The Bald Man Comes Home, Again

It’s rare in life that after 34 years, a trivial task can become monumental. And yet there I was, razor in hand, nervous for what lay before me, or rather, above me.

There are two things Roushes are known for: BS and hairless heads. My father became follically challenged just before he asked my mother to marry him in his early 30s. I was not a fortunate son. By 26, it was time to bust out the clippers and break out the buzzcut.

Most men spend years resisting the urge to Come Home. A man’s hair can be intrinsically tied to one’s sense of self. My sense of self is tied strongly to a lack of… care (Yes, that’s the four-letter word I want to use). I’m going to be who I’m going to be, regardless of another’s opinion. Might as well steer into the skid.

For years, I embraced being the Bald Man. No self-deprecating joke was off the table. The “Nick Roush Burr” is offered at a friend’s barbershop. Not even Mark Stoops was safe from the poking and prodding, because after all, only one Bald Man can let another know when it’s time to Come Home.

But was I being true to myself? Were all of the bald jokes just a front, a way to cope? Was I even a real and true Bald Man?

These existential questions were inspired by a conversation between the two most prominent Bald Men in sports media. Scott Van Pelt and Stanford Steve know ball(d). Shortly after another colleague, Will Compton, was forced to pay up on a bet by busting out the razor and shaving his head, the two offered some advice on SVPod.

A bald-headed man crash course for @_willcompton 👨🏻‍🦲 pic.twitter.com/x1Pfp6Sj1T

— SVPod (@_SVPod) September 24, 2025

Like Saul on the road to Damascus, I had seen the light, and it was reflecting off two scalps. It was time to take the next step.

Ditching the clippers for a razor sounds simple enough, but is it really? After using electronic razors for years, I stepped into the aisle of my local Kroger and found myself at a loss in the maze of blades, creams, gels, and lotions. That was only amplified when I spotted a product designed specifically for shaving one’s head.

It was overwhelming. Was I really ready to take the next step toward Home?

That’s when I remembered who I was. I’m Nick Roush. I live my life without any… cares. Who needs the fancy schmancy razor? Bust out the freaking disposables and let’s go!

That internal monologue was filled with hype at the checkout line of the grocery store. It was a much different story when it was time to step into the shower and stick a blade to my head.

Could I still do it? I couldn’t remember the last time I shaved my face with a razor. Now I’m sticking it on my head? Do you know how many lumps have been put in there over the years from hits on the gridiron and elbows from siblings? It’s one thing to hit a bump in the yard with a lawnmower. Taking a chunk out of your scalp? That’s terrifying, especially during spooky season.

That’s when my years of experience with Coach-Speak kicked in. Don’t overthink, just react.

In the blink of an eye, my head was covered with shave gel, razor in hand, and I gave it a shhhhwitck.

Boom. One stripe down. Hey, that was easy.

shhhhwitck shhhhwitck shhhhwitck

Okay, now we’re cooking with grease. This wasn’t so bad after all. We’re rocking and rolling and oh my God, did I miss a spot?

Rather than methodically taking one stripe at a time, I got lost in the shhhhwitck. There I was, with a razor on the back of my head, wondering where I started and how the hell I got there. A moment of panic set in, then I realized, ‘You can just do it again.’

Botta boom, botta bang, we were back in business. I remembered SVP’s most important tip, bend back the ears. We were leaving no spot untouched, well, except for one. It was time to reach the back left corner of my head. It’s a blind spot, one that requires a southpaw to execute to perfection. Was there enough coordination to use the left and reach the contours of this lumpy head? It felt unnatural, but by God, it felt good.

I reached the finish line. The nerves were replaced with pride. I did it. I took the next step. Finally, the Bald Man Came all the way Home, and it felt silky smooth.

If you’re one who’s considering taking the leap, remember one thing: God made a few beautiful heads. The rest he put hair on.

Ready to join a community that will embrace you? You don’t have to be a Bald Man to connect with the best of Big Blue Nation on KSR Plus.