Larry Bird, despite perhaps the worst mustache in history, an admittedly very competitive category, had flavor. 

Between being the GOAT trashtalker despite being a rural whiteboy, the “I’m going to leave my warm-up top on and still win the 3 Point Shootout” in 1988, and the fact that despite growing up a hayseed’s hayseed in tiny French Lick, IN, having one of the illest, city-ready all-around games in the history of the NBA (and the fact that his career was derailed by a back injury that he suffered when attempting to pave his own driveway during one ill-fated offseason) my man basically defines the concept. 

Not to mention this ridiculously ill poster, the best, in my opinion, of another very competitive category: 80s sports posters. Due respect to The Hit Man, The Doctor, Iceman, The Ball Player, among countless others (more in a later post. In what was truly a golden era of sports marketing, this is my Holy Grail.

And luckily for me, I own it (photo is of the actual poster). Thank you eBay, 10 years ago.

In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, and the messiah of my Boston-area childhood, a truly unique genius, stylish in spite of himself: Larry Joe.