As per playoff hockey tradition, I'm growing one for the duration of the Bruins' playoff run. This year, however, the nastiness of my thin beard will not be in vain (or for the purposes of scratching the skin off my girlfriend's face).
No, this year I will be participating in the NHL's Beard-A-Thon project.
In case you aren't aware, Beard-A-Thon is an NHL fundraiser, and proceeds benefit the Boston Bruins Foundation, "a non-profit foundation whose mission is to assist charitable organizations that demonstrate a strong commitment to enhancing the quality of life for children throughout New England. The Foundation, which provides grants to organizations that meet the standards of its mission, concentrates on athletics, academics, health, and community outreach programs that assist in helping enrich the lives of children."
I implore you to please pledge me on Bruins Beard-A-Thon!
I am almost ashamed to admit this, but yesterday I learned of one of the most impressive feats in sports history... thanks to Robin Williams. Being Robin Williams, the story naturally involves levels of counterculture, including drugs, sex, and alcohol (or those in any combination) for comedic effect. However, the comedic function or illicit nature of the tale should not hinder the extraordinary nature of this accomplishment. If you are a better sports historian than I, have seen Williams' HBO special "Weapons of Self-Destruction," or have even taken the time to read the title of this entry, you of course know that I am speaking of the incredible Dock Ellis.
Dock Phillip Ellis, Jr. made his major league debut in 1968 as a starting pitcher with the Pittsburgh Pirates, and spent 12 seasons in the majors, pitching for teams such as the Oakland A's, Texas Rangers, and New York Mets. Ellis retired with a record of 138-119, an ERA of 3.46 and 1, 136 strikeouts. His best season was arguably 1971 in which he went 19-9 with a 3.06 ERA, was selected for the first, and only time, to the NL All-Star team and won a World Series.
However, Ellis is best known for several strange on-field incidents throughout his career. Among them is the no-hitter Ellis pitched against the San Diego Padres on June 12, 1970... while under the influence of LSD. As the story goes, Ellis thought the Pirates had an off-day and was spending the day in Los Angeles doing acid with friends. Ellis took acid at noon, and it was not until his girlfriend looked at the paper an hour later that Dock realized he was scheduled to start that night in San Diego. So, they rushed him onto a plane to make the game.
That night, Ellis struck out six, walked eight, and pitched 9 innings of hitless baseball despite not being able to feel the ball or see the catcher. As Ellis explains:
I can only remember bits and pieces of the game. I was psyched. I had a feeling of euphoria. I was zeroed in on the (catcher's) glove, but I didn't hit the glove too much. I remember hitting a couple of batters and the bases were loaded two or three times. The ball was small sometimes, the ball was large sometimes, sometimes I saw the catcher, sometimes I didn't. Sometimes I tried to stare the hitter down and throw while I was looking at him. I chewed my gum until it turned to powder. I started having a crazy idea in the fourth inning that Richard Nixon was the home plate umpire, and once I thought I was pitching a baseball to Jimi Hendrix, who to me was holding a guitar and swinging it over the plate. They say I had about three to four fielding chances. I remember diving out of the way of a ball I thought it was a line drive. I jumped, but the ball wasn't hit hard and never reached me.
Magical. There are no other words. A no-hitter eludes most pitchers for their entire careers-- hell, quite a few Hall of Fame hurlers have never completed the task. Compound that with the effects of psychedelics and Ellis' feat is that much more mind-blowing (Excuse the bad pun).
