JN: So, Reginald tells me he can finally breathe comfortably. Though I am now sporting what many would call a beard, I consider it more like some shitty domestic beer that you're drinking because it's the only thing at the party and damned if I'm hanging out with these people sober. It's just enough to squeak by thus earning that most hallowed name: beard. As expected, I'm not quite satisfied with the length, which I suppose is a good thing considering I'm still in month one. With eleven more to go, I can only imagine how pissy I'd be come Christmas time if I was already getting annoyed with Reginald's length. On the brighter side, I finally recognize my reflection in the mirror. And that's always a relief.From the desk of Jeff Newman:
HOLY SHIT! SUPER BOWL IN TWO WEEKS! I'm super duper pumped for Super Bowl XLVII which will be played on February 3rd at the Superdome in New Orleans. My excitement is partially due to the fact that those unholy douche-cocks known as the Patriots will not be playing this year. More on that in a minute.
This year, the contest will be decided between the Baltimore Ravens and the San Francisco 49ers. This is really cool for a few reasons:
To begin, the head coaches of both competing teams are not only related- they're brothers. Like used to play tag, hide-and-seek, and shoot bottle rockets at each other brothers. Jim Harbaugh, the coach of the 49ers is the brother of John Harbaugh, coach of the Ravens. Aside from having parents who love one syllable names that start with the letter J, these two coaches are a mere one year apart, and have led their respective teams to victory time and time again throughout the season.
Next, with Joe Flacco at the helm of the Ravens, and Colin Kaepernick as QB of the 49ers, it promises to be one hell of a fast-paced offensive slug-fest. Let's not forget that the defensive squad of both teams are not to be trifled with. This brings me of course to Ray Lewis. Ray Lewis has played seventeen seasons as a linebacker in the NFL. Every single one of them for the Baltimore Ravens. He's been selected as a Pro Bowl player 13 times, he won NFL Defensive Player of the Year in 2000 and 2003 (only the sixth player in history to win the award twice), and was the second linebacker in history to win the Super Bowl MVP award. He is also a regular singer of the National Anthem who consistently brings himself to tears. In two weeks, Ray Lewis will play his last NFL game. He is retiring after a marvelously decorated career, possibly with another Super Bowl victory to add to his record. The buzz on the street is he'll be on TV as a football commentator in no time. I say, bring it on!
Back to the best part of Super Bowl XLVII- NO PATRIOTS! The Patriots are an over-privileged, over-funded group of dick-weeds who, like the New York Yankees win too often to be any fun to root for. Bill Belichick and his ridiculous comb-over have racked up a whopping 187 wins since he took over as head coach of the Patriots in 2000. This could simply be explained by fine coaching and damn good execution of excellent strategy on the field were it not for the 2007 videotaping scandal known as "Spygate," in which Bill Belichick was caught videotaping the signals of the opposing team's defense to give his team an unfair advantage during game play. As punishment, the Pats were fined $250,000 and lost their spot for first round draft pick for the 2008 season. Belichick himself was fined $500,000 (the largest fine ever imposed on a head coach in the history of the NFL). It was also revealed that he'd been doing this since he took the head coach position in 2000. With all that cheating, it's hard to believe he could only bring home three Super Bowl victories in the past 13 years. Needless to say, neither he nor his Busey-esque, shit-eating grin possessing QB Tom Brady have beards. Is it any wonder? -JN From the desk of Reginald Buford Brimley:
The month of January has brought with it the United States president's inauguration, a bitter cold front gripping the mid western section of the US, and most importantly of all the return of that much revered human sport: hockey. As it seems to do every five to ten years, the National Hockey League took a lengthy hiatus to review, revise, and renegotiate contracts concerning the collective bargaining agreements for the men who work as hockey athletes. This most recent revision period (known commonly as a lockout or strike) was mostly caused by a push by team owners to reduce the percentage of hockey related profits earned by the players from fifty-seven percent to forty-six percent. This negotiation period cut the regular season from eighty-two to a mere forty-eight games. It is projected that during the lockout, the NHL lost between eighteen and twenty million dollars a day, players lost between eight and ten million dollars daily, and the league office had to cut jobs by twenty percent. Businesses located near hockey arenas of course suffered as well.
Much to the delight of human hockey fans everywhere, the lockout has officially ended and the games have begun. However, human reaction to hockey's triumphant return pales in comparison to the joy felt throughout the Beard community due to this blessed event. Let me take this opportunity to share a little known fact:
Beards. Love. Hockey.
More than any other human sport, be it football, mountain climbing, rugby, bowling, or even roller derby. This is in part because of hockey's fast paced, constantly changing, logically violent action. This appeals to Beards very much. Hockey requires a very focused attention, and a comfort zone that lives somewhere at the speed of what I can only imagine scientists would call badass. As an added perk, the game takes place in a colder environment than most which encourages Beard growth. Not chemically of course, (they actually grow more in the summer) but the cold encourages the players to allow more growth which adds warmth to their fairly frozen faces. This also gives the players extra protection should a projectile of some kind come flying at their faces. These potential projectiles vary from items thrown by fans, the hockey pucks themselves, and most commonly- the fists of other players.
Now, while Beards as a race avoid and abhor unnecessary violence as a general principle, the violence associated with hockey, commonly expressed through fist-fights is completely understood, condoned, and even encouraged. We as Beards completely understand these fist-fights as a part of the game. Humans are naturally violent creatures and athletic competition brings with it a large amount of aggression, determination, and fatigue. Violence is a natural by-product of this combination. It is unavoidable and should not be resisted, ignored, or repressed. Thus, it is allowed (even celebrated) with the use of bare fists, which do not kill easily. Certainly there is bound to be some long term head trauma and brain damage, but that can be expected by any professional athlete in any professional sport (particularly one with so many Canadians). In an average hockey fist-fight, two men on skates wearing padding over much of their bodies, hold each other steady with one hand while pummeling each other with their free fist under the watchful supervision of the more level-headed members of their immediate community. The fight is given its appropriate breadth, and stopped before it gets out of hand. The men then have a five minute respite to rest and relax before returning to the ice as respectful competitors. This is one of the more logical and proportionally appropriate expressions of violence found anywhere in human culture.
The Chicago Blackhawks began the season this past Saturday against the Los Angeles Kings and followed up on Sunday in Phoenix against the Coyotes. They followed this performance up Tuesday night with their first home game against the St. Louis Blues, winning with a score of three to two. This was particularly exciting since this is the first time the Blackhawk's have started three and zero since the 1972-73 season. While I thoroughly enjoy any hockey contest I'm privileged enough to see, my host human Mr. Newman was particularly elated to see the Phoenix Coyotes get defeated by Chicago's Blackhawks with a score of six to four. I couldn't quite make sense of what he was shouting during the game as he was heavy into drink by the second period. It had something to do with dirty plays, unnecessary hits, being an owner-less team of "pussies," and begrudgingly accepting the fact that goalie Mike Smith is a badass none the less. If Mr. Newman's behavior can serve as a typical example, the violence displayed by a human fan watching a hockey match makes far less sense than that displayed by the actual players. That being said, it's quite an entertaining sight to behold. -RBB
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