It can be said that we Ladies… don’t see eye-to-eye when it comes to you. Some of us love you, some of us hate you. I think I’d find you endearing if you whined a helluva lot less. But one thing we can all agree on is that YOUR BEARD HAS GOT TO GO. NOW!
The last thing you need is bad beard mojo in the Stanley Cup Final. You’ve already had your proverbial asses handed over to you last night in Detroit, even though the schedule favored you guys somewhat. Zetterberg wouldn’t leave you alone. You were held scoreless and Malkin managed but a single assist off a Fedetenko goal. Lame.
This is professional sports, Crosby. Superstition trumps actual skill, effort and ability. Your loss last night can only be attributed to one factor: your creepy attempt at growing facial hair.
Unless you want to do another NHL ad next season about how you never want to be in that picture with the other sulky Penguins, I suggest you find a Gillette Fusion razor and a can of Barbasol and get to ‘er. You have lots of time. Game 2 doesn’t start until 8 p.m. eastern tonight.
There’s no use in arguing, although I’m sure one or two of us wouldn’t mind getting into a heated, lusty debate with you. Just trust us. We know our playoff beards.
Love, the Ladies…