I Am Not Brian Wilson

On Sunday afternoon, scheduling peculiarities resulted in me missing my fast-pitch baseball game on the south side of Chicago and instead helping out in a slow-pitch softball game for a friend on the slightly-less-south side of Chicago. During the second game of the doubleheader, a slew of little league kids appeared, waiting to take the field from us.

Upon seeing me, many of the tykes began chanting: “Brian. Wilson.” Clapclap, clapclapclap.

This is why:

But I am not, in fact, Brian Wilson, though my face proteins may resemble his. Let us examine the differences:

1) Though the preceding image — which compares my Facebook photo with Brian Wilson’s file photo — makes our beards seem quite similar, mine is in fact quite brown while his is quite black.

2) And there is this matter:

3) And the matter of personal associations:

4) And this horrible matter:

5) And lastly, I am like TOTALLY five years younger than Wilson.

Which brings me to my final topic: The ladies at the game — OH LADIES *a rolling of eyes* — thought those tykes were cheering for the Beach Boys singer, not me, the bearded second baseman. Women!

AMIRITE?!!?!?!?!?



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Bradley writes for FanGraphs and The Hardball Times. Follow him on Twitter @BradleyWoodrum.


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Resolution
Guest
Resolution

Meh, if I’m wearing sunglasses (and your beard looks darker) and I just call you by your initials, you basically are Brian Wilson. Although in light of that infographic you provide, I’d think a poor-man’s Brian Wilson…

MikeS
Guest
MikeS

Also, if you are playing softball on the South Side for any length of time, you are likely to have consumed a few beers and that could help the confusion along a little. My experience is that playing softball anywhere in Chicago is mostly an excuse to drink beer and get away from your wife. Same can be said about golf in Chicago. It’s sort of like ice fishing for people with brains.

Resolution
Guest
Resolution

Or people without ice!

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