Column Writing

2008 TPA Better Newspaper Contest

First Place D7

The Community News (Aledo)

What’s in a name? Plenty of color, that’s what

By Chuck Bloom

Wilmer Mizell. Al Lyle. Jim Hunter. John Odom. Dennis Boyd.

What do these men have in common? I'll allude to that later.

Other than integrity, honesty and common sense, you know what's missing in today's professional sports? Color. Not the kind on a uniform (most of which are downright ugly, such as the new Steelers home units), or in the stands (all of which is unprintable).

And one of the missing elements of color is the use of a good nickname for the star. A-Rod or K-Rod or T.O. aren't nicknames; they are just abbreviations and unworthy of belonging in the same breath as the classics.

There must be some basic rules to the assignment of nicknames. First, you can't give it to yourself; it must come from a third party (fans, sports writers), but not an athlete's agent or marketing company. Second, it cannot involve initials or the, athlete's name. Finally, the nickname must be original and noteworthy. Ivan Rodriguez was adorned with the name "Pudge" because of his physical build, but it had already been taken by (now) Hall of Fame catcher Carlton Fisk. It's a good nickname but it isn't ... original.

Football was a better sport when the likes of Elroy "Crazylegs" Hirsch, “Sweetness" Walter Payton, his Bears teammate William "The Refrigerator" Perry, "Mean" Joe Greene, Billy "White Shoes" Johnson or Dick "The Night Train" Lane suited up. And since a player cannot provide his own nickname, Deion Sanders calling himself “Prime Time" might have stuck ... but it was self-inflicted.

Today, the closest thing to an original NFL nickname was also self imposed, but still priceless. In Vince McMahon's ill-fated XFL, the most memorable player was kick returner Rod Smart, who went by the name, “He Hate Me." When Smart actually made an NFL roster, that name was kicked quickly to the curb by the NFL (No Fun League) officials.

Pro basketball has not made many quality nicknames other than Earvin Johnson's evolution from a high school sensation in Lansing, Mich., to becoming the aura of "Magic." Michael Jordan was nicknamed "Air" Jordan but not until Nike developed a shoe by that name. Nicknames that coincide with advertising campaigns don't count.

Hockey has had some wonderful nicknames from the one word variety ("Punch" Imlach, "Toe" Blake, "Dit" Clapper, "Gump" Worsley) to the most descriptive (Bobby "The Golden Jet" Hull, “Terrible" Ted Lindsay, Maurice and Henri Richard, known as the "Rocket" and the "Pocket Rocket," Bernie "Boom Boom" Geoffrion). And although his nickname violates one of my tenets — use of the name — all NHL fans knew that when you said, "The Big M” you immediately identified Frank Mahovlich.

But baseball, the American pastime, has had more colorful nicknames to match the varied individuals, from all parts of the land, who played the game. The only modern player with a good nickname is Randy "The Big Unit" Johnson. Nolan Ryan's nickname ("The Express") is good enough for use as the name of the Triple-A Round Rock affiliate.

But those names are nothing like the Waner Brothers, Paul and Lloyd (Poison and Little Poison), Paul and Jerome Hanna Dean (Daffy and Dizzy), Walter (Big Train) Johnson, Ty (The Georgia Peach) Cobb, James "Cool Papa" Bell, "Wee" Willie Keeler, Enos "Country" Slaughter, "Shoeless" Joe Jackson or Mark "The Bird" Fidrych. Willie Stargell wasn't called "Pops" until later in his career and while Ken Griffey, Jr. simply became "Junior," his father was never ever called "Senior."

George Herman Ruth became "Babe" after be entered the sport and while there have been other "babes," the Sultan of Swat (a good nickname) is the top of that list.

No, the good, well-fashioned, well-conceived nickname has become a thing of the past. Like much else in our society, we've become too lazy to put a little thought into it. I am a man of sports tradition and great nicknames have always been one of those traditions, for which we need to return.

So let's go back to that list on top. All these men played baseball and were known by names not involving their birth monikers. Wilmer Mizell was a left-handed pitcher for Pittsburgh who became a congressman, but fans knew him as "Vinegar Bend" Mizell. Al Lyle was a fine lefty reliever who played with the Yankees in the '70s as "Sparky" Lyle, John Odom and Jim Hunter were Oakland As teammates when they won three straight World Series titles as "Blue Moon" Odom and "Catfish" Hunter (Hunter is in the Hall of Fame).

And Boston and Rangers fans should remember the right-handed hurler they called "Oil Can" Boyd, who is somewhere on the North American continent, trying to prove he can still pitch.

Them were the good old days.