A blog about hockey hair? Yes a blog about hockey hair (and everything else). We’re blessed to be fans of an awesome sport that brings us truly awesomely awful hair. This my friends is a celebration of that. Some say the days of sick flows in our game are gone, i’m here to challenge that! If you’ve come looking for in depth analyses of anything meaningful to the game, then my friend you have come to the wrong place. This is a celebration of anything hockey related for anyone that will read it. And since we are discussing hockey hair, what better way to start than to speak of the king of all sports mullets, Mr. Jagr himself:
Jaromir Jagr was born February 15th 1972 in Kladno, Czechoslovakia. He began
growing that sweet mullet skating at the age of three and by the age of 16 he was playing pro hockey in the Czechoslovakian First League for local Klando HC.
Sources can neither confirm nor deny if that sweet sweet flow was present durring this time in his life. All we know is, by the time draft day on June 16, 1990 came around it was ready for it’s USA debut, only question was, was North America ready for ‘Monster Mullet’?
He was drafted 5th overall by the Penguins in draft class that includes such
hair greats as Owen Nolan (1st), Marty Brodeur (20th) and fellow Czech Petr Nedved (2nd). He molded quickly into that powerhouse Pens team and ended up winning back to back cups in 91 and 92 scoring 57, 64 and 92 points respectively in his first 3 seasons as a Pensguins. Young Jaromir was at the top of the world and so was the mullet. Playing alongside Super Mario proved to be quite lucrative, and the hardware soon followed:
- Stanley Cup Winner – 1991, 1992 (Pittsburgh)
- Hart Trophy (MVP) – 1999
- Art Ross Trophy (Leading point scorer) – 1995, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001
- Lester B. Pearson Award (Players’ MVP) – 1999, 2000, 2006
- NHL First Team All-Star – 1995, 1996, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2006
- NHL Second Team All-Star – 1997
- NHL All-Rookie Team – 1991
Yes Jagr and his hair had done it all at a very young age. However, migration was on the horizon for Jagr (and that sweet sweet mullet), however no one new the brutality about to be committed.
The year was 1999. The Y2K craze was everywhere, Family guy premiered everything looked promising during the dawn of a new horizon. However, sometime between October and December 1999 Mr. Jaromir had done the unthinkable: HE CUT HIS (SWEET SWEET) MULLET! And just like those gorgeous locks slowly falling to the ground after being brutalized by that butcher who calls him self a stylist, his production fell. Failing to find the net in 2000 he was quickly traded to the Washington
Capitals in a deal that saw Jagr and František Kučera go to the Washington Capitals in exchange for Kris Beech, Michal Sivek and Ross Lupaschuk.
Jagr signed a 7 year 77 million dollar contract (Then the NHL biggest). However, Jágr did not live up to expectations, as the Capitals failed to defend their division title and missed the playoffs in 2002. Even when the Capitals reunited him with linemate Robert Lang during summer 2002, Jágr failed to finish among the league’s top scorers or make the postseason All-Star Team during his time with the Capitals. In 2002–03 Washington managed to finish 6th overall in the Eastern Conference, but lost to the upstart Tampa Bay Lightning in the first round of the playoffs despite winning the first two games.
So he cuts his hair and production drops? Yes sir. It’s obvious. Sick Flow = Sick Skillz (witha z). We all know what happens next with stints in NYR and the Czech Republic and Russia, followed by the sweet melodrama of this summer. One thing is clear, that sweet sweet mullet will remain is a part of NHL history as important as Lanny McDonald’s stache
or Bobby Clarke’s grill
. All we have is the time it was here, like days of yesteryear that are gone, we are left with only sweet memories of Jagr streaking down the wing with the sweet sweet flow trailing behind him. Memories of a much simpler time, when life wasn’t as hard and people weren’t as judgmental. But then again when your rocking that sweet sweet mullet who’s gonna tell you shit?