I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what to write here. How could I sum up the anxiety and uncertainty about tonight’s game 7? Will it all end tonight? Will our beards not reach biblical proportions?
We say NO. The Caps have won their last 4 Wednesday games. Tonight shall be no different. The boys in red will prevail, as will our facial hair.
Our beards cannot give up, they cannot surrender. My beard is only a faint glimmer of its full potential. Besides, girls seem to think my beard is cute, and I WILL NOT let that go away. This #beardpact must survive the night, there is no other option. May my razor rust and all my neighbors think I’m a danger to their kids before I have to shave this beard.
#beardpacters, what say you?
Ian’s got his game face on.
Peter is attempting to make amends for shaving last week, and has made the necessary sacrifices to Olaf the Troll God.
Neil has taken a break from babysitting to grow at least a full centimeter of beard length since game 6. Now he looks like a sad Wayne Coyne.
Fedor’s commitment to the cause is starting to have me concerned.
Game 7 anxiety is making Stevie K’s blood sugar’s erratic, but seems to be fueling his beard growth remarkably.
Parade of Stubble Fully-realized Beards
Those are some solid looking beards/nails right there. This group is hungry for a win. LET’S DO THIS!