Opening Day of baseball began with a moment of silence for the death of...
Oh, Chan Ho Park's Beard. We hardly knew you. Your life was cut short--no pun intended, this is a eulogy for fuck's sake--and you did not make it long enough--ahem--to see your first year. But you accomplished great things in the precious little time you were with us. Is it a coincidence that around the time of your birth, The Face That Wore You had one of his best seasons in recent history? We think not. Is it a coincidence that only after you arrived, The Face That Wore You pitched in his first World Series? Nay.
Yet The Face That Wore You never understood your magic. He began to doubt you back in October, when his team lost to The Team That Forbids You. Surely it was then, as he witnessed their beard-murdering faces, one after the other, beating down his tribe with their wood clubs, that he began to plot your end. And later when The Face That Wore You switched allegiances to The Team That Forbids You, he all but signed your death sentence. Is it any wonder that in his first outing without you, victory eluded him? Does The Face That Wore You have any idea that, without you, he's doomed to failure (in baseball and in hotness)?
We can only hope your death by the blade was quick and painless.
We can only hope you are on a better face now.
[photo via Nerve]