Bobby D'Angelo
You know when you start playing 2k, and you can choose what skill sets you want your player to excel at, whether that be a playmaker, a three-point specialist, or a bruiser in the paint? There’s one option that balances all the abilities, and that’s exactly what Sigma Chi is. Sigma Chi isn’t trapping harder than Phi Psi, hitting the library as hard as Beta, and posting as many shirtless pictures on Instagram as PIKE. They are men of balance, often wearing New Balance. When I think of Sigma Chi, I think of a kid who starts the night bragging about his internship at Deloitte and ends it with a public urination ticket and several missed calls from a girl he claims he’s not dating. Your average Sigma Chi might be better at failing drug tests than Casey Anthony is at disposing children, but you’d be hard pressed to find one that fails all of his classes. Sigma Chi is the place where once good catholic school boys own illadelphs with insurance policies on them. These guys can recite a bible verse to you and then open a drawer with more points in it than a Capital One credit card commercial.
The only thing more awkward than the moment a lightskin Sigma Chi learns that one of the founding members fought on the wrong side of the Civil War is when an underclassmen takes a girl home who already knows where they keep their plates in the house. I can imagine dating a Sigma Chi is like watching the character arc of Michael Scott. At points, you want to rip his head off, but every once in a while, he shows up at Pam’s art show, and you could shed a tear. Every Sigma Chi has a grandparent that wanted them to go to Notre Dame, and sometimes that weighs on them when they crack the last womp of the night at three in the morning. If you get a bid to Sigma Chi, expect to gain fifteen pounds honing in your dye abilities, a decent job in corporate real estate, and four years hanging out with great friends. In Hoc.
