A Fashion Analysis of Marv Albert's Toupees Throughout History

Marv Albert is very vain. He’s vain in the most remarkable, audacious, spectacular fashion ever -- to the point in which he actually is making a statement about his vanity in each of his hairpieces. Let's break it down.

1987: Very helmet hair, denoting that Marv still wanted to wear a hairpiece that said “you know, this is what a big-market sportscaster is supposed to look like." But still acceptable within the realm of hairpieces because it is fairly plausible. That's a hairpiece that says “ok, I’d rather no one know I’m bald because I’m a little vain and I’m in television. But I’m not going to exactly make it obvious, either. Because I’m vain about that, too.”

1993: Still unkempt. Perhaps a homage to Ringo and the rest of the Fab Four. Also, in this photo, giving a very weird vibe like you’d see from Isaac when he served a cute lass on the Love Boat.

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1997: While incarcerated, confirmed what everyone in America knew for some time but was shockingly rarely public acknowldeged. Marv is bald. Has been for some time. But, here’s the thing, he wore the piece in his mugshot. Say what you will, but that’s the ultimate in “Person Tries To Establish Brand.” You are arrested for sodomy and assault, something went horribly wrong, it was your fault and you will have “infamous” attached as an adjective to your name in a lot of upcoming articles. But dammit, at this point, Marv wanted to convey to the world “NO! I HAVE HAIR!”

2001: Marv returns to announcing the NBA on NBC. Decides to go clean-cut as he clearly needs to show the public that he wants to announce basketball with the least audacious hairpiece imaginable. It is what I like to describe as “toupee penance.”

Today: Marv continues with the premise that he has hair AND, BY GOD, HE ALWAYS HAS. He's also changed colors and decided to become modern and sleek. This is truly the mid-life crises of toupee changes. It's "I'm in a rut. I don't know what will change it. I'VE GOT IT! TOUPEE CHANGE!" Also, to boot, he’s decided to go with a change in color. This, I contend, is remarkable.

Think about what he’s doing. He’s continued the fiction of “I have hair” to a all-too-suspecting public for over three decades. He’s still doing it and has decided, “meh, I’ve decided to pretend I have hair and I’ve decided to look good, anyway.” This is a double-down of vanity that is truly remarkable.

Or he’s decided “well, yeah, I am going to wear a more audacious hair piece because, dammit, that’s what the public wants.” This is a remarkably post-modern critique of American celebrity culture that really is far beyond anything Buck Henry wrote in To Die For. It is celebrity-savvy. It is image-obsessed. Like Lady Gaga, he almost says "well, yeah, I'm going to be outrageous and audacious because I can."

It is remarkable. It is New York television, where image is everything. It is America. It is Marv.

Mom

Having children does change you, I think. It grounds you, lets you know what unconditional love is (and, as importantly, isn’t) and requires you to think about something other than your petty problems. It is responsibility – acting poorly and not showing love affects a child when he or she becomes an adult.

One way it changed me is that it completely altered how I viewed my own mother. As a teen, I focused on the negative concerning my Mom’s behavior: the continual tensions with my father, the divorce, her obsessive compulsiveness and occasional nosiness. I was a child when I did this. Raising a child, particularly one as different as I, is inherently difficult. I don’t see Sophie as much as I would like, but every time I do I realize how much patience, time and effort it takes to help raise a happy, well-adjusted child. My mom is a natural: watching her interact with Sophie is spectacular. Mom treats Sophie as a princess, which, of course, she is. That means the world to me.

Over the course of the last ten years, I’ve seen my Mom for both the good and the bad. Yes, she does occasionally drive me nuts. But I drive people nuts, as well. The important thing about my mother is that irrespective of her idiosyncrasies, she drops everything if I need anything because I’m her son. It is unconditional love – the same I feel for my daughter. There really aren't a lot of people you will love unconditionally over the course of your life.

And today, that’s the only thing I’ll focus on.

Advice I Have Never Successfully Heeded:

1) Focus on What’s Good About You, Rather Than What You Lack:

My response: “Thank you. First off, can you go in a tremendous amount of detail about what’s good about me? Preferably in writing and potentially in a signed affidavit? Also, I do lack things. Occasionally, I think about them too much. That actually puts me in 99.9% of mankind."

2) Stop Thinking Too Much

My response: “Ok. I’ll get right on that. But doesn’t that involve a lobotomy?”

3) “You Should Go Out More And Maybe Find Someone You’re Interested In!” - My Mom

My response: “Thanks, Mom. Also, thank you for focusing on the one thing I lack (see #1, above), thereby putting me into a downward spiral. And by “going out more”, I’m not sure there’s a special outing for “desperate single women.” Except bars. Which is probably the one thing I should avoid. But I do appreciate the advice, as well as providing me some small amount of neuroses today.”

