Last night’s World Series Game Seven was a historic one. Not because the Chicago Cubs won their first championship in an undetermined number of years—no one’s quite sure how long it’s been, records don’t go back that far—but because it was the day the world learned of the “dick bump.”
Cubs catcher David Ross, who was playing the last game of his career, and whom I heard several fans refer to as “daddy,” smacked a solo home run in the sixth inning, and he and his teammates celebrated by thrusting their crotches into each other.
"Just to mess with Cleveland for hosting the RNC, let's do some penis bumps in the dugout after I homer" – David Ross pic.twitter.com/0MtTm57xB8
— Jason Narducy (@SplitSingleband) November 3, 2016
They just bumped dicks, man. Like a chest bump or a fist pound. But with their dicks. A boner bump. A penis pound.
Dad joke: That’s not a high-five, that’s a low one! (I’ll stop now.)
There’s little evidence of the dick bump in sports celebration history. Patting on the ass has long been a staple of homosocial bonding, especially in sports, but dudes touching their junk together appears to be new ground.
Just to be clear: They didn’t bump their bare dicks together (that would have been really transgressive). There are as many as three layers of clothing separating each player’s dick from the outside world — pants, a jockstrap and possibly a pair of lycra compression shorts. But their genital regions certainly touched, which definitely subverts norms of masculinity. Congrats on your World Series victory, as well as your woke-ness, Cubs!
Although the origin of the dick bump is unclear, I’m certain this is not the first recorded dick bump in male history. How can I be so sure? Because my friends in college used to bump dicks all the time. (We were in a fraternity, so make your own assumptions about the sexual-social dynamics at play here.)
Seriously, we were at happy hour one day when my one friend got it in his head that we should express our fondness for each other by bumping dicks. I’m not saying the Cubs stole this idea from us. This is likely the product of parallel thinking, and it proves that sometimes bros just have an irrepressible urge to cross swords.
