working at the restaurant takeout stand. I mean, does he work for tips? Unlike a waiter, Takeout Guy seems to have other duties, like answering phones and pointing drunks to the bathroom. I don’t think you have to tip Takeout Guy, but lots of people do, so here we are.

How should we handle Takeout Guy?

First, there are things you should not tip Takeout Guy for. Making a grand display of packaging your takeout order in a private little food show will not cut it. Packaging is part of the deal when you order takeout; you weren’t going to show up with a bucket and a spoon.

You also aren’t tipping Takeout Guy for announcing each item that’s in the bag and going over the list with you to make sure everything is correct. Confirming your order is his job, not yours.

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Slipping extra sauces and utensils in your bag won’t earn Takeout Guy a tip either. That extra junk costs him nothing, and will just sit in your kitchen drawer for three months because you feel bad throwing unopened stuff in the trash.

Steve, it’s actually simple. Takeout Guy will earn a tip by providing you one of two services:

Speed. From the moment you arrive at the restaurant, you want to get out of there. You’re hungry, you haven’t bathed in 36 hours and you’re wearing a hoodie and pajama pants. If you were meant to be seen in public you’d be sitting in the dining room with the showered folk. If Takeout Guy can get you on your way in under four minutes, he gets paid.

Attention. If Takeout Guy greets you right away, keeps you updated and doesn’t leave you to aimlessly linger in the lobby like a weird uncle at a playground, he wins. A little attention goes a long way while you’re waiting for a meal.

Steve, you don’t have to tip Takeout Guy. But if he’s speedy and attentive, show him love in its purest form: cash.

Dear Faux Pelini,  

I have a friend that absolutely refuses to wear a mask, and I can’t handle it. Has nothing to do with COVID, he is just very unfortunate looking. — Jamie B.

Dear Jamie,

COVID sucks, but you know what they say — every cloud has a silver lining, every thorn has its rose. Even when you fall down a flight of stairs there’s the moment of relief when your face hits the landing.

So, even something as awful as COVID isn’t all bad. For example, I bet you’ve learned some things over the past several months.

You’ve probably learned how to schedule your days more effectively. You now know which times of day are best for you to focus on work (for me, 10:30-10:45am), take naps (sometime between 11:10 a.m. and 6:25 p.m.) and have a snack (any time between 9:15 a.m. and 11:40 p.m.).

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You’ve also likely learned that people are not so different from one another after all. Back in April you feared that while you were reorganizing your kitchen drawers and screaming advice to contestants on “The Price Is Right”, your neighbors were learning languages and writing books. But lately you’ve come to realize that just like you, your neighbors spend their days puttering around their houses, half-assing e-learning and playing What-Should-We-Have-For-Dinner-I-Don’t-Care-What-Do-You-Feel-Like-How-About-Pizza-No-We-Had-Pizza-On-Monday.

Jamie, I’ll be honest — I don’t really have any advice for how to handle your maskless friend (and technically, you didn’t ask for any). I chose your “question” this week because I laughed out loud when I read it, which reminded me of another important lesson: You can joke about something horrible, even a global pandemic, as long as the joke is funny and doesn’t hurt anybody.

Let’s take these lessons with us after the pandemic is over, Jamie. If a joke is harmless and funny, make it. As long as your work is getting done, take a nap. And if you really feel like having pizza again, have pizza again. Just remember to tip the delivery guy.

(Photo: Steven Branscome / Getty Images)

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Faux Pelini is a contributor to The Athletic College Football. Follow Faux on Twitter @FauxPelini