4) “Perhaps That Shot Is Not A Good Thing To Drink At This Present Time” – Voice in my head at Bar on Multiple Occasions, Years ago at 2am

My response: “Yeah. You’re Right.” - Me, on my bed at 8am.

5) "Perhaps that Woman Is Not Good For You, Either." - Same Voice In My Head, Occasionally but not limited to at bars

My response: "Yeah. You're Right. - Me, either hours, days, weeks or months later. Historically related to #4, above.

6) Get therapy.

My response: “You first. Also, I’m in therapy.”

Democracy

Tonight, I watched democracy in action. Ok, not so much democracy as a strange reality show in which candidates on Fox News, complete with a buzzer stolen from the 1970s game show “Password.” Thursday Night was the first of forty-seven debates between the Republican debates in a battle to lose to Barack Obama by double-digits. The big names (Trump, Gingrich, Palin, Bachmann, Christie, Mitch Daniels) weren’t there, to the extent that the Republican party contains big names (they do not). Here are those who actually showed up last night:

1) Governor Tim Pawlenty (R-MN), whose fast-paced videos and bland demeanor make him a top-tier candidate. He offends no one, pleases no one, is eminently malleable and generally stays out of everyone’s way by being as bland as possible. Given the inherent craziness of everyone else in the field, this makes him “plausible” by Washington’s Republican establishment (much as a frat boy scans a room for the “not out of my league but not so unattractive that I might be ridiculed by friends the next morning” girl at 2am).

In an era in which “Generic Republican” does better than any other actual, named Republican against Obama in the polls, Pawlenty is the most generic of all possibilities.

Strange, inexplicable quote last night: “I LOVE THE HUCK!” Boy. That could have ended badly if he just missed one letter.

2) Herman Cain (R-Toppingville): The founder of Godfather’s Pizza, he touts his business experience. This is interesting, since everyone last ate at Godfather’s when they installed a Ms. Pacman in 1983. My favorite question of the debate came from Juan Williams, who asked Mr. Cain what a President Cain would do to lower gas prices. The best answer: “Well, since we’re dealing with such an absurd hypothetical premise, I’m going to have to say that by that time, cars will be fueled by love and unicorn juice, Juan.”

He was incoherent; he has no experience and had nothing substantive to say. By all accounts, he won the debate.

Sample quote: “With all due respect, your experts are wrong.” In fairness, he was referring to Fox News’ experts, so he might be in the clear here.

3) Gary Johnson (R-NM, I think): I don’t know who he is, where he comes from and what chance he thinks he has. He does want to legalize pot and tax the hell out of it, winning him the support of fiscally responsible potheads everywhere.

Sample quote: “It’s like nine questions for these guys and none for me!”

Downside: He’s very whiny, asking to be asked more questions, like he was Lisa Simpson (“Grade Me… Look at Me. EVALUATE AND RANK ME!!!”) . No one likes the person who raises his hand in class, Gov. Johnson. Other downside: I have no idea whether he made up being the governor of a state. Really, no one knows. It is possible Fox News just made the guy up to have five people on stage.

4) Former Senator Rick Santorum (R-Leviticus): Once a rising star in the GOP, he lost re-election by I think 57 points in the swing state of Pennsylvania. This makes him a political star of the Religious Right. The evangelicals love him. No one else does, particularly Internet search engines (seriously, look him up, it’s awesome).

5) Congressman Ron Paul (R-TX): Like Santorum, both Paul and his supporters are bound by a simple religious belief: that eliminating the Federal Reserve and going back to the gold standard would cure all ills in the world, up to and including making a coherent Transformers movie. He’s the crazy grandfather who thinks that flouride in the water is a government plot, except he actually is the father of an actual sitting United States Senator, which should make us all cry.

He is intellectually honest, but dangerous and implausible, much like most engineering students who’ve never held a job. Also, he apparently came out for the legalization of heroin tonight, which might make any future election night celebration party really dour.

Sample quote: “If we legalize heroin tomorrow, is everyone is going use heroin? How many people here would use heroin if it were legal?” This was met by cheers by a crowd of South Carolina Republicans. No. Not kidding.


Last night wasn’t so much democracy in action as a surrealistic experience that even the next morning I had to check actually happened. You ever not remember calling people when you’re drunk, so you frantically check your cell phone to see who you called and texted so you at least know who you spoke to? Yeah, this morning I actually scanned political blogs to verify stuff like “really, the Godfather’s guy won the debate” or “Rick Santorum is running for President” or “Ron Paul was met with applause at a Republican primary when he called for the legalization of heroin.”

On the bright side, we’re pulling out of the Middle East. So we’re not exporting our style of democracy.

