Not a lot to say about our boys this morning — David Wright is today's
obligatory mass profile (nice kid, drinks milk, works hard), with the
occasional side trip to see how Matt Ginter's shave went. (Randolph
says Ginter now looks cute. Really.) Chris Woodward's wife of five
years has supposedly never seen him without facial hair, so if she's in
St. Lucie, yesterday probably cemented her opinion of Willie Randolph
one way or the other.
Shave Day vaguely reminds me of a season in the late 80s or early 90s
in which the team pulled one of those “We're not shaving till we lose”
rallies. (Whatever year it was, it didn't work.) I seem to remember
Jeff Musselman sheepishly admitting that he couldn't grow a beard
anyway, and David Cone losing a fight with his significant other and
being forced to shave his off for a wedding. And that was largely
before the era of bleach-blond tips and other wretched things players
now do to their hair. (Exhibit A: Bronson Arroyo's fantastically
ridiculous cornrows.) I've always assumed they do their blond tips
themselves with a Clairol kit, pulling little locks of each other's
hair through the holes in the plastic cap and wearing plastic gloves.
Strangely enough, this always gets left out of the team highlight
video. (Obligatory reference to Piazza's ash-blond makeover in Chicago,
which of course sparked Todd Zeile's immortal quote that “this is the
kind of loss that makes you go right to the hair salon.” I miss Zeile.
Miss his quotes, I mean.)
I wonder how Don Bosch's
obligatory mass profiles went. You'll remember Bosch was supposed to be
the next Willie Mays, but the player who showed up in camp in '67 was
short, had gray hair at 24 and ulcers. Wes Westrum's reaction: “My God,
they sent me a midget.”
Bosch hit .157 for us in half a season's worth of at-bats.
(There's an obvious question here, isn't there?) Yet we somehow we
turned him into Don Cardwell. Good trick. Blond tips could only have
helped him.
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