I’ve Got a (Nick)Name

Like the pine trees linin’ the windin’ road
I’ve got a name, I’ve got a name
Like the singin’ bird and the croakin’ toad
I’ve got a name, I’ve got a name

And I carry it with me like my daddy did
But I’m livin’ the dream that he kept hid

          Jim Croce 1973 “I’ve Got a Name”

While Jim Croce once crooned, “I’ve Got a Name” some of the baseball cards from our youth instead brought us nicknames on cardboard.  Throughout the history of game, baseball gave us “Babe”, “Lefty” and “Bobo” in bringing us closer to the player. The moniker may have come innocently from an incident during their youth or a way to identify the player. Whichever it may be that’s how we came to know some of our big leaguers.

For years I never knew Boog Powell was really John Wesley Powell after annually we were reminded on cardboard the slugging first baseman was Boog. It was in the February 1987 issue of Baseball Digest where I learned from Powell how he became Boog.

“In the South they call little kids who are often getting into mischief buggers, and my dad shortened it to Boog. Hardly anybody ever calls me John. I don’t know if I‘d even turn around if someone called me that.”

In 1952, the Philadelphia Phillies had two players by the name of Jones: Willie “Puddin’ Head” Jones and Vernal “Nippy” Jones. However, nicknames were really not needed to differentiate the two.

Puddin Head was the starting third baseman for the Phils, while Nippy logged just eight games with Philadelphia, instead spending most of his ’52 season with Triple-A Baltimore.

Jones #1 came across his nickname as a child after a popular song in the 1930’’s called Wooden Head, Puddin’Head Jones. Jones #2 came to be known as ‘Nippy” due to a father with a thirsty habit, as noted in the Sports Collectors Digest in 1989.

“My father was nicknamed Nip. He liked to take a nip of the bottle now and then. When I’d tag along with him, [people] used to say, ‘There goes Nip and Little Nipper.’ From then on, Nippy just stuck. With a name like Vernal, I guess you have to have a nickname.”

Kinda curious what his father was nipping on to name a son Vernal.

One of my favorites growing up was Boots Day who found a starting outfield job with the Montreal Expos after having toiled in brief call ups for the Cardinals and Cubs as the calendar changed from the 1960’s to the ‘70’s.

“I had that nickname since I was three months old,” related Day to BallNine whose real name is Charles. “Nobody ever called me by my real name.”

“The people were great in Montreal though it would get cold,” noted Day, who hit .258 in 449 games for the Expos over five seasons. Career highlights included making a diving catch in centerfield to help preserve Bill Stoneman’s second no-hitter on October 2, 1972 over the New York Mets and his final home run a walk-off long ball in 1973 off Mets right hander Buzz Capra in 1973 to make winner out of Steve Renko.

“If someone calls me Charles,” Day added.  “I don’t know who they are talking to.”

Alva Lee “Bobo” Holloman, known for being the first modern era pitcher to toss a no-hitter in his first big league outing, picked up his nickname from Nashville Vols owner Larry Gilbert, who one day remarked the right-hander reminded him of 4-time American League All-Star hurler Bobo Newsom. Gilbert was quoted as saying “You’re big, you have a strong arm, you like to pitch and you like to talk. You remind me of Bobo Newsom.”

Unfortunately, Holloman did not live up to the Newsom comparison on the mound as the hurler appeared in just 22 outings, all in 1953, which netted a 3-7, 5.23 for the St. Louis Browns. Newsom would enjoy a well traveled 20-year big league career registering a 211-222, 3.98 mark posting two 20-win seasons, but also three 20-loss seasons.

As for Newsom, he came across his nickname as a result of never being able to remember anybody’s name, thus he called people Bobo. Eventually, it turned around on Louis Newsom to where the righty was then called Bobo. Sounds like a Bobo to us.

A terror with the bat that included a 1928 batting title at .379 for the Senators, but adventurous in the outfield, Hall of Famer Leon “Goose” Goslin earned his nickname for the way arms flapped as he chased down fly balls.

While staying with the flock of geese, interestingly, Topps was consistent with Rich Gossage cards, while Score, Fleer and Donruss issued Goose Gossage cards. According to Gossage’s web site his nickname came from “Chicago White Sox roommate, Tom Bradley, said he looked like a goose when he leaned in to get the signal from the catcher.”

The same could be said for Jim “Catfish” Hunter as Topps stayed true to his given name, but allowed him to add Catfish to his card signature. When queried by Oakland A’s owner Charles Finley at his signing, Hunter noted his interest in hunting and fishing, thus the nickname of “Catfish” was born.

Then there were the players who made us feel hungry as Cookie Rojas and Coco Crisp graced our cardboard.  Octavio Rojas came to be known as “Cookie” when he started his baseball career by the Anglicization of his nickname Cuqui, given to him by his mother. In Spanish. Cuqui means cute or adorable, which we guess, did not send fear to opposing pitchers during the second baseman’s career.

As for Coveli Loyce Crisp, the outfielder’s nickname came from his sister who poked fun as he looked like one of the characters on the Cocoa Krispies cereal box. We can see it, can you?

And no, we did not forget Coco Laboy, the slugging third sacker for those expansion Montreal Expos, who was given his nickname from his mother for reasons that even Jose cannot explain.

The Brooklyn Dodgers of the 1950’s featured a dugout of nicknames of which made it to cardboard. The “Boys of Summer” were a colorful crew.

Rising just 5 foot-9, but playing a big role in the Dodgers run of five National League pennants in the 1950’s, Harold Reese was known as Pee Wee not for his stature, but for his affinity for playing marbles during his youth.

On the hill hurling spitters for the Dodgers was Edwin Roe, though better known as Preacher Roe. The lefty came to his nickname at age three when an uncle asked him his name as the youngster said “Preacher” as he enjoyed taking buggy rides with the local Methodist minister.

Backup catcher Albert Walker picked up the nickname Rube while serving as a bat boy growing up whose favorite local player was Rube Robinson.

Lastly in 1954 cardboard, the card was signed by Edwin D. Snider where the “D” stood for Donald and NOT Duke as all would call him. The Hall of Fame slugger with 407 homers to his credit picked up his moniker at an early age from his father as Edwin’s self-assured swagger reminded him of royalty. It’s a good thing too, as the song “Talkin’ Baseball” by Terry Cashman doesn’t sound like a hit with “Willie, Mickey and The Edwin”.

And John Wesley, if you are reading this, know that you will always be Boog to me.