Charlie Brown

Hanging out with younger people when you are old is an interesting experience.

At a recent party, a young woman, probably 22-24 years old and bicycling across the country with her boyfriend, told her friends that relationships are easy and effortless. She told everyone that her relationship with her boyfriend was “meant to be” and didn’t take any effort at all to start or maintain.

My first reaction, which I’m not proud of, contained dark cynicism. I imagined a future in which this couple would break up in bitterness from a combination of boredom, inertia, different life paths, or just intentional cruelty. When I got home, I imagined them bouncing from relationship to relationship in their 30s in some sort of Midtown Hipster Hell of Diminished Expectations.

I was jealous. This had everything to do with me and nothing to do with the young couple. At 40, I couldn’t imagine a relationship effortless in either its initiation or its maintenance. I couldn’t conceive of a relationship that didn’t contain insecurity, awkwardness and effort. I knew at one time what it is like to love someone without any sort of defense mechanisms and neuroses.

Relationships and love are not effortless for me. Instead, it is inherently awkward, difficult and scary – like watching Charlie Brown kick a football even when he knows Lucy will take it away, it’s a leap of faith. It takes bravery for Charlie Brown to try to kick the ball even though he knows after years of experience that the possibility exists that he will fall if Lucy pulls the ball out from under him.

But Charles Schulz’s metaphor goes beyond the mere act of Charlie Brown attempting to kick a ball. After a number of failures, even professional placekickers sabotage themselves. They call it “the yips” – after a number of successive misses, a kicker thinks too much and their mechanics suffer. As a result, placekicking is a self-fulfilling process – if you are confident, your mechanics are flawless. If not, you will miss badly and embarrassingly.

After each time I try and fail at even initiating a relationship, my approach and preparation suffers as I overanalyze each past or potential relationship. I become neurotic after a lifetime’s collection of misses – becoming a self-conscious, worried, neurotic basket case. I make bad decisions – or, worse, think that every woman is Lucy as Charlie Brown’s holder on a field goal attempt. I become, in short, an over analytical mess – the inter-gender equivalent of Lin Elliott after he missed a number of successive field goals. So I stop trying, equating “relationship” with “failure.”

It shouldn’t matter, though. Others do not, of course, define me. Further, if I try again, I should do so without cynicism and without thinking about decades of failures. The process, thoughts and preparations of attempting to kick the ball or start a relationship is all that matters – the result doesn’t. It is brave to try knowing you might fail. It is a leap of faith for me that I may or may not ever try again – if I do, I hope to try with the same wonderful charming naiveté displayed by the young woman last night. Of course, the woman I ultimately attempt to initiate relationship with might have to supply a bountiful amount of patience and possibly a syringe filled with Thorazine in order to deal with my initial nervousness. It would be worth it for both of us.

Cynicism, age and guile are overrated – you end up being the bitter former player sitting in the stands criticizing others when you just lack the skill or guts to attempt what those on the field try every day.

In short, I should at least try. Also, unlike Charlie Brown, I should take great care in selecting the placeholder.

Coronation to A Takeover

If you haven’t seen the pictures from Agent Zero’s 25th soiree, do so here, here, here and oh, for God sake’s this is funny, here. If this season was Gilbert’s “Takeover”, this is about as close as we’re going to see to a Coronation until the playoffs.

What is so rare about Arenas is how he has shoved his way into superstardom. We live in an age in which basketball superstars are often given their status before their first regular season game. College players receive huge publicity, with March Madness providing new NBA players more notoriety than they would ever receive from the regular season. The NBA Draft provides further hype for players and helps the league further introduce newer players. Finally, shoe companies assault us with propaganda not only promoting their product, but also the players promoting the shoes. Case in point: throughout all of last year, we were informed continually that “We Are All Witnesses” for Lebron’s ascendancy, even before we even had a chance to witness anything concrete.

Agent Zero had to earn his place in the NBA hierarchy. He received no attention in the NBA Draft, becoming the first second-round pick in recent memory to reach superstardom. No love from the shoe companies, either: I never saw an advertisement for Gilbert until this year, despite his media-friendly image. Unlike lesser lights like Carmelo, he has won a playoff series. Unlike Iverson, he actually makes his teammates better through his play.

Before the season, the narrative by “NBA experts” seemed pre-written: LeBron James would take the leap into Transcendent Superstardom and vie with Detroit, Chicago and Miami for regular-season dominance. He then would dispatch a lesser light such as “The Flaky and Erratic Gilbert Arenas and The Washington Wizards, Who Play No Defense” in the first round. Then, LeBron would face Miami, Detroit and/or Chicago in his attempt to reach a NBA Finals. It seemed so pre-destined that FreeDarko aptly named LeBron “The Foregone Conclusion” last year.

