Because even The New York Times noticed
Last week, my friend Zack sent me a link to the New York Times bit about the lack of legendary nicknames, a subject I meditated on way back at the beginning of this column’s career. The Times, of course, picking up on something that’s been written better and with more nuance by people who actually … Continue reading
The importance of being Ernie, not Ernest, or, How nicknames make legends
Now think again of the legends. Think of their names – their nicknames, infinitely more powerful and weighted with meaning than their given names.
The Great One. The Intimidator. The Great Bambino.
Now think of the names of the men who hope to be legends, or who played hard enough to perhaps, one day, be a footnote to legendary days:
The Perfect Storm. The Answer. Little Ball of Hate. King James. Prince Albert.
Now think of the great athletes of our time, and how devoid they are of excellent, aspirational names: Miggy. Manny. A-Rod. K-Rod. And so on and so forth.
None of these men will ever be great men (here I am reminded of the absurd song from Gang of Four) so long as their names offer no direction, nothing to become (an intimidator, a bearer of greatness) and begin no prophetic cycle of legend.
