Forget All Those Lions and Tigers and Golden Bears

The banana slug is now the official mascot of the UC Santa Cruz athletic teams, a shocking development.

Actually it’s not shocking at all, but if I didn’t say it was, the students at Santa Cruz would be very disappointed, since the motive behind the movement to change the teams’ nickname from Sea Lions to Banana Slugs was to shock the traditional sensitivities of old sports fogies.

It’s the same principal that inspired male kids in the 1960s to grow their hair long, and has inspired musicians in the ‘80s to play their guitars with ball peen hammers instead of picks. Shock and outrage is the goal.

Fair enough. But ironically, the Banana Slugs and their forerunners, the UC Irvine Anteaters, just might be the inspiration for a long-overdue new wave of sports nicknames. Let’s face it, for about a century now we’ve been falling back on the same old Lions, Tigers, Bears, Indians and limited variations of birds, dogs, cats and pirates.

We haven’t even come close to tapping the rich reserves of wildlife that abound on our continent. As far as I know, no athletic team has ever been named after the porcupine, goose-beaked whale, kangaroo rat, hoary bat or knobbed welk, a northern carnivorous shellfish.

We select as team mascots animals that exhibit traits we would like to transfer to the athletes--courage, speed, nobility, ferocity.

But this is a new age. There are new traits we admire, and there is a huge world of critters just waiting to be adopted by teams creative enough to cast off the rusty shackles of tradition.

Some teams are trying. Miami, for instance, named its football team the Dolphins. But what admirable trait does a Dolphin symbolize, except that, unlike a linebacker, it can communicate with humans?

How much more effective it would have been to name the team the Miami Hagfish, after the salt-water scavenger that feeds on dead or dying fish and, when disturbed or handled, secretes a great quantity of slime.

And what about insects? The most cursory leaf-through of “A Field Guide to the Insects of America North of Mexico” yielded a rich vein of potential nicknames. It also infused me with a deeper understanding and appreciation for insects, as well as a strong desire to avoid forests, dark rooms and salad bars.

Let me give you an idea of what’s out there for the adopting. The following insects were chosen either for their sports-like traits or simply because their name has a nice ring, or both:

--Cockroaches. They hide by day and feed at night. They are active and fast and a serious pest, especially in the inner city. The Yankees might want to consider this one.

--Tube-tailed thirps. These are slender and relatively insignificant creatures that feed on fungus spores. Perfect name for any college team, since most undergraduates fit the same description.

--Spiny sucking lice. These little dudes attack seals, sea lions and walruses. We’re talking raw courage here, classic underdogs. Might be a nice alternative to gutty little Bruins.

--Elongate bodied springtails. Tiny wingless insects with great jumping ability. Wouldn’t this be an improvement over Lakers?

--Horse bot flies. These bee-like flies inhabit barns and pastures and are serious pests of horses. A good name for a Middle America ballclub, like Kansas City.

--Creeping water bugs. They inflict a painful bite if handled carelessly, just like Conrad Dobler. A particularly good handle for a water-city team, like the Twins or Mariners, two clubs badly in need of new images.

--Fungus weevils. Robust, and good fliers, and some of them can jump. And from the picture in the book, they’d look great on the front of a uniform.

--Gall-making aphids. An important pest of apple trees, ganging up on the roots to form gall-like growths. To get the idea, picture the Boston Celtics’ defense collapsing on Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

--Scaly bark lice. Active and fast, these fellows have small, soft bodies and bulging faces, making them an ideal symbol for almost any beer-league softball team.

See what I mean? When it comes to great mascots, we haven’t even scratched the surface, if you’ll excuse the expression. There are all kinds of wonderful mammals, reptiles and amphibians out there waiting to be honored on banners, pennants, cheerleader sweaters, beer mugs and stadium cushions.

If teams will only have the courage to look in a new direction for mascots, I think it will bring a new vitality and energy to the overall American sports scene.

More importantly, if all the big-time college and pro teams adopt the names of disgusting and revolting creatures like the ones suggested above, Banana Slugs will lose its shock value and the UC Santa Cruz students will vote to name their sports teams the Bulldogs.