Damned Flamers…

Oh well, the nice thing about this irritating playoff beard is that it gives me something to talk about besides the Vancouver Canucks’ recent series loss to the Calgary Flames. So instead of delving any further into the bitterness of this second-straight season with a game seven loss on home-ice, let’s talk facial hair.

I Shaved, I Grew, I Scratched

Thirteen days ago, my de-whiskered face was full of promise. I shaved right before game one and waited for my playoff tribute to smother my countenance with fur. Disconcertingly, this growth happened much quicker than with the beards of playoff-past¹. At around six days I was already finished enduring the awkward stubble-stages of the process, but then the beard set in proper and I had something else entirely to worry about. It seems that when your facial hair grows this fast, instances of in-grown hairs become a far more real possibility. I only had one follicle which began to trouble me with this abnormality, but it was a damn irritating development nonetheless. For what wasthe last two or three days remaining in the Canucks playoff lifespan, I began to get sick of the whole beard-growing process entirely. I didn’t want to trim it until atleast the beginning of the second round but the beard was starting to itch more and more. Thoughts of a spastic need to shave occupied my mind and it required all my follicular fortitude to not give into those urges. Perhaps this was an omen for the corresponding troubles the Canucks would soon face on ice. I daresay, a tiny part of me was relieved when the self-imposed prohibtion regarding shaving became moot. Heresy, yes, I should not enjoy the absence of my playoff beard due to the dissapointing circumstance that has brought about its loss. Yet, I can’t help but revel in this wonderfully fresh sensation of lightness now that I’m clean shaven.

The Fuzz that Never Was

I suspect that if the Canucks had gone deep into the second round, then I would have had the chance to don some flannel and pretend I was a rugged mountain-man, a coeur du bois a voyageur or whatever other hairy canadian archetype suits your fancy². Then again, the same oppourtunity might have also left me looking like a Unibomber-esque old guy who likely lives in his parents’ basement and thinks dirty thoughts while watching re-runs of Sailor Moon. Either way, it bears note that I would never get away with any amount of playoff fuzz if I were to attempt a border crossing. Being dark-skinned and hairy is no way to enjoy the benefits of the USA’s new profiling policies.

Anybody But the Leafs

My hockey interests are effectively over for this season and possibly for next year too if the current status of the league’s CBA is to be any indication as to likelihood of a 2004-2005 NHL season taking place. If NHL work stoppage should occur, the public will atleast be granted a one-year respite from the spectacle of my playoff hairiness.

So, with a tip of my hairless chin, I bid good luck to the Flames, Senators and Habs, as all I can ask for now is for a Canadian team to lift the Stanley Cup³.

¹ It makes you wonder if this competition becomes superflous as you get closer to the age when you develop a five o’clock shadow before noon.

² Is it surprising that so many of these classical examples of hairiness are French-Canadian in origin? Okay, I guess it isn’t.

³ Yes Leafs fans, I’ve excluded your blue-pantywaisters from this list on purpose.