If you've taken a peek at your favorite baseball team's roster of late, one would only hope that you come across one of the myriad of delightfully colorful names the sport has seen in recent years.
From board games, to cereals, to names you refuse to say in front of anyone until you hear it spoken on ESPN to confirm the absolutely insane pronunciation, here is Major League Baseball's All-Name team.
The name Coco Crisp conjures up fairly distinct mental images, none of which seem to be baseball related. As a matter of fact, athletics doesn't come to mind at all. I can't even form a mental image of what a person actually named "Coco Crisp" should look like, but someone with the nickname strikes me as a lanky kid with ever-present chocolate stains around his mouth sadly unaware that his metabolism will one day catch up with his eating habits. Though, I do see him wearing a baseball cap.
The volatile outfielder was shipped out by the Indians in order to make room for Crisp, and to cement in our collective consciousness that the Indians only scout players based on how memorable their names are. Still, bringing in the board game magnate facilitated team building exercises such as competitive yet good-natured games of Jenga and Mouse Trap.
Man, Coco Crisp just can't seem to get away from these people. It may be a thinly-veiled effort to make his name seem a tad less ridiculous. As for Jacoby, it's too bad his parents were drunk when he was born, clearly slurring their speech and deciding they liked the way they were placing emphasis on any syllable they pleased.
Tanyon Sturtze sounds more like some skeletal wooden structure than a baseball pitcher. "What is that thing you built around that tree over there?" "Oh, that's a sturtze." "Ah, what kind of Sturtze?" "Tanyon." "Nice." If his career 5.21 ERA means anything to anyone, he may have been more useful as a wooden structure as well.
This guy is no joke when it comes to phonetic spelling, so I have to give him some respect for that. Amazingly, both Brazelton and Sturtze were opening day starters in their careers. This fact makes a lot more sense when you learn that they both started those games with the Tampa Bay Devil Rays (in 2005 and 2002, respectively).
A regular on "worst trade of all-time" lists, Heathcliff shouldn't feel so bad. Despite his name instilling images of a cartoon cat, as well as an overweight, scruffy-headed, lazy, backwater yokel, in actuality he spent ten season in the big leagues, and the Seattle Mariners thought enough of him to ship Derek Lowe and Jason Varitek to Boston. Not a bad deal, considering they did get 13 saves out of 'Cliff. And it isn't as though Varitek went on to captain the Red Sox during multiple World Series runs, or Lowe recorded wins in all three postseason clinchers in 2004. Wait...
What we didn't know about the All-Star game: in the dugout, someone made a joke to Uggla about his name closely resembling the word "ugly" in pronunciation. Having never realized this prior, and far from the emotional safety of his own clubhouse and teammates, Uggla committed three errors, and here are his numbers since the break: .182 BA, .289 OBP, .364 SLG, .653 OPS, 3 HR, 8 RBI. Kids can be so cruel.
To this day I do not know how to say this name. I mean, is it jay-rod, juh-rode, or more of a contracted j'rod type of deal? No one has yet been able to answer this question. This is why Ellis Island should be able to change the names of natural born citizens as well as immigrants.
You didn't think the Indians were done, did you? Asdrubal appears to be some sort of portmanteau of a collection of words that not only don't belong together, but don't want to have anything to do with each other. Maybe asteroid, drudge, ballistics? Actually, on second thought, that sounds pretty useful.
I think a "boof" is a pillow a kitten sleeps on in affluent American households. I can't help but imagine someone wearing a frilly pink frock when I hear his name. Opposing batters seem to employ a similar strategy.
Look, you don't have to heed my warnings, but if that isn't the name of a general (or worse) in the Japanese military, then I don't know what is. The only safe place to be in America is Wrigley Field, because I'm sure Fukudome ranks to highly for any sort of kamikaze mission.
Never before have Js and Rs been so intimately and masterfully intertwined. The only thing more heavenly than hearing this delightful name whispered into your ear is watching Jair himself mow down opposing hitters. He is truly a king amongst men.