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Ok, so we all know it is fake. It is scripted - albeit athletic and potentially dangerous - acting that is intended to look like a sport. However, something just strikes me as stupid about jumping into a ring with two guys who are easily 250+ lbs, 6′2″+, regardless of whether their fights are fake or not. Even if you do get on camera, everyone now knows that you are a douche.
Last week, I provided the world with what I deemed my first post college tour de force. “NASCAR 101: How to Mullet Hunt and Survive” was a 5 year documentary of my trials and tribulations as an enthusiast of the backyard follicle wonder. However, hundreds of people sent me links and youtube videos on hairstyles they considered more majestic than the mullets dawned by NASCAR fans . . . and I found myself heaven. Call me Nostradamus, because I am predicting the end of the American clean neck by year 2018. Dirty European Soccer Mullets: the future of American mullet tolerance.
First of all, I must rant about soccer and Europe, as well as explain my position with the mullet. I have never played soccer nor been to Europe. As a matter of fact, I have never traveled north of Virginia or west of Dollywood. This spring break, however, I did make my farthest trip away from home to New Orleans, only to return disappointed because hunting gators is apparently against federal law. My credibility in understanding the mullet lies in the fact that I sported one myself for 8 years.
Prior to college, I had an overwhelming distaste for the sport of soccer. I called it soccer, then know-it-all-McGee called it futbol, then his predecessor corrected him with football, then my Uncle PeeWee laid claim on American football, then the town drunk called it that “foot fairy game”, and then a foreign diplomat created the hybrid names of futball and footbol . . . it never ends. The sport seemed to be the bastard child of sports nomenclature. For now, all I ask is that someone provides me with an acceptable worldwide usage for the name of the sport. I took the time to learn the rules on FIFA 08, so please take the time to create a universal name.
Now for what you have all been waiting for, the Dirty European Soccer Mullets. Yes, the fashion declaration that spread to the eastern hemisphere by David Hasselhoff himself has now been intertwined in a sport. 
Whereas in NASCAR the mullets admire the clean-cut drivers, in soccer the clean cuts respect the mullets. Not respect . . . worship. Take for instance David Beckham of the LA Galaxy. Forbes estimated in 2007 that he netted upwards of $29.1 million, not including endorsements and bonuses. He is a prime example of the indifference of opinion between the American and Euro Mullet. In England, Beckham wore a modified mullet with pride. Many of his teammates and opponents (take for instance, Ronaldo) still wear a full-blown mullet with pride. Unfortunately, in America Beckham’s modi-mullet is no more. Mullets are respected and accepted in European soccer, giving true meaning to the words the “beautiful game”.
If Jimmy Johnson or Dale Jr. decided to rock a business in the front, party in the back lifestyle they would be slaughtered by the media. The only respect that Americans have for the mullet is the pleasure we get in making fun of its existence. As I said in my previous article:
ALWAYS respect the mullet. These men have spent the majority of their lives grooming and tailoring a business in the front, party in the back lifestyle. They are stronger individuals than you, and much more self confident in their appearance. If you can’t sport the hairdo, then respect the men that can.
The point of my argument is that in two different cultures, redneck southern America and European soccer fandom, we have the mullet in common. Only our two cultures can truly rock and respect the hairstyle simultaneously. In America, the mullet is often ridiculed and poked fun at as a sign of “trash” or lower class. In Europe, the elite shampoo their rear-neck riches in the overpowering awe of their followers. The dirty European soccer mullet is free to flap in the wind, to be the last thing an opponent sees as it speeds past, and to be petted by the beautiful women that these men date. The mullet in Europe has evolved into a symbol of wealth and fortune, while in America it has come to mean the polar opposite. The mullet is also making a strong appearance in South America, where the players deem is the “soccer rocker”.
If foreign trends continue, I am predicting a heavy surge of the popularity of soccer in America. And with this rise in soccer comes the dirty European soccer mullets. And with millions of children seeing their mullet-wearing soccer idols on TV, there will be a resurge of mullets in America. Unlike the Billy Ray Cyrus mullet craze, this one will be here to stay. Within 10 years, the mullet will be back and will be respected. If you are one of those people that show a lack of respect for the mullet, then you will not be allowed to rock it when it comes back. For mullet America: prepare yourself for glory because the sport that few Americans understand is bringing back the hair that defines your lifestyles.
Colby Almond
Chapel Hill, North Carolina
I understand trash talking is an integral part of sports, but Big Brown’s Trainer Rick Dutrow needs to lay off the celebratory bourbon and quit talking trash. In yet another article released yesterday, Dutrow exlaims:
“I feel like it’s actually a foregone conclusion. To me, I just see the horses he’s in with and I see our horse so I expect him to win this race. … I know that when that day actually does come, and if our horse is in good shape, it will be the most exciting, thrilling moment of my life. So I just … I know that that’s coming, but right now I’m just staying involved with our horse and what we think is best to get him there the right way and it keeps us plenty busy.”
