The CSN Facial Hair Phenomenon

Hello everyone, and happy holidays.  I hope all of you got to spend some meaningful time with your friends and family during the past week.  As for me,  I was lucky enough to get a few days off and make the trip to Alton, Illinois, where I celebrated Christmas with my girlfriend’s family.

However, the big news is that I didn’t shave once during the entire trip.  Now strangely, my girlie always seems to find me more attractive with some stubble and even went so far as to say I looked like a "model” two days ago.  I believe she meant that I’m the rare man who could still “model” husky-size jeans for teenage boys because my body is so grossly underdeveloped, but I didn’t ask.

Instead, I let Lisa convince me that I should go on the air with my new facial scruff.  So if you watched SportsNite this past weekend, you probably wondered why I looked like a bad fill-in for Don Johnson on "Miami Vice."  Well, now you know the answer.

However, it looks like I wasn’t the only Comcast SportsNet employee who decided to “go natural” during the past couple of weeks.  A facial hair phenomenon has spread through the newsroom like a canker sore outbreak wildfire.  And after some gentle coaxing and/or sneaky searching on Facebook, I was able to get pictures of almost every party affected.  Thus, I’ve decided to give each individual beard a name, and most importantly, an inside look at the people behind the facial hair.  Enjoy.

The Serial Killer

Ali has reason to smile.  Behind his glasses and long-time dedication to the Orioles is a man who was recently acquitted of a series of gruesome murders thanks to a hung jury.  He’s got a look that says, “Of course I’d be willing to use a circular saw and/or Ginsu knife to cut off your limbs and store them in large barrels in my studio apartment.  Also, you probably want to keep your children away from me.”

Bravo to our network for not letting Ali’s criminal past prevent him from being hired and contributing to our day-to-day operations.  When Ali is eventually arrested again and led out of the newsroom in handcuffs, we’ll have the exclusive video and be able to lead with the story on SportsNite.  It’s a win-win.

The Flavor Saver

At first, Jim’s choice appears to be a simple goatee.  But look closer.  He has brilliantly decided that the hair directly under his lip should be at least eight to ten times longer than every other hair on his face.  For a split second, I honestly thought I was looking at Mr. Miyagi's love child.  And because this handy, man-made device prevents even the tiniest morsel of food from escaping his mouth, Jim is able to enjoy each meal as if it were his last.

True story:  Over the holidays, Jim was enjoying a delicious piece of chocolate pie topped with Cool Whip, but something just didn’t taste right.  Yes, the pie was tasty, but there was something missing.  A full three days later, Jim found the entire Cool Whip topping directly in those long, luscious whiskers, allowing him to savor a tasty, afternoon treat without even taking a lunch break.  Well played, sir.

The Professor

When Mark is not ensuring that our server is working properly, you can find him at your local community college teaching a variety of subjects ranging from “Learning the Abacus” to “History of the Unicycle.”

Mark also has an extensive collection of books on tape, and he enjoys twisting the curly hairs on his beard as he smiles and enjoys nifty 1950’s anecdotes as narrated by Paul Harvey.

This picture will also appear on the back cover of Mark’s upcoming non-fiction classic “My Fascination with Photosynthesis.”

The Puber (PEW-ber) 

Despite allegedly experiencing puberty over 20 years ago, I am still unable to grow a beard that makes me look like a grown man.  When my beard does come in, it is a splotchy, multi-colored mess that definitively answers the question that has haunted my former girlfriends for years:  “Shouldn’t his voice be deeper?”

Yes, ladies.  The answer is yes.

Ironically, the most fascinating part of my facial hair growth is that it remains the hairiest part of my body.  Often, I can be seen at my desk comparing my smooth, irregular chest to Michael Jackson’s in the “You Are Not Alone” video.

(This is the perfect time for all of you who just threw up in your mouth to step away from the computer and take a break.)

The Happy Hobo

Many people with beards look menacing or like someone who is willing to eat your organs with reckless abandon (see Ali above), but Mark isn’t one of them.  He’s the sweetest bearded hobo you’d ever want to meet.  Just look at that face!  All he wants is three squares a day and someone to love. 

When he first arrived at CSN, Mark had no experience, and everything he owned was tied up in a cute, polka-dotted sack on the back of a wooden stick.  Still, we took him in, and now we all feel a little more special thanks to having this guy around.  Mark is always showering us with his positive outlook, despite his rough lot in life.

Mark’s beard is as soft as cotton candy, and his favorite saying is “Who needs a hug?”  Best of all, even if you don’t need one, he’s still going to nuzzle up next to you and give you one anyway!

The I.T. Guy

Adam doesn’t have the fullest, most playfully unkempt beard in the building by chance.  Just look at all of the technological gadgets in the background.  Adam has an unhealthy obsession with the Internet and has not left this room in three years.

