By Frankie C.
Cold, Hard Football Facts student of self-reflection
The sins of the Frankie 5 weigh on its creator's shoulders like Rosie O'Donnell's ass weighs on her easy chair. 
Because our commitment to ourselves is legend, there are literally thousands of transgressions against the rest of humanity we'd like to clear off our conscience. 
Sadly, time constraints and lack of writing talent limit this column to only 5 items. So, here, bathed in our most sincere feelings of wretched regret are ...
The Frankie 5: Most necessary apologies:
5.  A hearty "We're sorry" for anonymously pinching the round apple bottom of the gorgeous girl at the 1989 Who concert in Foxboro, Mass. We take full responsibility for that pleasant little pluck. Impulse control has never been our strong suit and we were so hypnotized by the gracious sway of your beautiful backside, we simply could not help it. Our bad.
4. Mea culpa to the residents of Edmonds 832 at Boston College for the night we did all those shots in the first half hour we were on campus, then got feisty and started punching things (walls) and then spent the following three hours vomiting our way from room to room until finally passing out on the floor of the bathroom in such a way that no one else could enter. Nothing personal fellas, just a learning experience. The lesson? Don't feed booze to the assholes. Yeah, that's us. We're the assholes.  (No shit...)
3. A heavy-hearted bouquet of remorse to our former employers at the liquor store. We accept responsibility but, honestly, who leaves a 19-year-old alcoholic alone with a warehouse of beer and doesn't expect to be robbed blind? Can't we split the blame on this one? You wouldn't leave a bear alone with honey, or Paris Hilton alone with a photo opportunity. You tempted fate and fate kicked you in the berries. 
2.  Further contrition is hereby gratuitously offered to our friends at the Brass Rail Bar in Millington, Tennessee. Friends include both the owners and the fat girls in bikinis who would dance on the stage. Our actions, while hysterical, still haunt us to this day. In fact, it remains impossible to listen to "Proud to be an American" by Lee Greenwood without shame. Ironic, isn't it? The details of the incident are trivial, but suffice it to say that no man should be without pants during that song, at least in public.
1. Our final apology goes out to the portly lass we met on a binge weekend at another college during our heady youth. This poor girl had the misfortune of being the slowest and weakest of the herd at the party. Because predators are genetically disposed to attack those very qualities, she was the cow onto which we pumped our proverbial lead. Then, because we're pathetic and shallow and were suddenly overcome by great shame, we repaid her kindness by hiding from her outside in the bushes, eyeing her through the sliding glass door, until we were certain she'd given up the search and gone home. Um ... sorry?