Brian Wilson should be back on the bump for the Giants sometime this week, and gosh, it's like he never left. Wilson has been Mr. Ubiquitous this winter and spring, so much so that I worry about him jumping the shark. There was plenty of discussion on this very topic around the time of the "sea captain" appearance on George Lopez's show, and that was before the Charlie Sheen association. Wilson can't stop a hollowed-out goon like Sheen with access to streaming media tools from waxing on about his favorite fireballer, but did B-Weez really have to accept the guy's invitation to help consult on the next "Major League" movie (which has about as much chance being filmed as Sheen does staying alive for 24 more months)?
There is hope. Wilson has built up enough hipster cred to push back the morning a celebrity wakes up to find the edge of coolness has dulled overnight. As long as he's got his own McSweeney's poster, he'll keep some semblance of Q score, or whatever the Mission District equivalent is.
Calculated or not, he's already turned himself into a Saturday Night Live character with a trademark look and catchphrases ("You're welcome"). He's like Ed Grimley, but with a better fastball. Even though I'm a proud owner of an unsanctioned "Fear The Beard" T-shirt bought from a guy on 3rd and Brannan -- ten bucks! -- I advise Wilson not to get too attached. Shave the beard. Keep the mutton chops. Erase the tattoos. Pierce the earlobes. Grow the beard again. Be totally clean-shaven and don't talk to the media. Whatever. Just don't do anything that an image consultant or league marketing executive says would be a great idea. And for God's sake, never endorse a rental car company or brand your own cologne.
In a few years, "Fear the Beard" will probably be a faint nostalgic echo. How many Red Sox fans are still cowboying up? Where's the Rally Monkey? It's all ephemera, even more so in our voracious need for recyclable pop culture. I hope Brian Wilson understands this and doesn't get frustrated when the backlash starts, either from fans on the road or impatient fans at home when his performance flags, as happens to all mortals (yes, even self-proclaimed warlocks are mortal).
He shouldn't get trapped in the elaborate construction of his own character, because no one wants to wander around inside the beard of a guy on an average team, or who blows saves, or whose arm always aches. I'm always tickled to see an athlete be weird and wonderful in what is still a conservative, dressed-down, corporate sport (though the Giants clubhouse could be the least so in baseball), but when Brian Wilson no longer helps the Giants win baseball games, or perhaps even before that, the world will move on, and I want him to be OK with that. Beards come and go, but fortunately flags fly forever.
There is hope. Wilson has built up enough hipster cred to push back the morning a celebrity wakes up to find the edge of coolness has dulled overnight. As long as he's got his own McSweeney's poster, he'll keep some semblance of Q score, or whatever the Mission District equivalent is.
Calculated or not, he's already turned himself into a Saturday Night Live character with a trademark look and catchphrases ("You're welcome"). He's like Ed Grimley, but with a better fastball. Even though I'm a proud owner of an unsanctioned "Fear The Beard" T-shirt bought from a guy on 3rd and Brannan -- ten bucks! -- I advise Wilson not to get too attached. Shave the beard. Keep the mutton chops. Erase the tattoos. Pierce the earlobes. Grow the beard again. Be totally clean-shaven and don't talk to the media. Whatever. Just don't do anything that an image consultant or league marketing executive says would be a great idea. And for God's sake, never endorse a rental car company or brand your own cologne.
In a few years, "Fear the Beard" will probably be a faint nostalgic echo. How many Red Sox fans are still cowboying up? Where's the Rally Monkey? It's all ephemera, even more so in our voracious need for recyclable pop culture. I hope Brian Wilson understands this and doesn't get frustrated when the backlash starts, either from fans on the road or impatient fans at home when his performance flags, as happens to all mortals (yes, even self-proclaimed warlocks are mortal).
He shouldn't get trapped in the elaborate construction of his own character, because no one wants to wander around inside the beard of a guy on an average team, or who blows saves, or whose arm always aches. I'm always tickled to see an athlete be weird and wonderful in what is still a conservative, dressed-down, corporate sport (though the Giants clubhouse could be the least so in baseball), but when Brian Wilson no longer helps the Giants win baseball games, or perhaps even before that, the world will move on, and I want him to be OK with that. Beards come and go, but fortunately flags fly forever.
