THE BATTLE OF THE MULLET

In the long, dramatic, pinstriped history of the New York Yankees, there are stories of towering home runs, perfect games, postseason miracles, and then… there’s the tale of Don Mattingly’s hair. Yes, his hair. Not his bat. Not his back. Not even his mustache. Just his business-in-the-front, party-in-the-back mullet that dared to defy a billion-dollar empire.

It was 1991, and the Yankees were a hot mess. The postseason hadn’t been seen in the Bronx since Reagan’s first term, and the only thing more rigid than the Yankees’ offense was George Steinbrenner’s grooming policy. Enter Don Mattingly, the team's captain, a six-time All-Star, MVP, Gold Glove machine—and owner of a magnificent mullet that practically needed its own locker.

George Steinbrenner had a rulebook, and unlike most owners, he actually read it. The rules were simple: No facial hair below the lip. No long hair. No individuality that wasn’t pre-approved by the front office. Basically, if you looked like you might play guitar in a bar band on weekends, you were violating club policy.

Donnie Baseball, clearly not a fan of acoustic conformity, let his hair grow a bit past regulation. Nothing too wild—just a little business-casual rebellion. Then came Stump Merrill, the manager at the time, who found himself in the unfortunate position of being Steinbrenner’s style police. Stump told Mattingly to cut his hair or sit on the bench. Mattingly, being Mattingly, refused.

And so the Yankees benched their captain. Over hair.

The media had an absolute field day. Newspapers dubbed it “The Battle of the Mullet,” which honestly sounds like an off-brand pro wrestling pay-per-view. TV crews descended on the Stadium as if the Yankees had just signed Babe Ruth’s ghost. Fans were confused. Children wept. Stylists everywhere sharpened their scissors.

Steinbrenner, never one to back away from a good PR firestorm (he practically set them for warmth), leaned all the way in. In one of the more bizarre moments in Yankees broadcast history, Phil Rizzuto, Bobby Murcer, and Tom Seaver took to the WPIX pregame show to spoof the drama. Rizzuto, with clippers in hand, pretended to be Steinbrenner’s personal enforcer-barber. It was performance art, really. Three legends of the game riffing on their boss’s obsession with follicles.

Mattingly didn’t think it was funny. Publicly, he cracked a few smiles. Privately, he was fuming. He was the team captain, for crying out loud. He wasn’t some kid showing up late to rookie camp with dreadlocks and a backwards hat. He was Donnie freaking Baseball—the guy kids imitated in their backyards and whose mustache should be in Cooperstown by itself. And yet, here he was, benched over a mullet.

It got so bad that Mattingly briefly considered asking for a trade. From the Yankees. Because of hair. Somewhere out there, an 11-year-old future Derek Jeter probably said, “Wait, I’m not allowed to grow my sideburns either?”

But no story this goofy stays hidden from pop culture. Enter The Simpsons.

In the legendary 1992 episode “Homer at the Bat,” Mattingly appears as one of Mr. Burns’ recruited ringers. In a scene that can only be described as animated perfection, Mr. Burns demands Mattingly shave his sideburns—repeatedly. Mattingly insists he already has, but Burns screams, “You’re off the team, for good!” 

It was a brilliant, spot-on jab at the real-life hairgate, and Mattingly’s deadpan delivery made it even better. The man got benched in a cartoon again. This time, by a yellow billionaire with liver spots.

And yet, despite the absurdity, something kind of beautiful happened over time.

There’s no evidence that Mattingly and Steinbrenner ever became besties who went shopping for buzzers at CVS together, but they found peace in their own grumpy way. George, for all his eccentricities, admired work ethic and loyalty more than anything. And Mattingly, despite the mullet mutiny, never stopped giving 100 percent. Eventually, the two developed a working relationship built on—you guessed it—mutual respect.

When Mattingly retired in 1995, he was still the Yankees’ captain, still beloved by the fans, and still rocking a little extra length in the back. And years later, when he returned as a coach, there was no talk of hair—just hitting.

So while Mattingly never won a World Series ring with the Yankees, he did win something far more important: a cultural moment. A slice of Bronx folklore. A legacy that includes Gold Gloves, a retired number, and a full-on hair-based standoff with the most controlling owner in sports history.

George Steinbrenner wanted everyone in uniform, clean-cut, regulation-perfect. Don Mattingly just wanted to let it grow a little.

And for one glorious, silly, headline-making stretch in the early '90s, Donnie’s mullet led the league in defiance.

And honestly? That’s the most Yankee thing of all.

--Alvin Izzo
BYB Yankee History Contributor