Where have all the nicknames gone?
By 1913 the International League’s Baltimore Orioles had established themselves as one of the most successful franchises in minor league baseball. Baltimore was an excellent baseball city and the team’s owner, Jack Dunn, knew how to draw customers.
In 1914, however, everything changed. The Federal League, attempting to establish itself as baseball’s third major league, placed a franchise in Baltimore. The team built its ballpark directly across the street from the Orioles’ abode. Most of the Orioles’ fans deserted them in favor of the “major league” team. On some days the Orioles’ attendance was less than 100.
Dunn’s financial situation soon became desperate. By midseason he was unable to meet his payroll. He told the National Commission (which ran all of Organized Baseball but not the “outlaw” Federal League) that he would have to fold his team unless it would allow him to sell players to major league teams immediately.
In that era it was commonplace for minor league teams to sell players to the majors, but that was a practice permitted only during the offseason. The sale of players in mid-season was a violation of the rules but the National Commission, realizing the alternative would be much worse, gave its approval. Three members of the Orioles were sold to major league clubs and the sale price brought Dunn enough cash to continue.
He then needed to replenish his own roster and do it as cheaply as possible. He scoured the local sandlots and came upon a left-handed pitcher named George who was having a great deal of success with a local trade school team. George lived in an orphanage and was more than eager to sign a professional contract.
With the Orioles he was a boy among men and men weren’t about to let him forget it. They wouldn’t call him George even though he posted a 22-9 record. He was a mere babe and that was the only name his grizzled teammates would use. It became permanent.
At the end of the season he was sold to the Boston Red Sox who introduced Babe Ruth to the baseball world. That name followed him the rest of his life and beyond. It’s the name that appears on his plaque in the Baseball Hall of Fame.
Having a nickname on the Hall of Fame plaque isn’t unique to Ruth. Not by a long shot. The Hall of Fame roster includes three Reds, three Rubes, two Leftys, two Bucks and two Whiteys. There’s a King and a Duke. There’s a Turkey, a Goose, a Rabbit, a Mule, an Old Hoss and a Catfish. There’s a Dizzy and a Dazzy. There’s a Pie and a Candy. There’s a Kid, a Pop and a Cool Papa. There’s Casey, Yogi, Hack, Cy, Kiki, Pee Wee, Sparky, Cap, Chief and Satchel. There’s an umpire named Jocko and even commissioners named Happy and Bud.
Interesting nicknames are part of the fabric of baseball history. Sal Maglie was called “The Barber” because he gave opposing batters close shaves with his fastball. Shoeless Joe Jackson got his nickname from his habit of tip-toeing down the hotel corridor when he came in after curfew. Muddy Reul was so-named because of his less than clean vocabulary. Oil Can Boyd was named because his favorite beverage came in a can. Blue Moon Odom had a face that some thought of as lunar. Dennis Martinez was called “El Presidente” when a minor political party in his native Nicaragua proposed him as a candidate for political office.
So, what happened? Where have all these names gone? Today we have The Panda, King Felix, Thor and Buster. Big Papi just retired. Maybe I’ve overlooked one or two, but it’s quite clear that today’s players don’t have the imagination of their predecessors. Heck, there isn’t even a Red or a Lefty out there.
At least some one in the commissioner’s office has some imagination. Someone decided that the players ought to be encouraged to bestow nicknames upon themselves. On the weekend of August 25-27 players will be permitted to put whatever nickname they wish above the number on the back of their uniform shirts.
Now we’re going to find out who’s really clever.