It is weird how people's perception of me has changed over the last few months. I used to think being the "Tigers guy" was destined to be my legacy, which I would've been OK with. There are worse things to be known for. Still, now I'm pretty sure that if I died tomorrow, the headline would read, "Chris Castellani, hater of movie theaters with that weird shit under his eyes, died today in a freak accident involving a dispute over assigned seating at his local multiplex." I've been making content on the internet since I was 12 years old, and I never once thought that people tuned into my videos because of my rugged good looks and haunting brown eyes. Some people need to keep up appearances. I always figured I was a person that didn't. But out of every 100 comments I get, approximately 127 are about my eyes. I need to show my hand here. I don't think we can move on as a nation without an explanation.
I've often gotten criticized for never explaining what's going on in my eyes, but I have. I've described it often. I've explained it in videos, tweets, and on live streams. I've been open about it. But now I'm just going to put it all out there in a blog, so I can link to it whenever somebody asks this question. I really don't like being a pest. Some people love doing the heel shit. I can't do that. I wouldn't say I like bothering people. I'd be better at my job if I did. But it's obvious that my face bothers people and will continue to. By all means, keep taking your shots. I'm dead serious. I REALLY don't like being treated differently for being different. It makes you feel more isolated. You can't work at Barstool and expect that people aren't going to point out your mistakes/flaws daily. The last thing I want is a cease-fire, but it looks weird, so I'll explain it.
First off, I've never been to a fucking tanning bed in my life. I'm kind of terrified of them. Also, I'm Italian. I don't need a tan. But what I have is something called Vitiligo. Vitiligo is, according to the Mayo clinic, "A disease that causes loss of skin color in patches." as of now, I only have it under my eyes and on the back of one of my knees, but I'm sure as I get older, it'll pop up in other areas. There's no cure for it. There are treatments, and some people have recommended a few to me. I'm indifferent about it right now. What's the point? Eventually, you have to accept that you look the way you look. Maybe I don't need to adjust. Perhaps the rest of the world does. I tried looking into what causes Vitiligo (Once again, thank you, Mayo Clinic). The two things that came up were family history. There is zero history of Vitiligo in my family. I have no friends or family who have it. I didn't know that it was a thing that existed until a few years ago when there was a very nice woman who used to be a customer at the gas station I worked at. She was the first person I'd ever come across who had it. The other main cause was "A trigger event, such as stress." This makes me want to punch a wall. Because none of this shit would've happened if I could just fucking calm down. I didn't realize nervous energy was a detriment to my physical appearance.
Look, man, this is the Barstool life. Some people work here long enough; their hair goes gray, they gain or lose weight, they have kids. That's the timetable here. I feel like many people start off squeaky clean here, but over time, you provide enough ammunition for people to make fun of you. Honestly, I'm proud that I've been working here long enough that people have found enough material to rip me for. I never liked the wholesome persona. It wasn't real. And God knows I haven't done myself any fucking favors. I'll poke fun at it. You have to if you want to stay upright. Trust me; I've been through a lot worse. Despite my writing this blog, I'm confident I will probably get asked about it 5 to 10 more times by the end of the day, but you can't be a pussy. At least I got out in front of this one. All right, we can move on with our lives.