J.J. Putz

New York Mets eighth-inning guy J.J. Putz was ostensibly brought in to shore up the team's swiss-cheese bullpen, which arguably cost them the division last year. But his contribution to the team's shitty facial hair factor can't be denied.

Like most major leaguers, Putz came up from the minors clean-shaven. What is it about the big leagues that inspires so many errors in shaving judgment?

Trouble began almost immediately, as success went right to Little J.J.'s head... and chin. Before you could say "two bits", the Putzter had cultivated a strange orange triangle below his mouth. To distract and confuse opposing batters, perhaps?

The Mariners organisation not only tolerated J.J.'s newfound grooming habits, they even went so far as to embrace and encourage them! On 12 April 2008, the team hosted "J.J. Putz Soul Patch Night", giving away stick-on tumbleweeds of orange lint to the first 20,000 suckers to walk through their gates. As though there were something soulful about walking around with a vagina stuck to one's face.

J.J. was surely flattered by the gesture, but not flattered enough to turn down New York money when the Mets came calling in the offseason. At his introductory press conference, he promised to solidify the Mets' bullpen by teaching the other relievers to miss large patches of their faces when shaving. And for the most part, he has fulfilled that promise whenever the Mets are not playing the Marlins.

J.J. celebrated his riches with his decision to keep his fiery little trademark for the duration of the World Baseball Classic, thus embarrassing the United States on the world stage for all to see.

That's OK, J.J.! No one watches the WBC anyway! All is forgiven.

Scott Eyre

Submitted for your consideration: Philadelphia Phillies LOOGY Scott Eyre, he of the 10.80 ERA, he of the four walks issued thus far in 3.1 innings of work, the man responsible for turning Jamie Moyer's hard-earned W yesterday into a ND by pegging Carlos Beltran in the foot. Why, you may ask, does Mr. Eyre look as though he ought to be scrubbing the hard-to-reach corners of crusted cooking pots in the back of a restaurant somewhere with his face?

It wasn't always this way. As a young pup, little Scotty eagerly worked his way up to the Rangers with a smooth visage that perfectly complemented his can-do spirit.

Our troubles began in San Francisco, where Scotty seems to have first misplaced the ol' Mach 3. This is also where he appears to have stopped missing meals, and the two may be related. Are we hiding our second chin behind a forest of face-pubes, Scotty?

It was during his two-year sojourn to the north side of Chicago that someone finally reached out. Wise and benevolent Lou Piniella took our Scotty under his wing and attempted to talk him out of his deepening spiral of facial shame. "We can help you, Scotty," intoned the soothing voice of Sweet Lou. "It's never too late to start over. And maybe take a pass on dessert now and then."

Alas, the problem only worsened. Aware of the mounting horrors beneath his lower lip, Scotty took to hiding his chin behind his mitt, denying to those around him that he had a problem. Friends, teammates, loved ones looked into his glazed, skittering eyes and knew otherwise.

Which brings us to today's sorry state. The beard sprouts ever thicker, the tangled mass shows no remorse, and Scotty stands alone upon the mound, his cry for help there for all to see.

Scott Eyre: the goatee that inspired a blog.