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One benefit of the Jerry Era is that beards are back. Oliver Perez looks like he's growing a real one and not that dotted-line thing; Show looks like Grizzly Jr. and even Pelfrey is losing his babyfacedness behind 4 days of shaggy sideburns.
Brings to mind Bunt the First Two's famous poem of 2006:
How I love my Mets Beard
Which grows out of my face
It takes us through the playoffs
Since we came in firstest place
But my woman says I'm prickly
Too roughened now to kiss
"But that's my Mets Beard, Baby
Makes Nomar swing and miss"
I'll ever love you, Mets Beard
You understand me well
For the mystic ways you help my team
No human tongue can tell
But my boss says I look grubby
A vagrant and a slob
I tell them of the base hits
My beard helped Shawn Green rob
Let them hate us, Mets Beard
For you I give a shout
As I listen to the Mets win
As my desk I'm cleaning out
But my kids say that I'm scary
That I don't look like Dad
Perhaps more like Pat Zachry
But how could that be bad?
But you'll not leave me, Mets Beard
Though others turn away
You power lends precision
To each Reyes double play
And each double hit by Beltran
Wright's bat and Glavine's arm
You send the Mets your power
And send the rivals harm
So be my wife, sweet Mets Beard
Be my job and child
Be my raison d'etre
Make my visage wild
Somehow, someway we matter
When the Mets are winning games
Floyd, Martinez, Valentin
And the other hallowed names
And when at last I shave you
With the pennant on the wall
I'll have naught left there with me
To share this awesome fall
I'll return you to the cosmos
Your power to dispense
Of mighty magic strikeouts
And balls hit o'er the fence
I'll restart my life clean-shaven
No job or family, true
But I'll wear the hat of champions
Of Metly royal blue
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