The Shame in a Name

As RCASNW comes to a close, many may be wondering, “What is Ryan’s problem? From where is all of this animosity toward other teams and their namesakes coming?” These are valid questions that deserve honest answers. After some much-needed introspection, I have realized that perhaps my attacks on others are simply an attempt by me to project my hatred of my own sports names history on to others. I think…and it pains me to say this…I have long suffered from mascot envy. Bear with me as we review my troubled past:

Unicorns: crippling normal development in boys since 1963

I spent my early years at an elementary school whose mascot was a unicorn. Yes, a unicorn, prized by little girls everywhere, and a masculinity destroyer in little boys, grades K-6. I think this was around the time when I started wearing dresses. Pretty dresses. With unicorns on them.


Moving on to junior high, I was lucky enough to attend a school where the “Lions” instilled a sense of pride (pun, anyone?) that the Unicorns never could. I dropped the dresses, started donning a loin cloth, and felt good about myself.

A whippet: Note the tail between between the legs, (at least, I think that's a tail).

Unfortunately, my time as a Lion was much too brief, and I made my way to high school, where I became a “Whippet”. For those who are unfamiliar with the whippet, imagine that kid in high school who was way too tall and skinny, never spoke, and never cut his finger nails. Now imagine him in dog form. That’s a whippet. Don’t get me wrong; whippets are wonderful animals. But as mascots, they don’t exactly strike fear into the hearts of their opponents.

Rival School: “We’re playing the whippets. What’s a Whippet?”
My School: “A really fast, skinny dog.”
Rival School: “We’re the Bears. Bears eat Whippets.”

Our next stop on this tour of crappy sports names takes us to the University of Pennsylvania, home of the Penn Quakers. In real life, the Quakers are actually members of the Religious Society of Friends, who happened to be pacifists and had a penchant for working through their problems without conflict. Associate such imagery with our sports team, and you probably won’t be very intimidated:

Other school student A: “We’re playing the Quakers?”
Other school student B: “It’s time to crush some peace-loving nerds.”

The Penn Quaker Mascot = Creepy

Unless of course the other school was a member of the Ivy League or a local junior high school, and then it was most likely a pretty even match.

I want to end by saying that, while the names above were lousy, the teams themselves were not. Both my junior high and high school were often state champions in a variety of sports, and Penn teams often achieved the status of Ivy League Champions, (although I feel this is on par with being crowned “Coolest person” at a Star Trek convention). In any case, that sums up my troubled past, bringing us to today, where I am now resigned to rooting for Philly pro-sports teams, comprised of three teams with terrible names and the Eagles. Well, once again, their names might be bad, but they often win championships. Wait, no they don’t. Philly sports teams are perennial losers, and while I hope that they win a championship this year, their luck seems about as likely to change as their team names.

I think I’m going to cry myself to sleep tonight.