His hobbies include unsuccessfully looking for dates on Match.com, Eharmony.com and NerdPassions.com.  (Yes, it’s a real site.)  He also enjoys online role playing using his alter ego, BoyWizard14.

Adam is not our official I.T. person and isn’t actually employed by CSN, but no one has the heart to tell him to leave.  Two years ago, one of our managers tried to coax him into going, which led to this famous exchange:

Manager: “Hey Adam, can I talk to you for a second?”

Adam: “My magic wand turns you into a lemur!!!”

End of conversation.

The Zeus

I’ve saved the best for last.  Tim is the god of beard growing.  No one else comes close.  He will literally come in clean shaven in the morning and look like Rip Van Winkle by lunch.  In fact, the picture above was taken exactly 30 seconds after his face had been wiped clean using a year’s supply of Nair purchased at a local Costco.  It’s disturbing and awe-inspiring all at once.

Legend has it that Tim was abandoned as a child and actually thought to be a Chia Pet before a passerby decided to shave his face, revealing a young boy.

I’m sure Tim views his beard as both a blessing and curse, but he’s the closest thing to a super hero that we’ve got.  Tim, we salute you.

So there you go.  I’m not sure how long this phenomenon will continue here at Comcast SportsNet, but what an incredible cast of characters we have roaming our newsroom nonetheless.  And I swear that all of the above stories are true.

Trust me.  I’m a model.

I Am Thankful... That I've Never Done Crack

I apologize for not updating my blog sooner.  Every few days, I suppose I could rant and rave about how the BCS is the worst idea since Pepsi Clear, or tell you why Mike Tyson shouldn’t babysit your children, but I always like to come up with something a little different.

Since it’s the holiday season, economic times are tough, and I just turned 35, I’ve been in a contemplative mood of late.  And I’ve been thinking about my blessings, which include my current job.  This was further enhanced a couple of weeks ago, when my very good friend Sten Walstrom came to visit me from Spokane, Washington.  Sten is a fine broadcaster and morning anchor for KREM-TV, but we first got to know each other in 1996 when we both worked at KTEN-TV in Dension, Texas, which was the first job for both of us.

When I arrived in Denison (about 75 miles north of Dallas) as a young, green broadcaster from the University of Texas, I had never even seen the station.  All I knew is that I had been hired for the stunning salary of $13,500 a year, just above the poverty line.  Not that I cared.  I was finally going to be a sportscaster.

I can still remember driving up to the station for the first time.  It was a decent looking two-story brick building with some news vehicles out front.  Except there was a small problem.  The building was formerly a train depot.  And the station was actually on the third floor.  A converted attic.  You heard me.  A converted attic.  I fully expected a brother and sister to be up there taking a bath together.  (Think about that one.)

Still, my enthusiasm hadn’t waned a bit upon walking through the front door, and I knew one of the reporters, Amanda, who had helped get me hired.  Almost immediately, I got to experience this fantastic exchange with my new boss:

Amanda: “Gary, this is Michael, our new weekend sports anchor.”

Gary (glaring at me): “I know.  I’ve seen your tape.”

The dude just walked off.  No “hello.”  No “great to have you.”  Nothing.  He recognized me from my resume tape and went on about his day.  This would be a harbinger of my entire experience. 

For example, you don’t really learn about applying make-up in college, so before my first appearance on the anchor desk that weekend, I stopped by a supermarket to buy some.  (Note to all the ladies out there.  The finest quality make-up comes from your local Safeway.)   I figured I wanted to look “tan” on the air, so I’d just buy some dark make-up and be done with it.  People often ask me why you have to wear make-up, but trust me, high resolution cameras + bright lights + Jenks' desperately-in-need-of-Proactiv-skin = bad news. 

Turns out I made a horrible, horrible mistake.  I had no idea that you’re supposed to buy make-up to match your skin tone.  Thus, I looked like a dirty hobo/raccoon with white skin tracings around my eyes and mouth.

Even worse, I had no money for clothes, so I wore a flimsy, worn-out blue suit coat made by Henry Grethel.  One look at the company’s “cutting edge” website tells you all you need to know.  (Is the male model on their front page wearing a Cosby sweater?)

The jacket hung off my skinny frame like a cheap bed sheet.  Better yet, since I had only two jackets to my name, viewers got to see that monstrosity at least once every weekend.  Over time, it became so ratty and pathetic, Sten nicknamed it “Hank.”  Every now and then, before one of my sportscasts, he’d look over at me wearing that thin, limp, blue cloth of a jacket, and he’d just lose it:  “Man... Poor Hank.”

There was only one man ever fooled by that jacket.  I happened to be out on a news story, and the guy I was interviewing suddenly became irritated and says, “You news reporters, wearing your $10,000 suits and thinking you know everything.”  Number one, Hank did not cost $10,000.  More like $50.  Number two, I don’t know anyone who owns a $10,000 suit.  Oh wait.  Yes I do.  He’s called an astronaut.