The triple crown is looming, but Big Brown is far from the certain winner. Casino Drive is on fire and has yet to lose a race. This will be Big Brown’s top opponent, and one that may certainly uproot his legendary status. We’ve seen it happen all too many times, a horse lose the triple crown that was heavily favored, and it just may happen this year yet again.
I would like nothing more than to see a Triple Crown winner. It would help revivive the sport of horse racing within the modern generations of children that have no idea who Secretariat was.
In the small English town of Ashbourne during 2 days a year the people divide to play a sport with the purpose of scoring the “toughest goal”. Sure kicking a ball into the net takes some skill, but even these people would say scoring in a sport such as rugby is only for the weak. Imagine thousands of people, divided by a river, with 2 days to get a ball across town with one simple rule: no murder. That is only the beginning in Royal Shrovetide Football.
The Time:
The game of Royal Shrovetide is played annually on Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday in Ashbourne, which is located in Derbyshire, England. The pitch begins at 2:00 pm and lasts until 10:00 pm. If a ball is goaled before 5:00, then a new ball is released in the town centre and play continues. Otherwise, play is over for the day.
The Teams:
Through the middle of Ashbourne runs a river called the Hanmore Brook. People born north of the river are on the Up’Ards and people from the south are called Down’Ards. On opposite ends of the town are two goal posts that are located 3 miles apart. The Up’Ards attempt to score at Sturston Mill, and the Down’Ards at the Clifton Mill, each located in a river. In order to score, the team must move the ball from the town centre, to their mill, and then bang the ball on the wall 3 consecutive times.
The Game:
There is no limit to the number of players the Up or Down’Ard teams can possess. The teams (composed of thousands of people) are encouraged to stay within the confinements of Ashbourne. As a precaution all stores and shops board up their windows and all cars are parked miles away. The crowd gathers at a specially designed plinth in the middle of Town Square to begin the game. Prior to the beginning, they sing Auld Lang Syne followed by God Save the Queen. Shortly after, town (or in some cases actual royalty) figures throw the custom painted ball into the crowd. From there, the chaos begins.
The “Rules”:
The only real official rule to the game is no murder or manslaughter. But a good way to find you in a sticky situation during the game is to:
1) Carry the ball by motorized vehicle.
2) Hide the ball under your coat or in a bag.
3) Run into a cemetery, churchyard, or memorial.
Also, unnecessary roughness is heavily frowned upon, although a common occurrence during the 2 day game.
The Roll of Honor
The roll of honor is an official document, which keeps history of each scorer and the turner-up (the person who threw the ball) during each of the game. If you are a visitor wishing to score on either of the two teams, you are out of luck. Each part of town usually predetermines who will score the goals and thus keep the ball. It is usually respected members or families of the town, for they frown upon visitors getting their names placed in the Roll of Honor.
Here are a few videos of this great brute of a sport unfolding:
I have coached youth football and basketball for nearly 6 years now, and I have found one thing to be uncommon. That is children that are genuinely interested in playing the sport for themselves. In many cases the child is pushed by their parents to get in uniform and to hit the field. That is completely fine because it is the coach’s job to make it interesting for them. But one of the best things ever is what the child does to stay entertained during the game. Take for instance this tee ball player. If he isn’t dancing, playing with his privates, or throwing his glove, he’s attempting to keep his actions hidden from his coach. Classic.
The kid’s got moves, that’s for sure. Perhaps he should give up the left field position and cleats then put on the dancing shoes for a while.
Since May of 2003, I have made the annual Memorial Day weekend trip home from college with my buddies to visit the Coca Cola 600. Admittedly, I am a redneck from the hills of Aquadale, North Carolina, a community with no stoplights, no post office, one store, and a larger population of billy goats than people. My first NASCAR experience was with my Uncle Peewee in 1998 (the same uncle who refused to wear tuxedo pants in my cousin’s wedding, then threatened to ‘haunt our asses’ if we buried him in anything besides Wranglers). Anyways, I currently work in the big city, but I love sharing tips and information to my northern brethren about how to survive in the South. It’s more than learning to love grits, sweet tea, or how to whistle the Andy Griffith theme song . . . trust me.
If you want to put your Southern skills to the test, go to a NASCAR race. To make it more interesting, I am challenging you to a game that is 5 years in the making: NASCAR mullet hunting.
