Sunday, April 26, 2015
Posted by el duque at 5:38 AM
At last, we are joining the new Millennium.
A courageous group of 2015 Yankees is actually joining the modern era and testing the limits of human rights. They are attempting to grow adult mustaches, and by the reaction from the media, you would think Nelson Mandela was penning verses of poetry from the cages of Robben Island. This for a fashion statement that, technically, was never been banned by the baby-faced Yankee overlords.
Three years ago, the beard craze swept through MLB - remember the Redsocks, before the collapse? - yet the Yankees kept their noses follicle-free, preferring to look - and play like dorky Explorer Scouts.
At last, maybe they're showing spine. Or sprig.
I recognize that many of you support the Yankee ban on facial hair. You want Yankees to look like Rhea Perlman. Trouble is, they hit like Rhea Perlman. It's long overdue for the Evils to field a lineup that actually looks a bit evil - I'm talking about grungy, muskrat-chinned boils of testosterone.
It's time for handlebars and push-brooms, Fu-Manchoos and walruses, (coo-coo-cachoo.) No pennant was ever won in the shaving mirror.
Today, Brett Gardner's face furniture is the Jackie Robinson of Yankee upper-lips. Gardy is going bardy. Teixeira is sending a tress message. Who knows... we might even see a shave bomb... from A-Rod.
Let my people grow.