Making sense of minor names

Something inspired me this summer to take a look at the nicknames of the 160 affiliated minor league teams to see what the most popular format was for naming affiliates. What lies behind identities like the 66ers, the Bees or the Silver Hawks?

Not all nicknames are created equally, of course. Some are traditional names that have been in use for decades, like the Rochester Red Wings. Others are recent monikers bestowed via fan voting, often when a new franchise is born or a current one shifts into a new ballpark. And then there are, to me, the most boring ones: Those that share the nickname with the parent club. I look at those as unoriginal and a missed opportunity to forge a unique identity or champion the local community. In some cases (for example, in my understanding, all the affected Braves affiliates fall into this category), the reasoning is simple: Those clubs are owned by the parent clubs. In others, it may be tradition (as it was with the Omaha Royals, until this week) or simply an effort to promote the affiliation. The Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Yankees are one exception, changing from the Red Barons when the affiliation changed in 2006.

This week, Rob Neyer slammed the change from the Omaha Royals to the Storm Chasers, but I applaud it. Sure, "Storm Chasers" may be a bit kooky, but at least it's something unique and a conversation starter. It was done because of the move into a new ballpark for the 2011 season and, even if it wasn't said, to increase revenue. By using the copyrighted name Royals, Omaha could not make as much money on merchandise sales as it can with a name for which it owns the copyright. Plus, I think Neyer's claim that two capital letters is an automatic demerit is shortsighted. Uniqueness and local flavor outweigh any cartoonish qualities (again, logos aside). Plus, I've always been a fan of Lakewood's BlueClaws nickname.

The list of 160 teams comes from the list of affiliates on MiLB.com, excluding the 16 teams of the Triple-A-designated Mexican League and the teams in the "complex leagues," those that simply use the circuit abbreviation -- Arizona League, Dominican Summer League, Gulf Coast League and Venezuelan Summer League -- and the parent club's nickname and play on the back fields of the teams' spring training and Caribbean complexes.

I started by sifting through the list, sliding teams into categories as they came up, grouping them with those with similar names. The reasoning behind many nicknames is obvious or requires only a little knowledge of the team or the area. Some clubs had to be set aside in a separate column, to which I returned at the end and looked up those names' histories to discern the history behind them. When I was finished, I had five key categories, to which I added four smaller categories, because I felt the names that fit into them deserved the separation, even if those clubs fit into one of the five main columns. As a result, adding the number of teams in each category will produce a sum greater than 160, because a team like the Fort Wayne TinCaps fell under both "inanimate objects" and "historical figures."

Here are the categories, the five main first followed by the four additional sorts:

Animals	47
Inanimate objects	45
Local lore/legend/geography/industry	41
Parent club	32
People	26
Owners/historical figures	7
Creatures	6
Food	3
Pop culture	2

The inanimate objects are pretty self-explanatory -- things like Emeralds, Suns and Aces -- as are the animals and parent clubs. For teams under the local lore/legend/geography/industry category, I created some parameters, because there could probably be a case made that two-thirds of clubs are named for the region they call home. So for that category, I included only those teams whose nicknames are so unique to their regions that either there's no other place that can make that claim, or when told the name of the city/state/region, the nickname or something related to it is what comes to mind. For example, Asheville, N.C., is not the only place around known for tourists, so they don't warrant inclusion in the local category. (Though the name is a bit ironic when you think about native son Thomas Wolfe's You Can't Go Home Again.) Nor is Greenville, S.C., the only place known for auto manufacturing (especially BMWs); nor is Mahoning Valley, Ohio, the only place known for steel production. On the flip side, what comes to mind when you think of Nashville? Music. And though Johnny Appleseed may not be the image you get when you hear of Fort Wayne, Ind., he lived out his life there and is buried in the city.

For teams named after people, I considered both actual historical people (the Doubledays and Keys fit this description) and general people (like Senators, Mavericks and Indians). The owners/historical figures takes into account teams like the Aberdeen IronBirds, who get the iron in their name from club owner Cal Ripken -- the Iron Man. "Creatures" are those mascots of legend (often local) and not necessarily actual animals. The final two, food and pop culture, I added pretty much for myself.