Taking pictures of mullets is more dangerous than you think. Southern folk do not like to have their pictures taken. Don’t ask me why, but every Christmas my Grand Ma “Grady” sits in the kitchen eating a cheese ball to avoid the camera. In the sport of mullet hunting, you will be pointing the camera right in their direction. To make things worse, alcohol will be heavily involved. On top of that the temperature will be a scorching 90 degrees and your prey will be on the verge of 3rd degree sunburns. So if you think that blatantly taking a picture of a drunken, sunburned mullet bearer in your new Gucci wear is a good idea . . . think again my friend. Please join me as I take you through 4 vital steps to practicing and surviving the sport of NASCAR mullet hunting.
DRESS THE PART
The first step to fitting in at a NASCAR event is to actually look like you belong at the race. This is a tricky situation, because you can either look like a dumbass not wearing enough of the right clothing, or like a Yankee that tried too hard. You do not want to be on either end in this situation. Here are a few pointers for both men and women so you do not stick out like a sore thumb during the race.
FOR MEN: There are only two options for your shirt, if you opt to even wear one at all. If you choose to go shirtless, be sure to have your friends mark you with either a) a tribal tattoo intersecting a skull or b) a Dale Earnhardt Jr. tattoo proudly displaying the number 8 (he changed his number to 88 this season). Both will be conversation starters and you will be sure to see many more tattoos just like yours while trolling for the backyard follicle surprise. EXCEPTION: If you have six pack other than beer resting on your stomach, keep the shirt on. The presence of abs will evoke taunting and it will be obvious that a) you are from the city or b) you don’t drink enough beer. If you opt to wear the shirt, your two options are either a driver shirt or a flannel shirt, both sleeveless. While picking your driver shirt you have to be ultra selective. Remember, the driver you choose to sport exceedingly represents your morals and personality. If you sport the Jimmy Johnson or Jeff Gordon in North Carolina, it is assumed you are either from California or don’t know anything about racing. Do your research and choose wisely, but the safe bets are always the Dale Earnhardt, Mark Martin, Kasey Kahne, or old schooled driver shirts you can find at your local thrift shop. If you can’t find a driver shirt, the just chop off the sleeves of a flannel and leave it buttoned up half way. For your pants, it’s either jorts or jeans . . . the decision is up to you, but both work.
FOR WOMEN: Women, NASCAR races are your chance to metaphorically experience the Paris runway. To know you are beautiful and being watched all at the same time is a great feeling. During our initial race in 2003, we noticed a peculiar phenomenon occurring at the time. It made absolutely no sense at all, but at the same time we liked it. Women at the race were wearing outfits that would be deemed illegal in 27 of the 50 states in America. Normal society would turn their heads at the women wearing these outfits . . . because it didn’t matter if they were 105 lbs or 280 lbs, the dress was all the same and it was beautiful. Thus, we coined the term “race hott”. The general definition is: a woman who would be deemed unacceptable in regular society due to her figure or scantily clad clothing is deemed hott while inside the confinements of NASCAR. That’s right, no matter what you wear, if you are showing skin you will always be “race hott” in the eyes of men at the race. So women, you can wear whatever you would like, because at the race the world is yours if a little belly is showing below your tube top.
LIVE THE PART
By living the part, I mean setting up your campgrounds or tailgating area. This is absolutely essential to the sport of mullet hunting, because the slightest error in your pre-race routine can easily blow your true intentions of capturing the best mullets on film. Your camp ground should not contain any of the following: foreign made cars, foreign made beers, a radio blasting the Indy 500 happening earlier that day, tofu, a reference to any college besides a southeastern college, a soccer ball, Frisbee, or any music that sounds like THIS. (Trust me, the music will explain EVERYTHING for you). Instead, try driving a Ford, drinking Bud-heavy, playing the entire 2007 Coca-Cola 600 via cassette on the radio, eating an entire rack of ribs, sporting a UNC or USC college sticker, throwing the football, and listening to Hank Williams Jr. Also, any provocative signs that you can include at your campsite will only heighten your chances of success in fitting into the redneck realm (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, check out the banner in the picture below . . . CLASSY). If you can sit in your site by your cooler with the utmost confidence in your proper clothing, then you’re half way there!
ACT THE PART
Looking and living like a Southerner will get you about as far as a frog in the mud if you don’t know how to properly act. Don’t worry about perfecting a Southern accent because it’s not going to happen overnight and the harder you try, the less you will fit in. Instead, if someone asks you where you are from, simply tell him or her you were raised in (make up a weird name and put ‘Pond’ on the end of it, North Carolina) and that you moved to Raleigh. Through process of reasoning, they will assume your accent disappeared among the city folk, and there’s nothing wrong with that. After your accent has been explained and accepted, attempt to avoid conversations dealing with NASCAR if you have no idea what you are talking about. If you are pulled into one, always say “as long as Gordon doesn’t win” and change topics. For instance:
Man: “The track is recorded at 101 degrees today, they might have some trouble with the tires once the sun sets and it starts to cool off. I hope Martin’s crew members are ready for it”.
