War, starvation and child labor exploitation may leave a trail of broken lives in every corner of the globe, but let us give thanks that the NCAA is stifling the gratuitous use of ethnically charged nicknames in its post-season tournaments.
Don’t you wish every other sporting enterprise would grow a bleeding heart and take the same courageous stand? We could expunge every maddening moniker from headlines and highlight shows once and for all.
I can handle just about every affront to my senses, but these repeated attacks on my nationality I simply cannot tolerate. In my household, for instance, we have instituted a virtual boycott against the state of Minnesota.
Let’s start with that despicable football team. Look, I’m a fourth-generation Finnish American, sitting here minding my own business, sipping Norse brew on any given autumn afternoon, when I’m confronted by the smearing of my people’s name.
It’s bad enough they must propagate the myth that we’re all heavily bearded (women included) creatures with questionable hygiene habits. What truly broke my heart was last season, when every rebroadcast of Randy Moss pretending to drop trau at Lambeau Field was littered with references to his being a “Viking,” all highlights littered with that hurtful horn logo.
Minnesota’s defense once earned the label “Purple People Eaters.” Now, isn’t that just wonderful? Not only must the world assume that every Finn, Swede or Dane exists to pilfer and pillage, but now we’re connected with cannibalism. Enough!
At least the front office showed a shred of decency by shipping Moss and his full moon to the Oakland Raiders (Sorry, Jimmy Buffett enthusiasts, it’s your duty to defend the honor of all pirates). Will they go all the way, do the right thing and change the name on their NFL licensed merchandise? I demand it.
Let’s talk about Minnesota’s baseball team, too. My wife is proud to be a twin, but having that franchise in the American League playoffs every year makes it impossible for me to convert her into a baseball fan. There’s too much pain.
Just look at that hideous logo from the 1970s and ’80s. You’ll see these two, identical, unidentifiable creatures with heads made out of baseballs or marshmallows or something. As if that isn’t grotesque enough, scrawled on the pennant above their unsettling smiles are the words “Win, Twins!”
Aren’t multiples stigmatized enough? You enter the world smaller than your single peers, in a birth often rife with complications. Mom dresses you identically in pea-green overalls and clown shoes. Then the grown-ups of the world feel the need to assign labels that individualize you, such as you’re the pretty one, you’re the smart one, you’re the criminally insane one. You survive all that, but then you buy a pack of baseball cards and now you’re confronted with the thought that winning is the only acceptable outcome in life. Nice.
Insensitive nicknames are an epidemic.
I’m especially troubled by the two teams that appear to be on a collision course to meet in the American League Championship Series. You want to convince me that the marketing genius who thought it would be cute to spell those things you put on your feet with an x’ didn’t know what he was doing? Oh, he knew. Now, more than a century later, third-graders will sit down to complete a homework assignment by writing about the baseball playoffs. They’ll do a spell check and there it will be, obscenity plastered across the window.
And why do we need to distinguish between “Red” Sox and “White” Sox, anyway? Are we secretly sending a message that color matters? It’s disgusting.
I wish time and space permitted me to call out every team that is using the name of an entire segment of the population for personal gain. They must be held accountable.
The New York Giants have some explaining to do to anyone with a growth disorder. The Colorado Avalanche should apologize to anyone who’s lost family in a fatal storm. And as someone who stands beside the zealots against Harry Potter, I’m still waiting for a sufficient explanation why Wizards is an OK name for a basketball team but Bullets isn’t.
What will be left for acceptable sports nicknames when my crusade succeeds, you ask? Well, look at all the inanimate objects in the world that can’t offend anyone such as Shelf, Ladder and Chair. Plus, those names have that singular chic appeal shared by Heat, Magic and Shock. How can they go wrong?
Oh, wait a second. “Chair” risks offending anyone who’s opposed to the death penalty, which means we might get some crossover with Joan Baez-worshipping college professors who’ve done such a smack-up job holding the NCAA hostage and cleaning up the sickening glut of Native American nicknames.
Lord knows we can’t afford that. Those sweet, huggable folks started this wonderful witch hunt. They’ve got to be around to help complete it.
Kalle Oakes is a staff writer. He can be reached by e-mail at koakes@sunjournal.com.
Send questions/comments to the editors.
