Dear Greg Oden...Get a Nickname

Dear Greg Oden,

On Thursday night, the Portland Trailblazers made you the first overall pick in the 2007 NBA Draft. It certainly wasn't a surprise. Even my mother knew you'd go first.

"You can't teach height," as Mom always says.

(You can imagine how disappointed she is that yours truly only grew up to be five-foot-ten. Let's just say Thanksgivings can be very uncomfortable.)   

Anyway, now that you're officially a Blazer, Portland fans have high hopes for your future—you're being looked upon as a savior for a franchise that hasn't won a ring in thirty years.

All the hype, all the pressure, and all the expectations on a young seven-footer...who doesn't even have a nickname. 

Look, I'm sure your agents have already told you that "Greg" just isn't going to cut it. It's pedestrian. It's blasè. It reminds people of the oldest son on The Brady Bunch. 

It's just not going to work. 

A man-child with your talent needs a unique moniker, a brand that will allow you to market yourself on a global scale. Flashy handles sell sneakers and make players household names.

Just ask Melo, D-Wade, and King James.    

Now, I'm sure some people have already suggested "Big O." But no matter how appropriate that nickname may be, it still belongs to Oscar Robertson. Besides, in this day and age, the folks at Big O Tires would probably slap you with a cease-and-desist faster than Pacman Jones can find a gentlemen's club. 

But that's all right. Luckily for you, I've come up with the greatest nickname ever: The Dentist. 

I know, I know—it's a little strange. 

But hear me out. 

See, Greg, I've heard from several sources that you aspired to be a dentist as a youngster. To be honest, I'm not sure why your boyhood dream was to master the dental arts—I mean, no one likes going to the dentist, and who wants to log all those years in college just to spend a lifetime examining people's mouths? 

  

So as a career choice, I'm not a fan. But as a nickname, it works. 

It would certainly be unique, and your fans would never grow tired of saying, for example, that opposing centers like playing against you about as much as they like going to the dentist. 

What do you think?  It's growing on you, isn't it?

Now think about the endorsement and marketing opportunities. Colgate and Crest are already lining up with handfuls of cash. ESPN could run a SportsCenter commercial with you giving Stu Scott a root canal. Fans in Portland could wear white coats to games the way the Piston fans wore afro wigs for Ben Wallace. 

And, of course, to further emphasize how much 'the NBA cares,' you could visit Portland's schools and teach kids the importance of brushing and flossing.   

But that's not all. Just imagine the great calls the play-by-play hacks will come up with when they broadcast Trailblazer games:

"Rejected by the Dentist."

"The Dentist drills another fifteen-footer."

"There are no cavities in the Dentist's game tonight."

See Greg? This works. You know it, I know it, and pretty soon NBA fans will know it.

 

 

See you at the office,

 

Dave