Say it ain't so, Johnny. Say it ain't so.
It was bad enough, Johnny, that you jumped ship from the
legendarily accursed Boston Red Sox to that team's millennia-long
rival, the New York Yankees. But the Faustian part of your bargain
was in taking the razor to your beard.
How could you?
You see that guy at the top of this column? Yeah. That guy. With
Go ahead, just take a pen out of your fancy-shmancy New York
Yankees carry-on bag and rip it through his face, why don't ya?
Guys with beards have feelings, too, Johnny. You know how many of
us bearded guys are out there? I mean, not counting the ones in the
hills? That's right, not many.
You were a hero. With your hair hanging down to your shoulders and
your beard as bushy as the Berkshires, you stood apart. Guys in
baseball do not look like that. They look like what you look like
Oh, there is the tasteful goatee here and there. To which I say,
"Ptouie." Which is a sound I know you know well, it being the sound
of spitting, which is what baseball players do all the time. What's
up with that, anyway?
But we're not here to talk about spitting. We're here to talk about
That's right: In one fell shave, you returned us to the Golden Age
of Conformity. We had been sensing its coming for a while now.
Things just didn't feel as freewheeling as they used to.
As if to confirm it, here, now, is your clean-shaven face. You know
what happened after you shaved? The Florida Marlins manager said
that he wants to see no facial hair whatsoever on his players - no
goatees, no mustaches, no beards, no nothing.
Happy about what you started?
Yes, yes, yes, I know you've shaved your beard off before. But that
was for charity. This? This is for
the New York Ya
I can't even