Brian Burke's five-year rebuild that wasn't supposed to take five years is taking longer than expected.

The last time the Toronto Maple Leafs rebuilt, it was quick and almost painless. The team missed the playoffs only twice—in 1997 and 1998—but would become a post-season mainstay for the next six years.

But that mid-90s rebuild did not happen in one fell swoop—the three biggest trades actually occurred over a five-year period—and could be better characterized as a slow core replacement, rather than a fire-sale.

After bowing out of back-to-back conference finals, the Leafs began a process of turning their three most important players—Doug Gilmour, Wendel Clark, and Felix Potvin—into what should have been a strong group to build around in the future.

In Wendel Clark's case the return was overwhelming, but the players that came back in other trades were bungled away.

The Leafs still became a perennial contender in the late-90s and early-2000s, largely thanks to successful plunges into free agency, but poor asset management and pure, dumb luck ruined the rest of what should have been an overwhelmingly successful rebuild.

Athletes are a strange breed. Routine and superstition bordering on OCD rules many. Some routines are as innocuous as eating the same meal every game day, while others are as odorous and disgusting as peeing on your own hands (yes, I’m talking about you Jorge Posada). Allegedly, Jorge pees on his hands to toughen them up and that's why he doesn't need to wear batting gloves.

During the playoffs, when a player’s season is on the line, superstitions and rituals often become more rigid. No one wants to lose the Stanley Cup because they didn’t wear their lucky underwear.

The most widespread playoff tradition in hockey is the playoff beard. Players stop shaving when their teams enter the playoffs and don’t shave until it's all over - whether that be elimination or Stanley Cup victory.

Some players, like Henrik Zetterberg, grow their beard and keep it year round, deciding to emulate their Viking ancestors with a magnificent mane. I’m going to say that Zetterberg does this because he plays like every game is a playoff game. Go with it.

The originators of the playoff beard are widely credited as being the New York Islanders in the 1980s. Although, the tradition might be a little older than that. Dave Lewis said the tradition actually started during the Islanders’ playoff run in 1975, which was the first time the team made the post-season.

"I recall that playoff beards were an important part of every playoff we were in," Lewis said. "Part of the rationale was that it was a symbol that this was a different time, separate from the regular season. It was the championship season. It was also part of the unity of our team and I think we thought we probably looked a little more rugged with beards. (via NHL.com)

The Islanders grew out their beards and won four consecutive Stanley Cups. Was it the power of the beards or was it just the product of having multiple future Hall of Famers like Bryan Trottier? I'll go with beards.

However, the playoff beard tradition did not catch on until the 90s. The Edmonton Oilers did not grow out beards as a team, nor did the Montreal Canadiens or Calgary Flames (the other Stanley Cup winners of the 80s).

The 1994 New York Rangers notably refused to grow playoff beards because it was started by the rival Islanders. You can’t support your rivals, even if it means looking like a badass.

The tradition seemed to resume with the New Jersey Devils in 1995 and teams have embraced it on a wider scale ever since.

Some see the playoff beard as a silly superstition that operates at a minimal 6.25% efficiency (only 1 of 16 playoff teams will lift Lord Stanley’s mug), but I like to think of it more as an act of solidarity and camaraderie. These are the men you’re going to battle with every night and it’s an easy way to feel connected to each other.

In 2003, J.S. Giguere stated that both he and his wife hated his playoff beard, which was thicker than a Northern Ontario forest, but he did it for the team.

Of course, not all beards are created equal. For every J.S. Giguere, there is a Sidney Crosby. Poor Sid grew a wispy moustache envied by every 12-year-old male across the country. But you have to give credit to Crosby for sticking with his teammates, despite looking like a Quebecois smut peddler.

In honour of the best playoff beards this post-season I present the first annual Wendel Clark All-Stars.

Today is the first in what could become a series of guest posts by friends of ours. Don't take it as a sign that we're getting lazy around here. Today we'd like to introduce our good friend, Ted Rigby, speaking about an issue very near to our hearts.