Finally, I based these divisions solely on the team's nickname, no matter what the logo depicts. The Chattanooga Lookouts are named for nearby Lookout Mountain, so even though a "lookout" could be a person (and the logo shows cartoon eyes that could be peering through binoculars), they fall under the inanimate objects category. And though the Everett AquaSox show something that looks like a tree frog in the logo, they've been filed under "creatures," because, as best I can tell, there is no "aquasox" or "aquasock" in nature.

You can see the teams listed under their categories here and below are the results represented in pie chart form.

Last of the Expos

The fans in Washington have taken to the Nationals as everyone — outside of Peter Angelos — expected. You'll even see some Expos caps in the crowd at RFK Stadium, as I did on Saturday, a sign that those who come out to the ballgame aren't simply there because it's the new fad in town. These folks know their baseball.

Up in Vermont, the Expos name lives for one more season. I seem to remember the reason being that Major League Baseball — perhaps in an attempt to try to make everyone forget not only how badly baseball in Montreal crashed in the final years there, but also how poorly MLB has handled the situation (they still don't have a new owner for the Nationals, despite having had the bids in hand for months) — decreed that the Vermont Expos must have a new nickname for next season. (I'm pulling for Green Mountain Boys or Chunky Monkeys.) If any team should be allowed to keep the name, it's Vermont, located as it is along the Canadian border. I like the idea of holding onto that piece of history, but it's not meant to be.

The Expos are struggling on the field, though, with the worst record in the New York-Penn League. And the copy desk at the Rutland Herald is struggling too, if they (and their writer) think the road to RFK goes from Vermont to Savannah to Potomac to Trenton to New Orleans. Wrong capital city there. (But how appropriate that the team, which has been in existence for decades, has the Senators nickname? I can't believe it's taken me 2/3 of the season to realize that.)

As I plan to do with the naming contests for the Norwich Navigators and the new State College team, I'll stay on top of the naming developments in Vermont.

Guide them to a new name

Up in Connecticut, the Norwich Navigators have decided that since half the minor-league teams in the country are either relocating or redesigning their logos that they, too, need a new identity. And they're going all-out, planning a new nickname and logo for the 2006 season.

Apparently, the link to the city's seafaring history along the Thames River is no longer exciting enough, nor is the shortened Gators moniker. But in today's minor-league landscape, 11 years is a long time to stick with a nickname.

So where will they go from here? Coming up with a new team name can be difficult because of the marketing licenses and money involved. You can pretty much consider any current nicknames in the four major sports off-limits to start with, and that would carry on down through the minor leagues and colleges. If, for example, Norwich wanted to go with "RiverRats," in a nod to the Thames and other scenic rivers in their southeastern corner of Connecticut, they'd probably need to get permission -- and then pay licensing to -- the New Jersey Devils' affiliate. And they won't want to do that, because they'll want to keep all the merchandise revenue, rather than having to split profits with another team. Don't be fooled -- the potential cash flow is the main reason behind this campaign. Certainly, Giants will be out, because that's just boring and won't bring in any money.

I love the quirky names and logos of minor-league teams, so I'm interested in this switch. Fans can submit as many requests as they'd like to the Navigators website, so let's see if they take any of mine.

Norwich Steamers. Applies to both the area's maritime history (though that's probably something they're trying to move away from by ditching the Navigators name) and clams -- and when you think of Connecticut, maybe you think of seafood.

Norwich Oysters. Connecticut's official state symbols don't offer many options, unless you want to go with Robins or Charter Oaks.

Norwich Whalers. The NHL's Carolina Hurricanes probably still hold the rights to this one, and since it looks like professional hockey isn't dead, that could be a problem. But the Canes could be persuaded to relinquish their rights in exchange for one-time compensation. This one fits the state symbol idea.

Norwich Witches. Of course. It rolls off the tongue ... but I can't take credit for it. There was a minor-league team with that name in the Connecticut State League from 1899-1907.

Norwich Bonbons. Now we're getting somewhere. Again, sadly, not my idea. Another throwback to a previous team.

Norwich White Whales. Take the Whalers idea and make it more specific. Would provide the second-best literary reference in professional sports, behind the NFL's Baltimore Ravens.

Norwich Blokes. So many New England towns are directly named after burgs back in England, so why not acknowledge that? I suppose it doesn't make sense, considering the sport of baseball has no connection whatsoever to England, but it's not a bad name.

