What happened on the mound during Saturday evening's National League playoff game between the Philadelphia Phillies and San Francisco Giants was a minor tragedy.
It was the 8th inning. A burly and intimidating Brian Wilson took the rosin bag. His performance didn't concern me. He was stellar. A 96-mile-per-hour fastball struck down the final four outs of the game. It was an exemplary performance for a closing pitcher - Mo Rivera territory - but something much more important was amiss: the state of his facial hair.
I sat watching the last two innings, as Brian Wilson dominated hitters, and couldn't get my mind off his prominent beard. It was long. It was heavy. A suspiciously dark hue. Something was off here. It was very neatly trimmed - manicured like the topiary on the Todt Hill estate.
It was just too damn pretty for baseball.
I consider myself a baseball purist. Not in the sense of designated hitters and dome stadiums -- these have been around since before my time. But there is a storied tradition of relief pitchers and facial hair. They somehow manage to sign a multi-million dollar contract and still look like the guy who changes your oil.
It was the 8th inning. A burly and intimidating Brian Wilson took the rosin bag. His performance didn't concern me. He was stellar. A 96-mile-per-hour fastball struck down the final four outs of the game. It was an exemplary performance for a closing pitcher - Mo Rivera territory - but something much more important was amiss: the state of his facial hair.
I sat watching the last two innings, as Brian Wilson dominated hitters, and couldn't get my mind off his prominent beard. It was long. It was heavy. A suspiciously dark hue. Something was off here. It was very neatly trimmed - manicured like the topiary on the Todt Hill estate.
It was just too damn pretty for baseball.
I consider myself a baseball purist. Not in the sense of designated hitters and dome stadiums -- these have been around since before my time. But there is a storied tradition of relief pitchers and facial hair. They somehow manage to sign a multi-million dollar contract and still look like the guy who changes your oil.