Sten was never fooled by that jacket.  In fact, within five minutes of visiting a couple of weeks ago, he looks at me and randomly says, “Hey man, remember Hank?”  I don’t remember what happened to Hank, but I’m sure he’s still holding on somewhere.

Anyway, over time, I worked on improving and actually started dating my weekend co-anchor, Amy.  Ahhh, the lovely Amy.  I’ll spare you the details except to say that our relationship ended with us not speaking to each other in real life, pretending to like each other on TV and me “dry heaving” in the sports office.  Good times.

But it’s what happened in the interim that has stuck with me like nothing else in my broadcasting career: The hiring of Rick Kirkham as our boss.  Rick was our fourth news director in a year and a half.  He had most recently worked for “Inside Edition,” which was a huge “red flag.”  Not only because that show is tabloid television, but because it posed one big question:

Why would someone who had been working in New York City for "Inside Edition" come work for us?

You have to understand:  At the time, KTEN was the worst station in America.  I’m not kidding.  We were a tri-affiliate.  ABC.  NBC.  Fox.  To this day, I’ve still never heard of such a set-up.  That meant your schizophrenic nightly line-up looked something like this:

7:00 - Home Improvement

7:30 – Seinfeld

8:00 – Beverly Hills, 90210, Part One

8:30 – Circus of the Stars

9:30 – Beverly Hills, 90210, Part Two

You never knew what in God’s name was going to show up on our network.  If we had randomly thrown in an episode of “Falcon Crest” from time to time, or even a “Dorf on Golf” video, no one would have ever known the difference.  Why a "Falcon Crest" reference?  Two words, folks: Lorenzo Lamas.

The first thing Rick did was call a meeting to tell us that he was blown away by the amount of talent at our station, and that we were all “going national.”  This was akin to convincing someone that Andy Dick is going to win an Oscar.  We all knew better.

A few weeks later, Rick took it to another level.  He learned that I was looking for a new job and decided to call me into his office for a “chat.”  Let's relive it together:

Rick: “Michael, I’m disappointed to hear you’re trying to leave us.”

MJ: “Rick, look into the newsroom.  We’re all trying to leave.  I make $13,500 a year and I make more than some of these people.”

Rick: “Well, you can’t keep anything from me.  Look, if you whisper something to Amy in bed, it’s going to get back to me.”

Ummmm… did my boss just make a reference to my girlfriend and me making sweet love to the sounds of Barry White and/or Ace of Base in the background?  Alright, so he left out the music part, but he definitely said it.  And while I sat there with a stunned look on my face, he threw in this blockbuster nugget:

Rick: “Michael, you’re never going anywhere.  You suck, and management hates you.”

Now, if the first thing to pop into your mind after hearing that is, “Hey Jenkins, you still suck!!!” well, fair enough.  But that's not the point.

I could tell you all sorts of stories like this one:

*The night I wrecked one of our news vehicles in the middle of an Oklahoma cow pasture, but the car was so messed up beforehand that no one ever noticed the damage.

*The night I asked our director to please not smoke pot at my desk after the show.

*The day Rick was forced to resign after trying to buy crack at a local drug house.

Did I mention that I'm talking about a television station and not a college frat house?  I used to tell these stories, and I don’t think people quite believed me.  And even writing them now, there are probably a few people who think I’m exaggerating or libeling Rick.

Well, not to worry.  In 2006, Rick became a celebrity of sorts when he was the subject of a documentary called “TV Junkie,” detailing his seven-year addiction to crack-cocaine.  The movie was put together from thousands of hours of footage that Rick shot himself during his career.  The film actually won a documentary award at the Sundance Film Festival and garnered Rick an appearance on “Oprah.”

Yes, I’ve seen the movie.  No, I’m not in it, but some of my good friends are.

After a year and a half, I was lucky enough to get hired as the sports reporter for KTVB-TV, in Boise, Idaho, a fantastic station to this day.  Everyone else eventually moved on as well, though many of them are out of the business now.  Sort of strange that their boss doing hard-core drugs could give them such a negative perception of the broadcasting business.  And Amy hasn't induced intestine-damaging vomit from me in over a decade. 

Still, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.  Not only did I meet great people like Sten, but I definitely developed an appreciation for the good things in my life.  Yeah, I get frustrated like anyone else, and I know I’m sounding hokey, but I hope everyone can take a step back—even if just for a few moments—and count their blessings this time of year.

Speaking of blessings, I’m happy to say that KTEN appears to be a much, much better station these days, and even Rick appears to be clean and sober.  I don’t wish him any ill will, but I can’t say that I miss him, either.

I just hope Hank’s okay.