There are Some Who Call Me Tim

Been to the Philadelphia Eagles training camp yet? NO?!?!?!?? What? – watching a bunch of guys not play football, but rather, PRACTICE football in 95 degree heat at Lehigh University doesn’t sound like a productive use of time? After all, in 32 different athletic complexes around the country for the coming month this exact attraction will draw thousands away from their computers and offices in hopes of seeing their favorite team’s depth chart form in front of their very eyes! (No doubt, these are the people that actually pay to be a part of ESPN.com Insider. Suckers.)

Ok, well since you aren’t reading this from Bethlehem, PA, let me break the biggest news story of the summer. Forget TO, we’ve gotten bigger fish to fry. (Does this overused and misplace cliché make Terrell Owens a fish? If so, what kind? Discuss.)

Left Offensive Tackle Tra Thomas is in the press conference liner notes for two reasons. First, he’s coming off a tough season-ending injury and hoping to regain his Pro Bowl form. Sure, whatever. Secondly, he’s asking the press and the team to no longer be called “Tra.” He now prefers to go by his real first name, William. World, meet William Thomas. (Insert muted party horn sound here.) (God, this is why it would be nice to have a sound and graphics dept. at YAB.)

Athletes change how their names are to be said all the time. Hockey players switch up pronunciations of French-Canadian surname. Basketball players have been known to change their name entirely to reflect ancestral heritage – anyone remember Chris Jackson? Lew Alcindor? But in baseball, the best example of name changing occurred with a light-hitting, base-stealing Montreal Expo by the name of Tim Raines.

Tim Raines had a 23 year Major League career, spanning 4 different decades and finding him in 5 different jerseys. His overall numbers are impressive – a .294 lifetime batting average, 808 career stolen bases, and 113 triples among his most impressive numbers. But no matter what he did, Raines felt that he wouldn’t get there by using the name Tim. He publicly decried his own name, decided it wimpy and declared that others should call him by something more intimidating. (Nevermind the other field players on the Expos included a Vance, a Herm, an Andres, and yes, another Tim in Tim Wallach. Poor guy – he cried himself to sleep at night.)

Call me Rock.

Yes, Tim Raines decided it would be better if people referred to him as Rock Raines. (Sure, this had a curious overtone related to the fact he admitted to smoking crack before games in order to get pumped, but hey, how much cooler is Rock than Tim?!?) But here’s the thing with nicknames.

1) You need to be worthy of the nickname. When Raines’ average hovered in the .220 area, do you feel like a Rock? Superman gets to be Superman because he doesn’t have off-seasons. He’s Super, all the time. If a pitcher knows you’re an easy out, either you aren’t worthy of “Rock” or the pitcher’s name is Paper.

2) You have to commit to the nickname. After that above crappy season of statistics, isn’t curious how his baseball card the next year would revert to calling him Tim again? But after a strong campaign the next season, he woul revert to Rock and Topps and Upper Deck would take note. You don’t see Spud going by Dan when he’s not feeling funny, do you?