Kyle Orton used to be a rather terrifying figure for me. I never considered him that great of a player, he was always one marred by inconsistencies in his ability to make plays. But he always had that beard of his. That scraggly, uneven and actually rather weak excuse for a beard said a lot about the guy, to me. There are legions of neckbeards out there right now, perhaps playing World of Warcraft or masquerading as an actual writer by writing for free for an SB Nation blog about the state of beardery in quarterbacking, but Kyle Orton's neckbeard was special.
It wasn't borne of laziness or general lack of ability to groom himself. It was Orton standing and defiantly saying "I am woman, hear me roar," or something equally as inspiring. He lacks the, how you say, testicular fortitude with which to grow facial hair of respectable density and length. It makes him come off as, one might claim, "a girlie man."
But oh boy was I terrified of him. Because Kyle Orton, despite his obvious inability to sprout admirable hairs on his face, went out there week in and week out with that and let everyone know that he, Kyle Orton, had a [site decorum] beard. He still exuded the "grisly guy with the beard," quality because he made sure everyone knew that's what he was going for. The confidence and swagger this small, frail, pasty individual exudes is the exact opposite of what one would expect him to. He defies perception.
I don't really know what I'm on about. But I felt like talking a bit about Kyle Orton. Or rather, who he used to be. The beard isn't really there anymore, so now we have nothing to fear. I mean, he's not even a very good quarterback. Definitely can't stack up to who the 49ers have ... playing ... ah ... well, damnit.