Friday, May 12, 2006

The power of the beard compels you...

Seriously. Look at this thing. This is a fucking beard right here. Sure, it's seems to have stopped growing outward, instead content with laying down and covering the less fertile patches of my babyish facial savannah, but hey — big hunting beards are for unabombers and Alberta Green Party candidates; the Oilers deserve a beard the people can actually get behind.

Remember this guy, Oilers? So fresh-faced, so eager, so full of the heady thrill of impending face-hair expirimentation? That seems so long ago now, when all of Edmonton was still holding their breath in trepidatious anticipation, wondering if it was at all possible — if it indeed was within the realm of undeluded rational prediction — that the Oil could go toe to toe with the "best team" in the NHL.

How long would I have given this beard back then, in the throes of my decade-long education in Oilers-based nervous pessimism, that ever-present defence machanism of lingering doubt that keeps us from teetering over the brink into the realm of insane fanboyism? It's tough to say. But the braying jackasses at work gave me all of two weeks when we entered into our playoff beard pact — and where are those jerks now? ALL. DEAD. Well, not really. But Mr. Calgary sure cleaned up nice after barely giving his stubble a chance to tremble like a sapling towards the sun. And Mr. San Jose? The guy shaved his beard prematurely a couple of days ago because it "looked like a mangy muskrat." Meanwhile, I did no such thing. That same night, the Oilers won in triple overtime.

Today, here we stand, on the cusp of tying up a series in the second round against the formidable San Jose Sharks, and all outward appearances of detached reserve have long since been tossed out the window like so much silver foil confetti. Like Sac at BoA, I have to believe that whoever wins tonight will win the series. The Oilers must win tonight if I am to feel happiness. Otherwise, I may never experience another moment of real joy again.

According to Pleasure Motors's research, this is the optimal photo configuration — right-facing, no glasses, hatless, Robocop painting in background — for an Oilers win. So, win, you fuckers. Look deep into the whiskers of this guy's crappy playoff beard and WIN.

7 comments:

jon said...

That is some excellent karmic mojo you got going there Chris, kudos to you. Let's hope the Oilers don't make me cry tonight. Bad enough that my girlfriend is actually going to the game without me, but now I can't go to her house to watch the game in glorious HDTV. Ah well.

Go Oilers!

Pleasure Motors said...

I'm glad that my sitting around in my underwear, missing my morning class and waiting for a wayward Australian musician to call me actually bore useful fruit.

Rich said...

That's my picture under "Alberta" I ran for the Greens and 2004 and still have the playoff beard.

Go Oilers Go!

d-lee said...

Yeah. The whiskers are looking good.

So are the Oil. Awesome game tonight!

Pleasure Motors said...

That's the power of the beard picture. I'm proud I could be a part of this.

Randy said...

Nice to see Robo-Cop has found a home at Casa de Macho. I'm off to get pissed up and fire a hand gun at the moon.

DAD said...

Hey Chris, the beard looks good, unlike mine when I let it grow during hunting season and is totally white. Makes me look really old. The Oilers better win tonight. Otherwise you will have the pleasure of trying to shave that thing off. It hurts!! Go Oilers GO!