I have noticed a disturbing trend in the NBA playoffs: The increasingly horrible hair styles of the Lakers’ opponents.
We started with Deron Williams in the first round: Shiny, glossy, like a the still wet pelt of a dead otter glued to his head. You could even see the wavy structure of the fur if you looked closely.
Then in the next round, we faced the craziness that was Ron Artest’s mohawk. Not only did he have the mohawk, he had bizarre symbols and words shaved into the sides of his head–maybe ancient runes, filled with mystical perimeter shooting powers? (Hm. That would actually explain a lot.)
Then came the Conference Finals, and Artest’s mohawk suddenly seemed quite tame compared to Chris Andersen’s gel-saturated top. Like the crest of a peacock, the Birdman’s crown swayed high above him, threatening to stab or cut Pau Gasol every time they battled for a rebound.
And then we reached the NBA Finals. Lebron was supposed to be there, with the Cavs, and with them Varejao’s poodle-frizzed version of The Ben Wallace Afro of Doom. The circle would have been complete, the horrible hair-dos of our opponents adding to the joy and pride of defeating them.
But instead we get the Orlando Magic. The only team in the Eastern Conference that does not have a wacky wild mop of hair on their roster! Now what do we do? Who do we mock?
We will have to content ourselves with the questionable glory of defeating Hedo Turkoglu’s pretentiously well-groomed goatee. It feels like such an anti-climax.