If any of you hairy readers still use the very 20th century device of a razor to shave, then you must have heard of the company Gillette. Of course, I completely understand that you might not use it, since the very advanced and modern electric shaver, brought to you in India by a Dutch company for which some of us work, (cough cough) serves the purpose much more efficiently.
So what’s happening to Gillette? One of the hottest topics of conversation in the internet currently is the “Gillette Curse”. The company has three global brand ambassadors – Messrs. Woods, Federer and Henry. They are all very famous men in their particular fields. This Woods fellow is famous for owning a collection of secluded islands all over the Pacific Ocean with large mansions containing young female housekeepers, Henry is a star of the World Cup & Olympic gold winning French Handball team, and Federer is known for his enviable collection of cool jackets.
Tiger Woods’ property deals have created quite a sensational controversy recently, as we all know. His wife, a former blonde Swedish model (still Swedish and still blonde, no longer a model) turned livid and looked less like a former model as she came to know about her husband’s island acquisitions with their charming housekeepers and was later found hovering over an unconscious Tiger with one of his golf clubs. Allegedly. One wonders whether she is one of those women who does not like having housekeepers.
As more and more housekeepers started coming out of the ‘wood’work, the author’s respect for Tiger’s commendable stamina grew substantially – until it was found that he (Tiger, not the author) endorses the energy drink Gatorade. Later, in an exemplary act of social responsibility, Gatorade cancelled their deal and left Tiger much less energetic and substantially harmless. The author applauds.
Imagine – Endorsing a dozen brands, cavorting with a dozen housekeepers, flying all over the world, spending time with wife and two children! Oh, and he also plays decent Golf. This fellow is the Superman, no doubt.
There is yet another luminary who had had his marital breakup a year ago. This gentleman, Thierry Henry (pronunciation akin to ‘Laundry’), was once upon a time a football player. A famous one actually, and he used to play for a club called FC Gooners where he was the superstar!, numero uno player!, dribbling maestro!….OK, I should probably curb my enthusiasm for the game since this is not a football blog.
Anyway, this fellow used to love his club so much that he never bothered much about those silly little international matches which happened in between. One morning, when his wife reminded him of his country playing Senegal later that day in the opening match of World Cup ’02, Henry decided to turn up and run around the ground a few times for 90 minutes. Needless to say, France lost the match. Senegal went on to have a marvelous tournament although this World Cup was marred by fixed matches to favour the Kore…[Enthusiasm curbed just in time]
Later in his career, when he wanted a new challenge (actually, when he became shit), Henry moved to a club called Take it from the Bar, dude (In Hindi, Bar Se Lona!) in Spain. This club was full of superstars including a buck-toothed horse and a little Argentinian with a thick neck (lately they have signed a Camel as well), that they really didn’t care whether Henry was shit or not.
That’s when Henry switched to Handball and led his country to the World Cup and Olympic Gold. Due to his mildly backward intelligence though (he used to head footballs, remember?), Henry got his two sports somewhat mixed up and played a bit of handball in a recent football world cup qualifier, which led to much unwanted criticism around the football world (“Its a fukkin’ disgrace!”, said a Chelsea player), but much enthusiasm and shouts of “That’s our boy!” in the handball fraternity.
Now is the time to introduce this Gillette Curse which we had briefly touched upon in the beginning. After paying them a truckload of money to act in a series of ads titled ‘Gillette Champions’ (Woods later used his share to buy an island off the coast of France, for housekeeper # 24), the company released a picture of the three Champions standing side by side, holding onto their Instruments of Championness – Federer’s Racquet, Tiger’s wood Golf club and Henry’s Football.
When Henry unexpectedly confused his sport though, the company’s marketing executives did a rapid firefighting exercise. They took his instrument away from Henry – see for yourself in this ‘before and after’ picture.
Later of course, after his housekeepers around the world revealed that the entire world was quite clueless about Tiger’s real talent (Can you say this fast without stopping? – “How many chicks does a woodchuck chuck?”), the second blow fell on Gillette, this time a bit stronger. “Now what!”, rang the cry in the Marketing department of Gillette Global. A bearded temp suggested a further modification to the ad, but this was immediately vetoed by a cleanshaven colleague. This chap advocated a ‘wait and watch’ strategy, as he had started believing in the curse and expected a further change to be necessitated in the near future.
Which brings us to Federer. Look at the above picture closely, dear readers. You see Henry holding a ball – and a ball was the cause of his worries. You see Tiger with a golf club – a clubwielding wife started his problems. Move slightly to your left, pause for cinematic effect, slowly build up the Star Wars music in your head to a crescendo, and look at Federer. Yes, he is carrying something. In his right hand. A tennis racquet. Clasped to his chest. If Henry’s ball and Tiger’s golf club could turn against him in such rapid succession, what lies in store for Fedex and his Racquet? One needs to speculate.
It might happen that in one of those close matches which this fellow keeps having with that Spanish boy in long bermudas, Federer might lose his temper after a bad call by the umpire or something akin. Anger can lead men to do silly things, and our Swiss Champion might stick his racqet, grip first into someone’s nether region. Always a risk.
This man has often been referred to as a ‘Wizard’, a ‘Magician’, a “Sorcerer’ and what not. His elegance and grace have reduced millions of viewers into stunned silence as he dismantled the aforementioned Spanish boy, Serbian witches and all sorts of such assorted creatures. This leads me to conclude that he really is (by the tenets of Holmesification, as mentioned in an earlier post) a wizard, and his racquet really a broom. On the spur of the moment, if he chooses to board his racquet and fly all over the place, Avada Kedavraing random people, Gillette might really suffer a death blow.
Or God forbid, Fed might one fine day get terribly depressed of being the best player in the world for so long and hang himself by his racquet strings.
As can be seen, there is every reason for Gillette to be worried about Federer’s fate. Last I heard, they had isolated him in a remote island in the Pacific Ocean (leased to them by Tiger’s housekeeper # 31), and taken all his racquets away from him. To pacify Roger who looked ready to throw a tantrum, they gave him a nifty sword and he has been pretending to be King Arthur ever since.