Norwich 95ers. Or Ninety-Fivers, if you prefer. Why not pay homage to the great New York-to-Boston highway with a baseball team name? The logo could be a ribbon of highway with two lanes of cars strung together bumper-to-bumper, not moving. The mascot would be a state trooper or a tow-truck driver.

Norwich Blackberries. Named for the nearby river but also has the added connection to the pinacle of portable personal organizers.

Norwich Traitors. It's the birthplace of Benedict Arnold and since one way to go with team mascots is to have them be mean and threatening, what could be more intimidating than a traitor?

I'll let you know which ones are chosen for the vote.


I don't mean to brag, but I must have decent foresight. Or, at the least, I have a damn good feel for this team and/or Willie Randolph's thinking. I'd like to draw your attention to my previous post (below), dated Monday, July 18, an off-day on the schedule for the New York Mets. Now, if you'd be so kind, peruse the Mets' lineup for tonight's game of Tuesday, July 19. And then take a look at just about any Mets game story or notes column and see what they're talking about.

Do you have the Power?

That's gold and Moss to you.
While perusing minor-league schedules for the upcoming season, I came across one of the team name changes that went unnoticed (at least by me) when it was announced last November: The former Charleston Alley Cats of the South Atlantic League have used the occasion of a new ownership group, a new stadium and a new affiliation with the Milwaukee Brewers to completely retool the team's image.

Apparently, the website needs a little more time.

Naturally, my first thought was, "Why Power?" The glut of team nicknames that do not end in the letter "S" has become a plague, I fear. Many of them represent a clever and purposeful connection to the local area or some history for the city or baseball in the region. When I first learned of this ability to name a group of people after a singular word was when I learned all the teams in the NBA and got to the Utah Jazz. How do you say it, I wondered, if you're a player on the team? "I'm a Knick" or "I'm a Cub" are easy; "I'm a Jazz" just sounds like Ralph Wiggum. (Nevermind the Jazz' idiotic decision not to rename the franchise when it moved from New Orleans.)

A quick look at the affiliated minor leagues gives us six awkward team names (excluding true plurals that do not end with an "S" like the Missoula Osprey and any variation of Sox; I'm not sure what to think of the West Tennessee Diamond Jaxx):

Altoona Curve
Bakersfield Blaze
Fort Myers Miracle
Lake Elsinore Storm
Salem Avalanche
Trenton Thunder

The above list potentially could have included several more; I know that one of the finalists when the Lakewood BlueClaws were named five years ago was Lightning, to go with the Thunder across the state in Trenton. So why Power? I was even more curious about what seemed to be a domed building as the centerpiece of the logo, which is exactly what I thought it might be: West Virginia's capitol building. According to the team's announcement, "West Virginia is and will continue to be recognized as one of the leading energy providers for the country. The energy production from coal, natural gas, and hydro-electric sources, combined with the fact that Charleston serves as the center for the state's political and economic powers led us to the name of the team. We felt it was extremely important that the name reflect the entire region and are excited about the tremendous marketing opportunities that will go along with the name."

Yet all I can think about is He-Man's cry once he received the Power of Grayskull: "I HAVE THE POWER!!" They should put that on a shirt.


"By the Power of Grayskull ... !"

Personally, I think they should've taken a cue from teams like the Toronto Raptors, the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim or the Springfield Isotopes and christened the team with a nod to Hollywood: The West Viginia Alias, in honor of homegrown star Jennifer Garner.

But I understand that's just being silly.

I wonder, too, if anyone made the connection between the team's "custom" color of Moss and one of the state's athletic heros, former Marshall star Randy Moss.

What I do like, however, is using the name of the state rather than the city. The SAL already has the Charleston River Dogs in South Carolina, so now there's no need for the parenthetical designation of "WV" or "SC" in standings, box scores or game stories. But more interesting to me is that it is the first affiliated team to play in the Mountain State and use the state's name rather than the city's (or town's). With a few dark years, minor league baseball has been played in West Virginia since 1887. The only other team to use "West Virginia" in its name — at least according to Baseball America's Encyclopedia of Minor League Baseball, 2nd Edition — is the West Virginia Coal Sox of the Frontier League. That team played 10 games in 1993 before folding.