You: “As long as Gordon doesn’t win . . .” - It will work every time.
Also, always have a beer in your hand with proper coozie applied. The coozie should be NASCAR relevant, camouflage, or have a reference to beer and no colorful crap. There is no sunshine and rainbows involved in drinking beer; it’s a serious job at the race and your coozie has an essential task. Finally, wave and talk to anyone that acknowledges your existence. This might be hard for people that have experienced the callous nature of the city, but at the race everyone is your friend . . . especially the royalty that boasts backs of necks that have never been blistered by the sun.
THE ART OF MULLET HUNTING
If you have followed the instructions outlined above, then you are well seasoned and ready for the ultimate hunt. There are three rules we always abide by while mullet hunting that you must always keep in mind or your trophy picture will be disqualified.
1. ALWAYS respect the mullet. These men have spent the majority of their lives grooming and tailoring a business in the front, party in the back lifestyle. They are stronger individuals than you, and much more self confident in their appearance. If you can’t sport the hairdo, then respect the men that can.
2. If you are caught taking the picture and can’t lie your way out, then always delete the picture. Save the violence for defending your driver in the grand stands or seeking vengeance for your spilt beer.
3. No taking pictures of kids with mullets. Why? Because dawning a mullet is a life decision and conscious effort that reflects your personality and lifestyle. A mullet isn’t great unless it has been entwined into someone’s life . . . or your skull like Joe Dirt.
The Point System
The mullet hunting point system is rather simple. The location of the picture itself is the first criteria for gaining points.
A mullet from the back acquires one (1) point: There is no skill involved in capturing the mullet from the back. Sure, it shows the style in all its glory, but no guts no glory in this sport.
A mullet from the side acquires two (2) points: I call this style the “Bigfoot” pose. I have found the best way to capture a mullet from the side is by yelling “Boobs” at the top of my lungs. The specimen will begin a prairie dog-like sequence of looking back and forth. The photo opportunities here are endless.
A mullet from the front acquires three (3) points: Only the serious mullet hunters go for this method of photography. There are no secrets or special skills involved in this, you just have to have the guts and ability to capture a mullet from the front.
For each of the following items, add one (1) point: Any woman considered “race hott”, if the man is shirtless, if there is a beer in the picture, if there is a race related tattoo, if there is a tribal tattoo, or if there is a visible “farmers” tan line.
Add two (2) points: If you can include yourself, or another friend in the picture with the mullet.
Add three (3) points: If you are actually touching the mullet in the picture. I have never been able to pull this off, but I am certain there are some natural mullet hunters out there that can.
At the end of the day, view and tally the points for every picture. Your grand total will be the sum of all pictures taken at the race.
CONCLUSION
I love the South, I always have and I always will. For those of you that have never been to a race, or do not think it will fun, this is your answer. For five years I have racked up a total of 1,880 points at a total of five races . . . and I have never placed higher than third. The mullets are there, you just have to go out and find them. There is magic in the air at these races, you just have to ignore the human gases and funnel cake fumes. I look forward to seeing this sport grow as an integral part of the NASCAR pre game ritual.
EDITOR’S NOTE:
Before you call me “spoiled” or “looking down upon these people”, think again. I love my Stanly County home (yes, this is the birthplace of Kellie Pickler . . . she’s even my age) and would like nothing more than to be back there some day. I grew up for the first 8 years of my life with a mullet, before switching to a rat tail for 2 years, then sticking with a bowl cut for three. My baby pictures are even mulletrific. My hair has partied with the best, but fortunately my brain told me it was time to switch to only business. Plus I think it’s against the code of conduct at UNC. Below is a picture that closely resembles the aesthetic beauty my mother instilled at the back of my neck as a youngster:
–Colby Almond, Chapel Hill, NC
Here are a few of the mullet pictures taken over the years:
Tonight is the game I have been waiting for . . . the Celtics and Pistons meeting up to claim the title of Eastern Conference champions. I’m not a huge NBA fan, but there are two players who absolutely deserve the spotlight and attention in my eyes: Kevin Garnett and Rasheed Wallace. Tonight we finally get to see them face off.
Rasheed has averaged 33.7 minutes per game and 13.9 points. He is shooting 33% from down town and 43% from the floor. Kevin is averaging 37.9 minutes per game, 20.3 points per game, and is shooting 51.3% from the field. Pretty good numbers from such big men.
Let’s hope for the sake of everyone’s safety Sheed gets a win in this series . . . or we could possibly have a recap of last year.
Nasty.
Honestly, his chain broke. He dropped a chain. So he does what any reasonable person would do; toss a $5000+ bike over the side of a bridge.