Moustache history 101
[SATIRE] – Since the earliest of troglodytes first picked up sticks and used them to beat the shit out of each other, sports and facial hair have been inextricably linked.
Warriors of every earthly era have measured themselves by the length of the hair that warmed their upper lips – and to a lesser extent, their victories.
While the moustache has fallen out of style in recent decades, its legacy lives on in the world of sports as a mark of true manliness.
Here now is a factually inaccurate, chronologically questionable look at the history of the moustache in sport.
Long before the modern hipster appropriated the noble moustache for his ill-conceived, ironic fashion statement, the upper-lip fringe commanded a sense of prestige that held no association whatsoever to prostate cancer.
One of its earliest adopters, in fact, was the original hipster himself, Jesus Christ.
Christ most notably rocked the ‘stache when he won Galilee’s 14th annual Dead Sea Surftacular, a popular surfing contest at the time, earning a record score of 9.5 out of 10 from the judges.
It was later revealed, however, that Jesus tested positive for a banned substance, costing him the title and earning him a lifetime ban from surfing.
It was a dark day for the moustache, and one from which it would not soon recover.
Following Jesus’ deception, it became extremely unfashionable to sport a moustache.
It would be more than 1,000 years before the Knights of the Middle Ages would restore some semblance of righteousness to the beleaguered facial styling.
The Knight’s Code of Chivalry stated that “all knights should protect others who cannot protect themselves, while also sporting a luscious dusty.”
During jousting matches, it became common for knights to caress their moustaches with their tongues under their helmets for good luck. As an added bonus, it usually also tasted like the previous night’s goat, which gave them courage.
The chivalrous nature of the Knight’s moustache would provide a long-lasting popularity boost to the moustache, which would result in hundreds of years of good will.
The moustache would enjoy its unprecedented run of good fortune until the early 20th century, when its facial fortitude would once again be tested during the 1936 Summer Olympics held in Berlin.
The games would forever place a dark, black, rectangular stain on the moustache’s legacy, due to the controversy and scandal surrounding a key figure at the event.
Alfred Schwarzmann, celebrated German gymnast and noted moustache enthusiast, refused to shake his competitors hand after losing in the gold medal round, shocking the combined sports and moustache worlds.
The fair-natured, chivalrous sportsmanship associated with the moustache was shattered, and the course of moustache history forever altered.
It was once again dark times for the moustache. This period would later come to be known as “The Days of the Unkempt.”
It was uncertain if the moustache would ever recover from the combined damage done by Schwarzmann and the 1970s porn industry.
And then came the 1980s.
Suddenly, shame became a thing of the past. Techno-pop ruled the airwaves, bright neon colours surrounded every aspect of modern day life, and the moustache once again witnessed a renaissance brought about by several revolutionary sporting heroes.
Oakland Athletics pitcher Rollie Fingers started the new-wave era in the mid-70s when he grew his now-famous “Snidely Whiplash” in an attempt to win a $300 bet.
Not only did Fingers win the bet, he won the damaged hearts of moustache nation.
The moustache was back, in delirious fashion.
Following in Fingers’ footsteps was professional wrestler Hulk Hogan, who laid claim to the world’s blondest handlebar moustache, and the legendary hockey player, Lanny McDonald, who took the concept of the moustache to new and exhilarating heights.
These were good days to be a moustache supporter, but like all good things, the good times had to come to an end.
These days, the world exists only in the whispy shadows of the moustache, longing for the days when it stood for more than just a tool of prostate cancer awareness or ironic self-importance.
Though they dare not speak it aloud, the people still yearn for whiskered legitimacy; for tuft-lipped heroes on cold winter nights.
The world waits in earnest for the moustache to rise again, but if history is any indication, it shan’t be waiting long.
Once again, this article is a pure work of fiction, hopefully that is obvious. The Carillon is sure that if Jesus did like to surf, he wouldn’t have been as good at it as Braden is making it sound.
Photo courtesy Arthur Ward