The MLL Popularity Contest
By Dan Freshman
If the MLL were like “Mean Girls,” Brian Dougherty would be the sassy overweight kid who wears nail polish. Brian Langtry would be the creepy gym teacher. Spencer Ford would be the chick in the wheel chair.
But who would be the popular girls?
The All-Star hangover is long done—but the ensuing popularity contest isn’t. It’s so compelling that I’ve finally given into the Twitter fad as well (www.twitter.com/danfreshman —follow me so I can extend my 15 minutes of fame!). Meanwhile, the rest of the MLL big shots are dueling it out via philanthropy wars, to prove which fans would pay the most to wallow in their dirty laundry—all for charity!
That’s right: for the past three weeks, you’ve been able to wager your paycheck to see which of your favorite stars has the best body odor. I bet Paul Rabil’s smells like roses and Chipotle! A tip to fans: Rabil currently rocks “overflow.” That mane of manliness must get quite hot and bothered during a 60-minute game. If you prefer cleanliness over style, I’d go for anti-flow like Joe Walters. It may even smell like upstate New York Vietnamese food! Mmm. Diarrhea.
Nevertheless, what determines popularity in this niche league of a niche sport? As evident from the auction prices, it isn’t simply about the best player. It isn’t even about the flashiest player. And it isn’t about the player best with fans as well. The MLL popularity contest is so confounding, it appears impossible to create an instant formula for fan boy stardom.
For example, Lee Zink is having arguably the best season of any close defender in the league. His jersey’s stuck at the minimum bid. Kyle Harrison has two full equipment lines built in his cue balled image, yet his jersey costs just $25 more. Nicky Polanco brings disabled children to MLL sidelines as often as Quint gets mani/pedi’s. No player has been as recognizable as Nicky P since the league’s inception. But like Harrison, his jersey stands with just two bids.
The real secret for social success? The same reason why Rachel McAdams, Lacey Chabert and Amanda Seyfried ran the show. Their big, voluptuous, irresistible…
Hair.
Still, there stands one exception. The priciest jersey on the market? Easily the least athletic guy on the field in Denver. Anthony Kelly? Jesse Schwartzman? Try the guy with his own Häagen-Dazs. Alex “Twitchy Hands” Smith leads all players with an $1100 jersey. What’s his secret, other than a high butterfat content?
Smith comes from a devoted close circle of friends. They watched him grow up from Boys Latin to Delaware. They clamor at his sticky toffee pudding. Smith is like the kid at the end of the movie where everyone is happy and no cliques exist, regardless of appearance or social stature. He’s that hot brunette who miraculously spoke fluent Korean two weeks later.
He’s nestled himself into the niche upon all niches, residing as the top specialist in the world. The highest bidders are likely people Smith knows. More than any other player, Smith has cashed in on the company of his closest friends—particularly when they boycotted a certain lacrosse web site when one of their photographers snatched this implicating shot. Meanwhile, how many people are backing up Big Papi and Manny when people found out they cheated? FOGOs stick together. Smith’s close friends with big wallets is merely aberration.
The next-highest jersey is no surprise. The only surprise is that his jersey isn’t in the lead. The Cannons media guide says he goes by nicknames Pauly and Rabes. The guy I write about WAY too much every week. In fact, I’ve already written about him in this column. Now, he subsequently slaps me in the butt whenever I see him. In case you didn’t know, Paul Rabil has built the biggest lacrosse name since the Powells—and there’s only one of him.
Regardless, Rabil never won a Tewaaraton Trophy. He wasn’t the Rookie of the Year last season. Kyle Dixon is objectively a better shooter, Brodie Merrill a more valuable player. He isn’t even signed to one of the five major equipment manufacturers.
So what’s Rabil’s biggest asset to his phenom? It’s also what amounts to 90 percent of lacrosse. Sarcasm aside—his flow. Looks may not make the player, but in the MLL, they apparently define him.
As I was stuck in purgatory the last two weeks, coaching suburban Boston youth lacrosse delinquents, who was the most recognizable player, beyond Rabil? Not Sean Morris, the local product and leading assist-getter in lacrosse. Not Chris Passavia, team captain and resident scary jacked Italian guy with a large metal stick. The biggest face on the Cannons, to these youth players, isn’t among the top ten in scoring for the Cannons.
But he does have some sick dreadlocks.
Johnny X. Johnny Hanukkah. Johnny Ramadan. Johnny Kwanza. Johnny Christmas. X-mas hasn’t had an all-star caliber season in two years—which, to some of these youth players, amounts to a third of their lives. He’s not particularly close with Boston fans, residing in Philadelphia during the week. His style of play isn’t memorable, save one Hail Mary buzzer beater goal last season. Nevertheless, Santa Johnny remains the most recognizable lacrosse player in Boston, simply for his #1 jersey and Rastafarian flow.
Similarly, Rabil has gained the same notoriety, becoming the quintessential poster boy for the flow fad. Youth coaches—how many swim moves did you have to cringe at before Rabil became a household name? How many more 99 jerseys have you seen during club lacrosse games? As long as Rabil looks and plays the way he did, he could sell herpes and make it popular. Combine his style with the viral empire he’s built—a media site, a blog, an active Twitter page, a 5,000 fan Facebook account, dozens of YouTube videos, even LaxUnited video blogs—Rabil’s look has become as synonymous as his on-field accolades.
In comparison, Merrick Thomson and Kevin Leveille are having just as productive seasons as PR99. But Thomson’s Canadian and Leveille, admittedly, has junk in the trunk. To boot, Leveille is a more exciting player to watch. But he doesn’t have flow, or the bone structure of a poor man’s Adonis.
Yes—Rabil is truly the king of the plastics. Big boobs, big attitude, big hair? Just big hair.
Along the same lines, the next-priciest jersey is…the default Young Guns one. Okay, I don’t get it. Collectively, maybe they all have great flow?
Old school laxers, cover your ears: style counts. Style is boosting charity dollars as we speak. But it still doesn’t mean you need to look like this.
Ahoy.
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