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In the biblical tale, Samson lost his supernatural power when his hair was cut.
In today’s NHL, our heroes are shorn — willingly — but only AFTER their powers have proved inadequate.
It’s called the playoff beard, and it turns 35 this year. It predates the births of every active Ottawa Senator except Chris Phillips and Chris Neil, who were both in diapers, their upper cheeks presumably as smooth as their lower ones, when the 1980 New York Islanders began their scruffy march to the first of four consecutive Stanley Cups.
Denis Potvin, the Ottawa-born captain of those championship teams, remarked once that the custom began accidentally: the team’s opening-round series against the Los Angeles Kings that year saw them play four games in five days, criss-crossing the continent in the process. “It was just something that kind of happened,” he said. “It certainly wasn’t choreographed or planned. I really don’t recall a moment where everyone said, ‘Ah-ha! We’re going to go ahead and do this.’”
Denis Potvin with the Stanley Cup in 1980.
It’s believed that the inspiration for the Islanders, which then included Swedes Anders Kallur and Stefan Persson, might have been tennis star Björn Borg, whose frequent appearances at Wimbledon in the 1970s were not visibly sponsored by Gillette.
Its haphazard North American origin, though, did not immediately turn the playoff beard into the de rigueur custom it is today. The Edmonton Oilers dynasty that followed the Islanders’ was a clean-shaven one, and it wasn’t until the 1988 New Jersey Devils scraggled their way into the playoffs on the last day of the regular season, à la 2015 Ottawa Senators, that the tradition resurfaced.
“Part of it was respect for the tradition the Islanders had started and part of it was superstition,” said Ken (Mr. Devil) Daneyko, a member of that team that made it to Game 7 of the Eastern Conference finals before being eliminated. “The playoffs really are an all-for-one mentality and growing a beard gave you a sense of purpose and focus. Every time you looked in the mirror or around the room it was a reminder of the sacrifice and dedication needed. It just gave you that rugged feeling and a sense of confidence as the longer it grows you know you’re doing pretty well.”
Historically, the beard has been an (almost) ageless sign of virility, strength and power. In sport, it boasts that same testosterone-laced, alpha-male sentiment. And as Daneyko suggests, it is a clock that lets you know how long its owner has spent banishing opponents to the barber’s chair. In playoff grooming, as in other matters, it’s true: length matters.
Since the early 2000s, it has become a widespread custom, an inviolate superstition that has spread to all playoff teams in the NHL and most other hockey leagues, as well as to other sports.
I’m a big proponent of the fact that men grow beards, so why are we shaving them off?
“It expresses peoples individuality,” says Darrell Crawford, president of Beard Team Canada, a hairy affiliation of Canadian men who compete every two years at the World Beard and Moustache Championships. “To me, everyone who is clean-shaven looks the same. Everybody with the beard looks different and I can identify them by their individuality.”
The 2002 Red Wings, the 2004 Tampa Bay Lightning, the 2006 Carolina Hurricanes and, as every Senators fan recalls, the 2007 Anaheim Ducks all resembled battalions of woolly GI Joes by the time they drank from the Cup.
Martin Gerber #29 of the Carolina Hurricanes celebrates with the Stanley Cup after defeating the Edmonton Oilers in game seven of the 2006 NHL Stanley Cup Finals on June 19, 2006.
Detroit’s 2009 playoff slogan was “The beard is back,” which worked until they faced the nearly-as-hirsute Pittsburgh Penguins in the finals (recall Sidney Crosby’s sparse tufts of facial fuzz).
Sidney Crosby #87 of the Pittsburgh Penguins shows off his playoff beard during his game against the New York Rangers in game five of the Eastern Conference Semifinals of the 2008 NHL Stanley Cup Playoffs on May 4, 2008.
A year later, the bewhiskered Chicago Black Hawks posed with the Stanley Cup, followed in subsequent years by the Boston Bruins, L.A. Kings, and Hawks and Kings again, every one of them, to a man, a shaggy conqueror.
“I think it still has that warrior aspect to it,” says Crawford, whose own current bushiness — an eight-year growth — extends halfway down his chest. “It says we’re going to go out and beat these guys, take this series and go on to win the cup. I think it still has it, although maybe less than in past years.”
Indeed. Apart from the fact that playoff beards have become a thing with every team, thus perhaps diluting their effect, they’ve recently become ubiquitous off the ice, too. Take a walk along Wellington Street West in Hintonburg. Visit an Elgin Street taco bar. Go to a Bank Street nightclub. An entire generation of young men today looks as though it has been in the playoffs for a decade or longer. So what are Anaheim’s Ryan Getzlaf, the Rangers’ Rick Nash or Senator Mark Stone saying with their month-or-two-long efforts? “I’m a lead singer in a band?” “I’m a hipster?” “I’m just like everyone else my age?”
Mike Fisher in 2007.
Maybe it’s time to put a strop to this tradition for a few years, until it grows back naturally, until a team plays four games and travels 8,000 km in five days.
But Crawford, who lives in Clarington, Ont., and is “embarrassedly” a Leafs fan, doesn’t think so. “I love the playoff beard. It’s interesting to see a beard grow on someone who is normally clean-shaven. And nine times out of 10 it looks pretty good.
“And then there is Sidney Crosby’s, which is entertaining in a different way. But at least he does it. He’s a team guy, he’s a guy, he’s a man.
“After the playoffs,” Crawford adds, “everybody shaves and goes back to looking ‘sharp.’ I’d love to see them just keep growing them.”
bdeachman@ottawacitizen.com
查看原文...
