Shagged Out

by Damian WinthropLove advice from the Scene's resident literary lothario Dear Damian: I just read an article about Australian boxer Jeff Fenech, a.k.a. “The Marrickville Mauler.” Fenech, who was a champion in three different weight divisions, suffered his first loss in 1992. According to Australian paper The Daily Telegraph, Fenech says he was sleeping with up to five women a day in the weeks leading up to that crushing KO loss in Melbourne. Now happily married, the Marrickville Mauler claims his prolific sex life was the reason for his vulnerability in the ring that day. "I wasn't married back then, and I had a massive ego,” Fenech said. "I thought I was invincible and that I could do anything I liked. I slept with four or five girls every day. I done everything wrong. I just thought I was going to win. In the end I paid a heavy price." So here's my question: Being the renowned lady's man that you are, has your love life ever taken a toll on your professional life?Curious CarolDear Carol: Wow. Rarely has a reader's question taken me aback like yours. It's so eerily similar to an experience of my own. Back in my college days, I was an all-American soccer player—in fact, I was heavily courted by both Manchester United and AC Milan. And like Fenech, I was sleeping with four to five women a day. (Well, if I had a particularly bad hangover, I was known to dip down to two or three, though that was rare.) And there's little doubt that the considerable energy I spent on sexual endeavors combined with my rigorous fútbol regimen left me exceptionally drained. It was clear that I was burning the candle at both ends, and something had to give. Also like Fenech, I had a massive ego at the time. Who was I to think that I could be a world-class soccer player and satisfy throngs of women each week? Who was I kidding? Where did I, ahem, get off thinking I was some sort of superhuman? It was clear that I needed a reality check, and my dear friend Sofia sat me down one day after sensing that I was headed for disaster. “Who do you think you are?” she shouted. “How long do you think you can continue at this pace before you implode?” After a lot of soul-searching, I made the most painful, and selfless, decision of my life—I gave up soccer. I had such an enormous ego at the time, and the desperate need for international fame and attention came terrifyingly close to drawing me away from what was clearly my God-given talents, my true calling. Who was I to deny satisfaction to hundreds of women each year, just so I could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated? How self-centered was I? I (and those hundreds of women) shudder at the thought of what might have happened had I made that wrong turn. I don't need to share the world stage with David Beckham—we've already shared Victoria, and that's enough for me.Need advice from the world's greatest lover? Email damian@nashvillescene.com.