They Should Sound Like Winners, Too

What’s in a name? the bard asked.

Well, in big-time sports, plenty. A rose by any other name might smell as sweet in the garden, but on the playing field, the name sometimes makes the game.

You ask yourself, would Ruth have been as legendary if he went by George? Did a name like Willie Mays help him in his duels for attention with, say, Roberto Clemente? Or even Henry Aaron? Rogers Hornsby really had to be good. Ty Cobb didn’t. Short, punchy names always fill the bill. Pete Rose had to be exactly what he was. Jack Dempsey almost had to be a fighter. Walker Smith had to become Sugar Ray Robinson before he could even get noticed.

Could Dick Butkus have been anything else but a red-meat-eating linebacker? “If his name was Robin Jenkins,” Alex Karras was to write, “he couldn’t have made it in the Ivy League.” Did Larry Csonka really want to be a bone-crushing fullback or was he pulled along by that collection of syllables? Could a Larry Csonka have really gone into interior decorating?

The sport of horse racing is no different. The name should fit the game.

Which is why, today, I’m glad to report to you from Churchill Downs, site of the 116th Kentucky Derby this Saturday, that we’re already ahead of the game. We have already run a horse called Smelly out of the lists.

Now, I don’t know about you, but the notion of a horse called Smelly being on an honor roll of great Derby champions gives me a stomachache. It’s a one-hour joke and a lifetime embarrassment.

I’m just as glad we got a horse called Champagneforashley out of there, too. I mean, what kind of a name is that for a he-horse?

That’s a name for some la-dee-dah filly--or a character in a Louisa May Alcott novel. It’s the worst name for a class male horse since Jaklin Klugman, who had the gall to finish third in the 1980 Derby. Calling a colt Jaklin is like calling a filly Butch.

We don’t want a winner where you have to wrinkle your nose to pronounce his name, either.

Look! Who was the greatest racehorse in history? Man o’ War, right? Not Stinky or Yucky or Beerforbambi or Ugly, but Man, by god, o’ War. A champion’s name. He couldn’t help but be good. A name to rank with Cobb, Rose, Ruth, Dempsey.

Just as in baseball, short names seem to make it. Try Swaps. Swale. A pity Sham came along in Secretariat’s year. There have been some great one-name winners in Kentucky Derby history--Needles, Zev, Citation, Ponder, Swale. Affirmed. There have been some elegantly named runners. Aristides. Secretariat. Exterminator. Lord Murphy. Gallahadion. Run those around your tongue.

There have been some charmingly named winners. Iron Liege in 1957. Nice name, so-so horse. Gallant Fox. Count Fleet.

There have been colts named after cities. Spokane won in 1889, Kingman in 1891, Baden-Baden in 1877, Omaha in 1935 and Johnstown in 1939.

Twenty Grand was a vintage name, the ’31 winner. Cavalcade cut it in ’34.

Sometimes, the horse didn’t fit the name. Dust Commander was an OK name but not much horse in 1970 when he won. Cannonade wasted a good name in 1974.

While no horse with the thoroughly objectionable name of Smelly ever won it, there have been a few infelicitously named winners. I always thought Genuine Risk was a boring name for a champion filly. Winning Colors would have been OK for a winning colt but she was female.

Lucky Debonair was kind of yucky for any kind of horse. I didn’t like Kauai King all that much. Spend a Buck was a frivolous name for a 3-year-old champion. Chateaugay didn’t thrill you much.

The winners had better names in antiquity. Ben Ali, Donerail, Reigh Count, Burgoo King, Pensive, War Admiral, Shut Out, Whirlaway.

Sometimes, even the non-winners had winning names. Mate (third in 1931), Brevity, Discovery. Avatar should have won in 1975 if for nothing else than it would have kept Foolish Pleasure (yeccch!) off the victory board. Phalanx should have been a winner. So should Pompoon or Reaping Reward.

We’ve been pretty much spared men’s names. Clyde Van Dusen came home in 1929 and George Smith in 1916, but mostly we have been free of this indignity. A horse called Joe Morris failed in 1910. So did a Bill Letcher and an Ed Tierney and a Billy Kelly and James Reddick and George Lewis. Mel Leavitt was 17th in 1954, and we dodged a bullet with Jaklin Klugman in ’80. Maybe we’ll be spared Dr. Bobby A. this year. We can always hope.

Fortunately, we’ve been spared some bad names by horses with the good grace to lose. Stephan’s Odyssey, second in ‘85, doesn’t do much for the literature of the track. Bally Ache was a great horse, bad name. It was hard to work up any literary enthusiasm for a horse called Valdina Orphan or Rancho Lejos or Avies Copy. It was too bad Palestinian couldn’t have done better, or Round Table, but you have to be glad T.V. Commercial failed while Ferdinand didn’t. The Jockey Club insists only that a name include no more than 18 letters and three words, not offend the bounds of good taste and presumably not advertise the owner’s or trainer’s--or any--business. A horse called Budweiser is out of the question. So is a horse named Dr. Schlesinger-Eye, Ears, Nose and Throat, or a horse called EatattheBonTon. A horse called Big Mac might not make it today. Neither would a horse called Toyota or NBC or even ReadTheTimes.

While the starting gate is relatively free of stomach-turning monikers this year, the purist can’t help but reflect on what might have been. Out of the race are such delicious names as Rhythm, Red Ransom, Grand Canyon, Roanoke, Yonder, Adjudicating and, maybe saddest of all, Housebuster.

A Derby horse has to be fast, durable, courageous and indomitable. Why not give him a name that fits? Fast. Durable. Courageous. Indomitable. And except for the fact the Jockey Club won’t let you name a horse after a famous horse, what’s wrong with Man o’ War II? We can have multiple Popes, kings, Super Bowls and Rocky movies, why not Mans o’ War?