Columnist Ron Kantowski: No Gillette deal for Reds, Vaughn

Thursday, Feb. 18, 1999 | 11:07 a.m.

Ron Kantowski is the Las Vegas Sun sports editor. His regular notes column appears Tuesday. Reach him at ron@lasvegassun.com or 259-4088.

With the exception of a drill sergeant, a barber, my late father or Dave Parker, I might be the only one saddened by the Cincinnati Reds' decision this week to lift their 32-year-old ban on players wearing facial hair.

Blame it on the pitching.

The way I see it, if anybody other than Greg Maddux knew how to change speeds and hit the outside corner, Greg Vaughn wouldn't have hit 50 home runs last season, and therefore wouldn't have been able to use them as a bargaining chip when negotiations with Reds owner Marge Schott got a little ... well, hairy.

When that happened, Reds fans got all lathered up. Upon learning that Vaughn wasn't on board with the "hair today, gone tomorrow" policy, they flooded the front office with letters, faxes and e-mail, supporting the slugger's right to bare hair.

Somewhere, Darrel Chaney, the old Reds infielder, had to be wondering what happened to his individual rights. But they don't change rules for .217 hitters who can turn the double play.

So Vaughn wins, Schott loses. Or if you're scoring at home: Old Goatee 1, Old Goat 0.

Subjectivity aside, it was a dumb, antiquated rule. The length of a player's hair or whiskers has nothing to do with his ability to hit a curveball or the cutoff man.

If Schott and her predecessors were right, the Reds starting outfield would cut their hair like Yul Brynner. Likewise, if Vaughn's power output could be traced to his beard, the Cincinnati infield would look like like ZZ Top.

Back in 1967, my old man wore his hair like John Unitas, so mine looked like Earl Morrall's. But by '69, I had picked up on a vibe -- I don't exactly remember it as tacit approval -- that what was going on inside my head was more important than that on the outside, and that is was OK to bag the crewcut and do a little dab of Brylcreem. I think it was the same day I brought home my sixth-grade report card with all A's and B's. Or I cleaned up my room.

The Reds, unlike my old man, were steadfast, with few concessions -- Pete Rose traded his flattop for a Moe "Three Stooges" Howard 'do, and Johnny Bench grew his sideburns a little longer. But Bobby Tolan wasn't allowed to sprout an Afro of H. Rap Brown circumference, even after the team put its wool uniforms in storage for those trendy, double-knit jobs with the wide waistband.

And that's the way it stayed ... until this week. If you were traded to the Reds, you either shaved (as Dave Parker did) or demanded to be traded again (as relief pitcher Jim Kern did). There were no exceptions, which the Arizona Diamondbacks (who also have/had a rule banning facial and long hair that apparently won't apply to fireballer Randy Johnson this season) should note.

Likewise, the Reds' decision to become hair apparent was steeped in capitalism, not idealism. And so like a Braves' lead with Mark Wohlers coming on to pitch the ninth, another of baseball's quirky traditions goes by the boards.

The next thing you know, they'll be messing with the Yankee pinstripes and taking out the Wrigley Field ivy for a canvas fence.

And call me old-fashioned. But I still want the clean cut Marine with the Mameluke sword in those "Few and the Proud" commercials warming up in my bullpen in the event that crackpot Hussein has ... well ... a wild hair.