Not only did the Oklahoma City Thunder lose one hell of a basketball player on Saturday night, but they also got rid of one of the greatest pop culture icons to ever capture this city in James Harden’s beard.
I’ve never seen this town become so fixated on one object. Launched by cool (and now discounted) t-shirts and sparked by a viral video made by the whitest people in the world, the beard became a local pop culture phenomenon. It reached it’s climax during the Thunder’s 2012 NBA Finals run. Everyone wore fake beards and posted pics of them to their Facebook walls. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the entire city was going to a stoning. One shopping center owner covered his building with a giant beard. Hell, James Harden’s became so popular that I got all hipstery and begged for it stop. I was concerned it would become overexposed. I guess we don’t have to worry about that ever happening.
Even though the magic and popularity of James Harden’s beard well never be matched, we decided to come up with a list of 11 possible replacements. None of these suggestions will match the furry goodness that was The Beard, and I doubt opponents will ever fear them, but maybe they’ll inspire a very white viral video or a funny t-shirt.
Here they are:
11. Kendrick Perkin’s Old Man Goattee
If James Harden’s beard was the Devon Tower, then Kendrick Perkin’s old man goatee would be a new Braum’s. You can’t even compare the two.
10. Jeremy Lamb’s abnormally small head
You know what’s funny. When I first saw the trade report on my phone, I was so worked up from the OU game that I misread Jeremy Lamb is Jeremy Lin. My reaction was “Holy Fuck.” Then I sobered up, re-read the post and saw it was Jeremy Lamb. Then my reaction was “Who?”
Anyway, after going back and reading pre-draft scouting reports and draft night grades, I’m pretty convinced that Jeremy Lamb is going to be a great fit for the Thunder. Mind you, I read all those reports while drinking orange and blue vodka Kool-Aid, but still, the guy should be a key contributor in a few years and give the Thunder more flexibility in match-ups. That being said, what’s going on in that pic? Is his head that small or did they give him the largest hat ever made? I’m confused.
I’ve written about 100 different introductions for this post. If I lived in the 1960s and I had to type this blog on an old school typewriter, a pile of crumpled-up sheets of paper would be touching my the ceiling.
So far, these are the worst two intros I came up with. No lie, I seriously considered using them:
• Friends, Romans, Loud Citians, we come to bury Harden, not to praise him.
• Midget farts.
Yes, the James Harden trade — coupled with Bob Stoops slowly turning into Gary Gibbs — has affected me so much that I’m now mocking Shakespeare and using random midget fart references. Maybe I should give up on trying to write anything coherent today and just post those pictures I have of Joleen Chaney sunbathing. I need to do that sometime, but that’s just taking the easy way out. You know, kind of like paying a popular all-star $1-million more per season to stick around and try to help you win a championship.
Anyway, I think I struggled to come up with an appropriate intro for this post because I still don’t know how I really feel about everything. For about an hour, I’ll think the Thunder made the right move and I’ll get kind of happy. Then I’ll go over to Daily Thunder and read stories like this and get all sad. Then I’ll check out a pre-draft scouting report on Jeremy Lamb and get all happy again. Then I’ll look at Kevin Martin’s Top 10 plays as a Rocket and get depressed. Then ESPN will show a damn Notre Dame highlight and I’ll faint.
It’s kind of nuts, really. I can’t believe how torn up I am about the ordeal. I’m slightly embarrassed that a professional bearded athlete could have this type of impact on me. OU losing definitely didn’t help, but I’ve been a depressed zombie since late Saturday night. All I did on Sunday was check my fantasy football scores, look up slow cooker recipes and read article after article about James Harden.
Wait! That’s what I can do! Instead of writing about the trade, I’ll post links to some slow cooker recipes. That sounds fun. Or better yet, what if I posted three articles about the Harden trade that are must-reads. They’re not obscure or anything, but they’ll help you have a water cooler conversation about the topic and not sound like a fool:
Happy You’re-Probably-Celebrating-Halloween-This-Weekend weekend, Moles. If you haven’t done so yet, check out Marisa’s special “Halloween in the Big Town” for a list of things to do in the metro this weekend.
This week’s mailbag is sponsored by our friends at Lucky Star Casino. Whoever sends us the best email will take home a pair of tickets to the George Lopez show on November 10th. This probably has something to do with me growing up in Capitol Hill, but I kind of like George Lopez’s stand-up act. Repeat, stand-up act. It’s actually funny.
Anyway, to the emails:
If you haven’t heard yet, stomach-stapled KFOR Sports Director Bob Barry Jr. was attacked by a bobcat last week. Wait. I got that wrong. He actually wrecked a scooter. Along with his pride and dignity, he broke his collarbone in the accident. We emailed BBJ to see if he incurred any other injuries. He replied with, “I don’t know, buddy. Why don’t you tell me?”
If you think the visual of BBJ crashing a scooter, flying through the air and nearly dying is funny, don’t feel bad. It kind of is. It’s even funnier when you learn that he allegedly cried for Running Girl after the wreck. But if you work for the Sports Animal, don’t laugh about the ordeal. If you do, your wife will call your show and force you to apologize. That’s what happened to Regular Jim Traber.
Earlier this week, our very own Chelsea wrote about a chance encounter she had with her dream boy Nick Collison. Knowing Chelsea like we know her, the whole ordeal was funny, yet depressing:
Loyal TLO readers: Last Friday morning, it finally happened. After years of (not so quietly) professing my love via various media outlets, I finally came face to face with the greatest unrequited love of my life, THE Nick Collison.
It happened on an elevator. I tossed out a casual “hey.” He returned with an amused “hey.” In attempt to keep the conversation going, I asked him how he liked playing at the Spirit Center. Okay, not one of my better pick-up lines. Obviously if I had time to prepare, I would have asked him what his favorite book is, or found out the greatest concert he’s ever been to, or asked if he’d ever read the Kama Sutra. But, the fact is I was caught off-guard and was wearing scrubby yoga pants and black framed faux-hipster glasses (note: I wear faux-hipster prescription glasses, not hipster faux-prescription glasses–as if one were better than the other). After countless tweets and hours spent Photoshopping Nick into pictures with me, all I got in return was a paltry “it was ‘aight.” Nick Collison then stepped off the elevator and disappeared into the third floor of the historic Mayo Hotel. Rejection is a dish served…unaccompanied.
Outside of meeting that Australian cowboy, this is definitely one of the most exciting things that’s happened to me all year. Sad, huh? I was going to come up with a clever metaphor to liken my predictable life to the dull and mundane week I’m assuming that the Tulsa Police had, but as you can tell, literary devices were never really my forte.
Chelsea’s nice, fun and enjoys reminding us that Tulsa has QuikTrips. For those reasons alone, we all like her at the TLO Home Office. Well, except for Spencer. He doesn’t like sharing Tuesday’s with her. That’s fine, though, because Chad likes her way too much. I guess that evens things out.
Anyway, because Chelsea totally blew her chance to hook up with The Freckle King, we thought it would be fun to visit the Jerk Store and come up with 11 pick up lines or advances she should have told the Thunder role player. If she could go back in time, step on an elevator, and use one of these, she could have fulfilled her dream and been the one-night stand of a professional athlete.
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