WHAT’S IN A NAME?

Crusaders chiefs should be commended for offering to consult Christchurch’s Muslim community in the wake of the mosque shootings about the future of the rugby franchise’s brand name.

That conversation is important – but all in good time. There are more pressing priorities facing the Muslim community as they grieve the deaths of 50 innocent Cantabrians.

The Crusaders could, however, smooth the way for future discussions by making some immediate symbolic changes.

Drop the chain-mail-draped Crusaders horsemen. Raise the castle drawbridge forever. Sheath the sword buried in the Christchurch Stadium turf.

Do it now. There is no place for sporting imagery linked to violent acts. There never has been – but even less so now.

Crusaders chief executive Colin Mansbridge deserves credit for the sympathetic tone of his statement about the name issue.

The very fact that the organisation is open to considering changing the name of the most successful team in professional rugby history speaks volumes for its leadership.

‘‘In our view, this is a conversation that we should have and we are taking on board all of the feedback that we are receiving. However, we also believe that the time is not right now,’’ Mansbridge said.

There will be a reluctance in some rugby circles to jettison the name under which the Christchurch-based Super Rugby franchise has won nine titles.

It would be hard for diehard fans, former players and coaches to swallow. That is understandable, but the key issue here, as Mansbridge has highlighted, is how the Muslim community feels.

Would they be uncomfortable, after last Friday’s tragedy, for their city’s premier sporting team to continue to bear a name associated with wars waged against Muslims in the Middle East in the 11th to 13th centuries?

That matters more than a moniker, adopted as much for marketing reasons and alliterative properties, as geographical location.

No-one doubts Mansbridge’s sentiments here: ‘‘For us, the Crusaders name is a reflection of the crusading spirit of this community,’’ the statement read. ‘‘What we stand for is the opposite of what happened in Christchurch on Friday; our crusade is one for peace, unity, inclusiveness and community spirit.’’

No Crusaders player or coach, in my memory, has made a direct link in their rugby journey to the holy crusades.

Perception is important, however. Especially now.

What does the Crusaders name mean to Christchurch’s growing Muslim community?

What was acceptable to the general populace in the mid1990s may not be now, given New Zealand’s more diverse demographics. No-one can deny the mosque murders have changed the socio-political landscape for ever.

A name change need not be put in the too-hard basket.

Sporting team names have been changed due to geographical relocation (Steven Adams’ Oklahoma City were once the Seattle SuperSonics) or in a bid to boost a flagging brand (as in the Canterbury Flames turning into the Tactix).

Changes for political, religious or racial sensitivities are relatively rare, but they have happened.

The Washington Bullets NBA basketball team became the Wizards in 1997 – almost two years after club owner Abe Pollin became alarmed at the former name’s association with street violence. ‘‘Unfortunately, far too often these days, ‘bullets’ in the news does not have anything to do with basketball,’’ Pollin said in 1995.

The Washington Post reported that the assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, whom Pollin knew, had been a catalyst for the change.

Some Washington folk were initially uneasy about the ‘‘Wizards’’ name because ‘‘Wizard’’ was a rank in the Right-wing racist Ku Klux Klan organisation, but the brand is still in vogue.

Texan baseball fans soon embraced the Houston Astros, who switched their name in 1964 from the Houston Colt .45s. Before the change, the club’s logo was a handgun. Some supporters wore T-shirts proclaiming Houston as ‘‘the 6-shooter club’’.

The change was, ostensibly, to reflect Houston’s emergence as a space technology centre and coincided with a shift to an indoor, astro-turfed stadium, but the gun control lobby would have breathed a sigh of relief at Texan sports heroes no longer having handgun links.

After Tampa Bay’s Major League Baseball team became known, in 1998, as the Devil Rays, a Florida newspaper received calls from Christians concerned at the ‘‘Devils’’ reference. The ‘‘Devils’’ was dropped 10 years later, and the Tampa Bay Rays made the World Series for the first time in franchise history.

Some sports teams blindly refuse to budge, despite public pressure. Native American activists have been complaining since the 1960s about the Washington Redskins’ NFL football team’s name, yet it persists.

Critics have complained the ‘‘Redskins’’ name and logo are blatant examples of ethnic stereotyping.

Protests have been held outside the Redskins’ stadium and in August last year nine civil rights and racial justice organisations issued a statement opposing the team’s move to a new stadium unless it agreed to drop the ‘‘R-word racial slur as its mascot’’.

The Cleveland Indians baseball team is finally dropping its Chief Wahoo logo this season, after championing it for 70 years.

For decades, Native American groups had complained it was a racially offensive caricature, but it took baseball’s commissioner to twist the Cleveland owners’ arms up their back.

When the club announced last year that it would drop the logo commissioner Rob Manfred hailed it as a vital step towards diversity and inclusion, saying the Cleveland club ‘‘ultimately agreed with my position that the logo is no longer appropriate for on-field use . . .’’

So if the Cleveland Indians can bow to public sentiment after 70 years, the Crusaders shouldn’t be frightened of change after 24 seasons.

There needs to be a considered debate – not a kneejerk reaction – and the Muslim community’s view must be paramount.

Any change cannot be made in haste. Like the Washington makeover, it may take a year or more to bed in a new brand. Intent is more important than imminence.

What new name would do? Do the Crusaders become the Knights – the name of its development team? They can’t just be ‘‘Canterbury’’ – there are almost as many Tasman players in the team now.

Cultural, geographical and environmental associations have to be carefully considered.

Take time to get it right, but the very first step is respectfully to ask our Muslim citizens what they think. It’s their team, too.

Drop the chain-mail-draped Crusaders horsemen ... Sheath the sword.