What's in a Name?

 Team nicknames and mascots are tricky things.  Notre Dame can be the Fightin’ Irish because the fan base—ostensibly Irish and Catholic—has laid claim to a slur.  It’s not unlike who gets to use the N-word.

Then you have Syracuse, where Clare’s boyfriend Chris is now a graduate assistant for the football team.  No more Orangemen for Syracuse because it’s a name synonymous with murderous violence.  Syracuse is just The Orange now.  By the way, Notre Dame and Syracuse are scheduled to play each another in football next season.  I can only hope there aren’t a bunch of charter flights for “fans” coming in from North Ireland.

All of which brings us to the Illini and the Cleveland Indians.  I have no problem with the Fighting Illini as a description or tag line; within the context of team sports, it’s “Trojans” or “Spartans” in two words instead of one.  What I do object to is some barefooted underclassman dressed up in a generic Indian costume—Illini is not Sioux is not Cherokee—acting like he’s stepping on hot coals while dancing at midcourt or midfield.  You want to dance?  Fine, then find a tribe willing to participate.  And if it’s that important to your team’s identity, then put some skin in the game and offer a full scholarship out of your budget.

The same holds for the Cleveland Indians, who beat the White Sox two out of three this weekend (doesn’t everybody?).  I have no problem with the team name, but, oh brother, the Chief Wahoo logo that appears on a sleeve patch and has got to go.  Various tribes inhabited the Ohio River Valley into the 19^th century; they’re the people who should design anything that goes on the Indians’ uniform.  Failing that, I would love to see a group of Native American investors buy the team and rename them the Goobers.  Chief Wahoo could then give way to Willy the Hillbilly.  Yahoo, Mountain Dew.