In today’s NHL, our heroes are shorn — willingly — but only AFTER their powers have proved inadequate.
It’s called the playoff beard, and it turns 35 this year. It predates the births of every active Ottawa Senator except Chris Phillips and Chris Neil, who were both in diapers, their upper cheeks presumably as smooth as their lower ones, when the 1980 New York Islanders began their scruffy march to the first of four consecutive Stanley Cups.
Denis Potvin, the Ottawa-born captain of those championship teams, remarked once that the custom began accidentally: the team’s opening-round series against the Los Angeles Kings that year saw them play four games in five days, criss-crossing the continent in the process. “It was just something that kind of happened,” he said. “It certainly wasn’t choreographed or planned. I really don’t recall a moment where everyone said, ‘Ah-ha! We’re going to go ahead and do this.’”
Denis Potvin with the Stanley Cup in 1980.
It’s believed that the inspiration for the Islanders, which then included Swedes Anders Kallur and Stefan Persson, might have been tennis star Björn Borg, whose frequent appearances at Wimbledon in the 1970s were not visibly sponsored by Gillette.
Its haphazard North American origin, though, did not immediately turn the playoff beard into the de rigueur custom it is today. The Edmonton Oilers dynasty that followed the Islanders’ was a clean-shaven one, and it wasn’t until the 1988 New Jersey Devils scraggled their way into the playoffs on the last day of the regular season, à la 2015 Ottawa Senators, that the tradition resurfaced.
“Part of it was respect for the tradition the Islanders had started and part of it was superstition,” said Ken (Mr. Devil) Daneyko, a member of that team that made it to Game 7 of the Eastern Conference finals before being eliminated. “The playoffs really are an all-for-one mentality and growing a beard gave you a sense of purpose and focus. Every time you looked in the mirror or around the room it was a reminder of the sacrifice and dedication needed. It just gave you that rugged feeling and a sense of confidence as the longer it grows you know you’re doing pretty well.”
Historically, the beard has been an (almost) ageless sign of virility, strength and power. In sport, it boasts that same testosterone-laced, alpha-male sentiment. And as Daneyko suggests, it is a clock that lets you know how long its owner has spent banishing opponents to the barber’s chair. In playoff grooming, as in other matters, it’s true: length matters.
Since the early 2000s, it has become a widespread custom, an inviolate superstition that has spread to all playoff teams in the NHL and most other hockey leagues, as well as to other sports.
I’m a big proponent of the fact that men grow beards, so why are we shaving them off?
“It expresses peoples individuality,” says Darrell Crawford, president of Beard Team Canada, a hairy affiliation of Canadian men who compete every two years at the World Beard and Moustache Championships. “To me, everyone who is clean-shaven looks the same. Everybody with the beard looks different and I can identify them by their individuality.”
The 2002 Red Wings, the 2004 Tampa Bay Lightning, the 2006 Carolina Hurricanes and, as every Senators fan recalls, the 2007 Anaheim Ducks all resembled battalions of woolly GI Joes by the time they drank from the Cup.
Martin Gerber #29 of the Carolina Hurricanes celebrates with the Stanley Cup after defeating the Edmonton Oilers in game seven of the 2006 NHL Stanley Cup Finals on June 19, 2006.
Detroit’s 2009 playoff slogan was “The beard is back,” which worked until they faced the nearly-as-hirsute Pittsburgh Penguins in the finals (recall Sidney Crosby’s sparse tufts of facial fuzz).
Sidney Crosby #87 of the Pittsburgh Penguins shows off his playoff beard during his game against the New York Rangers in game five of the Eastern Conference Semifinals of the 2008 NHL Stanley Cup Playoffs on May 4, 2008.
A year later, the bewhiskered Chicago Black Hawks posed with the Stanley Cup, followed in subsequent years by the Boston Bruins, L.A. Kings, and Hawks and Kings again, every one of them, to a man, a shaggy conqueror.
“I think it still has that warrior aspect to it,” says Crawford, whose own current bushiness — an eight-year growth — extends halfway down his chest. “It says we’re going to go out and beat these guys, take this series and go on to win the cup. I think it still has it, although maybe less than in past years.”
Indeed. Apart from the fact that playoff beards have become a thing with every team, thus perhaps diluting their effect, they’ve recently become ubiquitous off the ice, too. Take a walk along Wellington Street West in Hintonburg. Visit an Elgin Street taco bar. Go to a Bank Street nightclub. An entire generation of young men today looks as though it has been in the playoffs for a decade or longer. So what are Anaheim’s Ryan Getzlaf, the Rangers’ Rick Nash or Senator Mark Stone saying with their month-or-two-long efforts? “I’m a lead singer in a band?” “I’m a hipster?” “I’m just like everyone else my age?”
Mike Fisher in 2007.
Maybe it’s time to put a strop to this tradition for a few years, until it grows back naturally, until a team plays four games and travels 8,000 km in five days.
But Crawford, who lives in Clarington, Ont., and is “embarrassedly” a Leafs fan, doesn’t think so. “I love the playoff beard. It’s interesting to see a beard grow on someone who is normally clean-shaven. And nine times out of 10 it looks pretty good.
“And then there is Sidney Crosby’s, which is entertaining in a different way. But at least he does it. He’s a team guy, he’s a guy, he’s a man.
“After the playoffs,” Crawford adds, “everybody shaves and goes back to looking ‘sharp.’ I’d love to see them just keep growing them.”
bdeachman@ottawacitizen.com
查看原文...
