People who know me know that I have a propensity to choose weird “favorites.” Just a few examples would be if you want to be my favorite golfer, well you better be fat and have a beard (i.e. Beef Johnston and Shane Lowery). If you want to be my favorite animal, you better be a sloth, favorite sushi place, you better be in Syracuse, NY, favorite car, ’89 Volvo. I have unique taste to say the least and, well, let’s add another one to the list. Mark Davis, congrats. You are not only now my favorite NFL owner, you are straight up my favorite person in the world.


I did know too much about the Oakland Raiders owner. I knew he had an amazingly horrible haircut that almost seemed to bad to be for real. But today I learned a little more about this American hero. Reading the first paragraph of an article from ESPN’s Tim Keown, I learned… well, I’ll just let you guys read it:

“Most days start the same — behind the wheel of a white 1997 Dodge Caravan SE outfitted with a bubble-top Mark III conversion kit, a VHS player mounted to the roof inside and a r8hers personalized plate. Mark Davis pilots this machine from his East Bay home to the nearest P.F. Chang’s, where he sits at the left end of the bar, same spot every time, puts his white fanny pack on the counter, orders an iced tea and unfolds the day’s newspapers. Beside him on the bar, next to the papers, is his 2003 Nokia push-button phone with full texting capability. When someone calls and asks him where he is, he says, “I’m in my office,” and sends a knowing nod to the bartenders. It gets ’em every time.”

What? Are you kidding me with this? If this one paragraph doesn’t make Mark Davis your favorite person on the planet then you are an idiot. Everything about this guys is magical. It’s what I strive to achieve in life. This guy owns an NFL franchise and drives a car from a different millennia. It gets better though people. That iconic haircut of his, he travels almost 3 hours to get it! He has gone to the same barber since college and distance doesn’t seem to be a problem for him. Again we go back to Mr. Keown because of his poetic phrasing of what a friend thinks of Davis’ hair,


“So, about the hair. It’s a bowl cut, yes, in the Roman centurion mold, but it’s much, much more. The reddish-blond bangs, each strand the exact same length, the geometrically precise feathering over the ears — not so much a haircut as a feat of engineering.”

And Davis doesn’t care. He has been told every day of his life that is hair is stupid and he pretty much spits in the worlds face and says, “Fuck you, this is how like it!” This guy. This fucking guy. He is my hero. Balls like that don’t come around too often and especially when you are in the public spotlight. You have to respect that.

Caps off to you Mr. Davis. Keep on giving the world the middle finger.