The narrative has changed as Gilbert is completing his Takeover. Agent Zero gets more advertising love during TNT games than even LeBron, now becoming the focal point of the It Takes Five ad campaign, taking center stage from past Addidas co-stars such as Tracy McGrady. He’s a MVP candidate, completely unthinkable just two seasons ago. His game winning shot against Milwaukee, to say nothing of his performances against Kobe and Phoenix on the road, have created a serious buzz that has eluded The Foregone Conclusion or anyone else this year. He's now routinely scoring 30, 40 and sometimes 50 on a nightly basis, often with double-digit assists. Detractors have begrudgingly upgraded the Wizards from “no-defense pretender” to “incredibly dangerous Eastern Conference playoff opponent.”

The narrative for Gilbert vs. LeBron was supposed to be The Foregone Conclusion vs. The Mercurial, Flawed Flake. True NBA cynics might still think that it won’t be altered and that the NBA honestly prefers its 20-year old superstar to a quote-friendly gunner.

I’m not so sure that, post-Takeover, this narrative will be either that popular, or that pre-destined, as once thought. Gilbert generates enthusiasm, even among NBA analysts who hate the team’s defense. Gilbert, unlike LeBron, appears to have an actual personality and a willingness to be interesting. Quick: outside of the packaged advertisement campaign, name a single interesting thing that LeBron has ever said or done?

Agent Zero might, GASP, might be becoming be more of a Fan Favorite than LeBron. And, despite what happens in this year’s playoff, that might be the Takeover Agent Zero achieves this year.

Meaning in Meaningless

The qualities of a champion.

Anyone who has viewed any NFL Films clip, or listened to a Bill Walton broadcast, is aware of the seductive nature of that phrase. Once one wins a championship, this phrase implies that a player or a coach is above the rabble that competes with them in the regular season. It is a seductive phrase, but devoid of any true meaning. Often, a champion team includes players who truly are just more talented – or luckier -- than those they just defeated. Further, their actions during or before the championship are often airbrushed with hindsight.

This week the defending champions showed contempt for the game. It has become evident that two of its most high profile personalities, Shaquille O'Neal and Pat Riley proved that they are disdainful for the product the NBA produces before the playoffs.

Riley is the easiest to condemn. Since he left the Lakers, he has justifiably been condemned for his flashy style and dangerous substance. In New York, he almost single-handedly led the slow-down, thuggish style of the Knicks, which has taken David Stern a full decade to eradicate. In Miami, he brought in a number of high-profile players like a Rotisserie owner, and then threw his comparably low-profile coach when the players refused to "respond" to someone who dared not previously coach Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. He replaced him and won a Championship with the least aesthetically pleasing performance of any NBA Finals winner of recent memory. It was the reverse of what basketball writers hold dear: star wattage over shot selection. This year, with the team struggling mightily without Shaq, he quit on his team by deciding to undergo a surgery that he did not undergo in the off-season. He even admitted that he would not have left if the team had performed better. In comes substitute teacher Ron Rothstein, with a lovely West Coast roadtrip and the team perilously close to becoming the first Championship team to miss the playoffs since the Bulls.

O'Neal? This year, Shaq is sitting out longer than usual with his traditional mid-season injury, hoping that his "supporting cast" can get him to April. Even with the Lakers, Shaq would sleepwalk through regular seasons, knowing that the logic of the NBA forgets about anything that occurs before April. Even being the 5th best team in the West was acceptable, knowing all would be forgotten in the small sample size of a seven game series. Then, with his unmatched physical gifts, he would dominate, as long as it took place inside the lane. Unlike Jordan, unlike Bird, unlike Magic, unlike Russell, this is why he will never be a part of the pantheon of the NBA elite. You got the sense with those players that they would fiercely compete in any endeavor, particularly a basketball game. No way that Michael Jordan would allow his team let his team to take a game off, let alone portions of a season. In short, you never got the sense that Shaq cared about anything but the attention and the glory the games in March and April bring.

What does this really tell us about either Shaq or Riley? Both obviously will be considered part of the elite, with their multiple rings and inevitable documentaries with deep voiceovers telling us that they showed a "qualities of a champion." And I'm sure most NBA fans won't particularly care about what occurred in the interlude between ring ceremonies. And at no point will either Shaq or Riley give back any of the money they gained from their career, generated in part from the revenue derived from the regular season which they ignored. Who knows? Pat Riley might even write another book on "motivation" for naive middle managers who work in cubicles.

Much of sports commentary is both seductive and incorrect. “Meaningless” regular season games are often anything but – in fact, they provide the best clue to which players and coaches are truly competitive. Games in May and June matter more because of the nature of the NBA calendar, but performances in the regular season are often just as meaningful because of their very context.

The qualities of a champion are usually displayed outside of the championship series.