Padecky: Nicknames are mostly harmless, but a few leave scars

Whatever, that’s been my attitude. They need to call teams something otherwise I would have played for the University of Florida Baseball Team which is about as dead sexy to the ear as the Washington Football Team. I was a Gator but I easily could have played for the Swamp Lizards and that wouldn’t have kept me up at night. Even if I was a Reptilian, fine. It’s a nickname. It’s a logo. It’s a marketing tool.

Never influenced my meat fastball. The baseball still ended up in the same place, and it wasn’t the catcher’s mitt.

A nickname has charisma, I get it. I’m not going to see San Francisco play professional football. I’m going to see — full deep throat guttural roar here — THE NINERS! Make one word sound like five. Leave your Beemer with a foam pick axe gold and red face paint. Whatever.

I always knew “Redskins” was deeply offensive to Native Americans. But by the time I started covering the NFL I already had started paying very little attention to team nicknames. This nickname thing had taken on the cloak of a joke. How else to view The Dirt Bags, the nickname of the Long Beach State baseball team?

I was intrigued. My amusement was returned a thousand fold. I chuckled long into the night when I read about the Haverford (Pennsylvania) Black Squirrels, which competed strongly with the UC Irvine Anteaters and the Columbia (South Carolina) Koalas for Best Belly Laugh, Animal.

And then I came across the First Ballot Hall of Fame nickname, the one that put the previous small animals to shame. I don’t think I can ever say or type with a straight face The Banana Slugs of UC Santa Cruz. I actually have a banana slug magnet on my refrigerator in their honor.

Team nicknames are supposed to convey aggression, intimidation, fierceness, a formidable opponent. What’s so scary about a banana slug — unless you step on one? I even found the Fighting Terriers of Agnes Scott (Decatur, Georgia) frightening, as I have been bitten three times by dogs.

Some schools, in fact, went out of their way to be non-threatening, like the Penn Quakers, the Whittier Poets or the Providence Friars. I mean, if you can’t kick a friar’s butt, intimidate a poet or simply ask a Quaker to leave the field, you shouldn’t be playing. And don’t get me started on the Fighting Pickles (University of North Carolina School of the Arts). Though I would love one of their hats.

Of course some schools place little or no emphasis in fielding a sports team. But this is a body of work that influenced me, that made me shrug at a nickname like it was an asterisk I could ignore. Or minimize.

The “Washington Redskins” was offensive and demeaning but how can being a San Diego State Aztec be any less culturally repugnant? Where’s the outcry over the Gettysburg College Bullets?

Team owners, university presidents, school officials, it seemed like sometimes they pulled a nickname out of a hat like it was a rabbit. Sure, sounds good to me, said the good folks at the University of South Carolina-Sumter. Let’s be the Fire Ants.

Of course there’s no humor or justification in using the nickname “Redskin.” It is patently offensive and demeaning. It trivializes a people. Any nickname or a mascot — google “Chief Wahoo” for visual evidence — needs to be placed in the cultural dumpster along with other bad ideas, like “Whites Only” bathrooms.

Being wedded to a nickname, for some, is like wearing a tattoo. It can’t come off. It can’t be replaced. It must stay. It means too much. Has too much tradition behind it. A special loyalty exists, a following. So many memories. In Washington Sammy Baugh quarterbacked the Redskins. So did Sonny Jurgensen. Joe Gibbs and George Allen coached there. John Riggins ran over people.

In rebuttal, I offer the word “swastika.”

All of us know now what it means. Nazis. White supremacy. Holocaust. The ultimate symbol of evil. Wasn’t always.

To a Buddhist, a swastika symbolized the auspicious footprints of the Buddha. It was part of the Buddhist doctrine. It was revered. It was also co-opted. In common reference, a swastika now has nothing to do with peace.

Meanings change. People change. Life evolves whether we like it or not. We move on and we adapt, adjust. Words give us direction and sometimes words point back to us in ways we prefer not to acknowledge. A swastika no longer helps a civilized society to move forward. Neither does “Redskin.”

That I did not truly understand the depth of the indignation “Redskin” caused is a result of cultural blindness, brought about by years of my sensitivity being tamped down by Anteaters and Koalas and Fighting Pickles.

The awareness, I sense, is just beginning, not ending. A 2013 database estimated that over 2,000 high schools have a mascot that references Native American cultures. Do the Braves of Tomales remain? Or the Braves of Atlanta? How about the Indians of Cleveland?

The people who are offended will decide. They are the ones who cringe. They interpret for the rest of us. If they cannot, how can the rest of us judge? We don’t have their history. We don’t have to tell our kids what happened to our ancestors at Wounded Knee.

The Stanford Indian became the Stanford Cardinal in 1972 and the university continued to spit out Nobel Laureates and pro football players. Its world, our world, did not change. We move on. It’s what we humans do.

So Riggo and Jurgensen and Gibbs can remain Redskins if those with the tattoo insist. Fine. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change a thing. Riggins still rushed for 104 touchdowns and 11,352 yards. Jurgensen still threw for 255 touchdowns and 32,224 yards. Gibbs is still the only coach to win three Super Bowls with three different quarterbacks. They all get to stay in Canton.

That team owner Daniel Snyder still can’t come up with a new nickname is baffling. Amazing. The name is right there. Perfect for the city. It’s so obvious. The football team should be called the Washington Politicians. Though I suspect, some might find it offensive.

To comment write to bobpadecky@gmail.com.