Fights and tomfoolery? I’m done with high school nicknames

The overhand right thrown by a citizen patriot at a special meeting of the Glastonbury Board of Education to reconsider a mascot change wasn’t a punch at all.

It was a punchline.

We are a joke, Connecticut. That is our new nickname: The Connecticut Joke. We are knee-slapping fools. Our mascot is Jerry Springer, who used to videotape his show in Stamford.

Can you imagine getting so enraged about a high school mascot that videos could catch Board of Education member Ray McFall going nose-to-nose, bellyto-belly with a guy and end up on the floor after the guy leveled him with a punch to the face?

It’s nuts. It’s absurd. It’s the very definition of firstworld problems. It happened Tuesday night inside the Glastonbury High auditorium.

The wannabe Rocky Marciano reportedly was yelling and let fly an expletive at the board during the public comment portion of the meeting held to discuss a petition asking the board to reverse its decision on replacing the Tomahawks mascot.

During a 10-minute recess, McFall and the wannabe Conor McGregor began jawing with each other. Typical bravado was exchanged. On one video, McFall can be heard saying, “Yeah, I’m in your face.” And, “I’m right here.”

The wannabe Tyson leaned in close to McFall and called him an “effing Beaver.” Actually, it wasn’t Beaver. That’s the Weaver and Cheney Tech nickname. At any rate, McFall gave him a push. The wannabe Rocky Balboa quickly flattened McFall.

McFall got back up and the good news is he appeared to be uninjured. The bad news is that the video and news reports quickly spread around the nation and the globe. This kind of garbage titillates people.

While folks remain in a frenzy over who could be arrested and for what, Glastonbury officials called for the need for decorum. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. To the best of my knowledge, we haven’t had a punch level an elected Connecticut official over high school mascots before, but we’ve exposed ourselves time and again with our tomfoolery. One too many times.

What began as legitimate concerns over Native American references has long since become falsely noble discourses on free expression and misplaced emotions over treasured traditions. Sometimes the meetings get sophomoric. Sometimes they get ugly. Always there are meetings and public proclamations that only seem to serve to make us a bigger joke.

So gather round, Presidents, Governors, Patriots, Spartans, Knights (Green, Black and Blue)! Bellringers ring the bell for the Highlanders, Centaurs, Whippets and Kangaroos.

This is one man’s remedy:

No more nicknames and mascots for high schools. We’re not mature enough to have them. Like my dad used to say it’s all fun and games until somebody breaks a lamp.

No more Lions, Tigers and Bears. No more Academics to teach. No more Trojans to protect. No more Blue Devils or Red Devils to exorcise.

Although this isn’t going to happen, it should, and it will at least in this column on Connecticut’s biggest high school sports website. I’ve already done my best to stop using Native American nicknames. Now, it’s my umbrella rule.

Greenwich, you’re Greenwich.

St. Joseph, you’re St. Joseph, neither Hogs nor Cadets.

And Glastonbury, you’re Glastonbury.

Sorry, if you are referred to as “it” instead of “they,” but it is the grammatical rules of the collective noun.

We have lost our way. Even sports stories draw vicious attacks from the woke left and angry right. Everything is political. Everyone is ready to brawl. Everyone is sure it is the other side’s fault.

The public forums over COVID masks in school make me squirm. So do the ones over teaching critical race theory. There is so much misinformation and rancor. Yet these are vital topics, vital to our health, vital to our democracy. Democracy can be messy.

Nicknames and mascots don’t mean squat, or at least they shouldn’t. It isn’t democracy. It is cartoon figures. And this comes from a guy who has been involved in sports from the time he was six until 66.

The sweat, the discipline, the heart, the composure to execute at key moments comes from within the high school team. The glory comes from the parents and community that supports the team.

All those wonderful things are in the first part of Berlin Redcoats, Darien Blue Wave or Hamden Green Dragons. The town, the school is our tradition. We cannot be so dense to think otherwise.

Believe me, Glastonbury.

When we think about your great soccer teams, we think Glastonbury. Not Tomahawks.

Yet Connecticut consistently has found itself at the forefront of the high school mascot issue.

A few years back, Killingly changed its name from Redmen and Redgals (talk about offending women and Native Americans in seven letters) to Red Hawks. A more conservative Board of Education was elected and reinstituted the offensive name. National media had a field day.

What was acceptable in 1940 or even 1970 isn’t acceptable today. Society evolves. Communities evolve. Manchester, Guilford, Farmington, RHAM, North Haven … a bunch of schools have changed their names. The stories of students getting involved, designing new logos can be uplifting. They have not outweighed the rancor.

After much back and forth, back and forth, West Hartford stopped school logos with Native American imagery, but now there’s a new round of back and forth over whether Hall Warriors and Conard Chieftains need new nicknames.

In June, state senators passed a bill that could cut municipalities off from the Mashantucket Pequot/ Mohegan Fund, which generates education revenue from casinos. According to the provision, money would be withheld from schools that don’t have permission to use “any name, symbol or image that depicts, refers to or is associated with a state or federally recognized Native American tribe or a Native American individual, custom or tradition, as a mascot, nickname, logo or team name.”

National media and talk shows descended from both sides. Again.

Some schools refuse to budge and communities continue with these ugly show trials in the name of democracy. Well, guess what? Democracy can live without mascots.

Some of the nuance that people go to is alarming. You’ll hear things like in Glastonbury that it isn’t the change as much as the way the change was instituted. Or, in other places, you’ll hear how Indians, Redmen, etc, are such a sacred part of the town’s tradition you’re left thinking these people may actually be worshipping false gods.

Glastonbury changed its name from the Tomahawks to Guardians last year. The National Congress of American Indians had contacted the board requesting the Tomahawk logo and mascot be discontinued. Because of COVID, the public couldn’t attend meetings and needed to submit written questions.

A petition arose and eventually gained 3,000 signatures — 3,000! — pushing the board to allow citizens more input. In the petition it was pointed out that while the tomahawk has ties to Native Americans it is an axe-like tool that people everywhere now use. The petition says there is nothing Native American in the logo and asks, “What is offensive about an axe?”

Right. No one thinks about the Native Americans portrayed scalping white settlers. No one thinks about Braves fans doing the Tomahawk Chop. They think of your neighbor Bob using a tomahawk to chop his firewood.

Stuff like this is going to continue for years and it’s only going to leave people madder than a Danbury Hatter.

Not me. No more nicknames here.

Sorry, Nathan Hale-Ray High School Noises.

There will be silence.