Tom Brady's preseason haircut, Johnny Damon's post-Yankees mohawk

AP Photo/Winslow Townson

Depending on the photographer, depending on the angle, depending on where his throwing arm is in relation to his head, it is either confusing, spectacular, or spectacularly confusing. In some shots, with his uniform on, he looks like he won the lead in "Mrs. Doubtfire 2." In others, he looks like he finished dead last in a Lesbians Who Look Like Justin Bieber contest but first in the Pro Quarterbacks Who Could Be a Redgrave Sister posedown. Once in a while, it looks good in a "I went to where Farrah said" sort of way. When it's a little wet, it works. When it's dry, it can't even collect unemployment. But he's standing by it -- or, rather, under it.

Tom Brady's hair cut, his hair growth: People are talking. But not enough to make it stop. It gives the sharp angles in his face a great feminizing agent, a teeny touch of slutty Warren Beatty in "Shampoo," a touch of intramural jock. That haircut has stolen how many girlfriends and fogged up how many windows? I presume the men who hate it fear for their relationship. They prefer what, say, Matt Hasselbeck's hair is -- or is not -- up to. Brady, however, has taken a risk that is threatening to become The Way It Is. This is a diversion from the quality of his game. He's looked fine in the preseason. Should he come unglued -- or should The Patriots simply fail to dominate their first few games. The hair will become a kind of PR liability. It will become a joke.

The press corps will skip right past Bill Belichick, past Brady's paternity, past the fact that this team hasn't been right since Super Bowl 2008. The press will go right to The Haircut, as though he were Jennifer Aniston or Animal in Dr. Teeth's band. Maybe in some of these stories, Gisele will be cast as a reverse Delilah forcing her Samson to grow his hair. The chances he's taken on the field (who at the moment is less afraid of heaving at 3rd and long?) are one thing. The chances he's taking on his hair are something else.

“You apparently are having difficulty getting an appointment with the hair-stylist-to-the-stars on Newbury Street,’’ complained John Dennis, a Boston radio host, referring to Brady's salon of choice. In turn, Brady set the record straight in a way most men in his position have tried: It was an accident. “We’ve had two-a-days for the last three weeks. . . . This is what happens,’’ he said. “I passed that uncomfortable stage with it. Now, I’m just like, ‘Screw it, let’s just keep going.’ ’’ You could tell this was a non-story by the pitiful followup questions. No one said, "But, Tom, you've looked that way all summer. And, hello, the volume? Is that an accident, too?"

Jim McIsaac/Getty Images

Aside from loosing, Brady does nothing by accident. Really, though, the press doesn't understand any hair. Just today, Johnny Damon arrived at Yankee Stadium as a Tiger with his mohawk. All season a collective eyebrow has been raised, proving that George Steinbrenner's starchy ghost continues to keep the sportorial mind closed. Damon's mohawk is by far the best any sport -- and most music festivals -- have seen in many, many years. Today, it was at its crispest and most angular.

The spikes of Damon's hair were swept back in a wave. The back fin was choppy without seeming hacked at. It couldn't have been fresher were it caught that day. A girlfriend of mine recently got a spiteful haircut in Chinatown that could have produced a similar massacre on Damon. But there's always been a chic to that mohawk. Today, it looked especially expensive and cool -- even better in the slate-black and orange of Detroit. The Yankees won the game 6-2. Even so: Crypto-scrappy haircut for real scrappy team. It's tempting to reach into Damon's Native American roots for clarity. It's a tribute! It's a channeling! But, actually, it's a liberation from the straitjacket of New York. He's a Tiger, baby. Hear him roar. Damon's haircut might truly mean what Brady was just being coy about: Screw it. Let's just keep going.