Michael Vick’s mega-show on Monday night has been the talk of the league this week. Tom Brady admits to being wowed. Tom Coughlin says it makes him sick. His Giants team is openly raving about Vick, even though they will be playing against him this week. Drew Brees is suddenly old news in the NFC and the Eagles are suddenly looking very SB worthy.
Meanwhile, out here in San Francisco, the 49ers have been quietly unveiling their own mini-Vick. Or perhaps just hoping praying begging that is the case. Andy Reid, however, carefully plotted the course to make Vick his star QB and the Niners have just kind of lucked into it.
It’s tempting to wonder if the age of the pocket passer is fading. Tim Tebow hasn’t taken over yet in Denver, but it probably won’t be long before he does. Or maybe it’s only tempting because I’ve been staring at the screen for the past two hours and nothing is emanating from my empty skull this morning.
Peyton Manning says he’s had the same hair cut for 28 years. That’s, uh, sticking with what works, I guess. Not much curiosity or WTF going on in that fellow’s world. But what works for him, doesn’t work for Alex Smith, who’s probably had the same hair cut for 20 years himself.
I started off life with a flat top haircut. Everyone had one, but in perhaps what was a clue to how life was going to go for me, their flat tops were erect and flat, while mine drooped to just flat on my head within an hour of applying a generous glob of Butch Wax to it. Butch Wax is a curious name for a product. It was a pink gel, as I recall. You could grease your bicycle afterward by rubbing your hands along the chain.
Around ten, I switched to greasing my hair with some free white goo given to me by my Grandmother who was an Avon Lady. I parted it on the side, and swooped up a little pompadour wave in the front. I looked like a dork, but was not aware of it.
Around twenty or so, I went long hair to my shoulders for about ten years, then popped into a salon poof job for about ten years, and finally just said the hell with it and went with the two hair cuts per year approach. Buzz it, grow it, and repeat. Now, of course, there’s not much hair left to bother with. Hey, head, have a nice day.
Back tomorrow with the history of my face, which has more or less annoyed me for many decades. My favorite face, just to lure you in, was the Jekyll/Hyde look, with full beard on one side of my face and clean shaven on the other. I don’t recall dating much in this period, or holding a job. I did have one friend, though, but I can’t remember his name.
Hey, guys, have a nice day.