The magic carpet ride over Anaheim has come to an end.
Henry Samueli, the new owner of the NHL’s Mighty Ducks, is making his mark in the post-Disney era. He’s announced that starting next year the team named after one of the most popular kids’ movies ever will be known simply as “the Anaheim Ducks.”
Samueli conducted a telephone poll in which more than two-thirds of season ticket holders supported the change. They must have finally realized that there’s nothing mighty about a team that’s failed to make the playoffs in eight of the last 11 seasons.
It seems everyone’s happy with the move, though Emilio Estevez and Joshua Jackson couldn’t be reached for comment. Star forward Teemu Selanne says he supports the change because losing the “mighty” part of the moniker makes the team “more of a business.” But what he meant was: “Finally, after all these years, they’ll stop laughing at us.”
Still, over time, the name is bound to be missed. The fact of the matter is sports fans have lost one of their favourite comedic punching bags. But there’s no need to worry, there are plenty more teams with stupid names to make us laugh.
In the NHL, there are the Atlanta Thrashers. Okay, so thrashers do exist, they’re birds. But they’re very little birds, smaller than a sparrow. That’s not exactly a name that strikes fear into the heart of opponents, especially not, say, the Florida Panthers. The New Orleans Zephyrs, a minor-league baseball team, have the same problem. A zephyr is a soft westerly breeze. “The Pillowfeathers” is a tougher-sounding name.
Then there are the Ducks’ cross-town cousins, the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, victims of sport’s most famous identity crisis. With two cities in their team’s name, it’s a wonder fans can even find the stadium.
Of course, baseball fans in Philadelphia don’t have that problem. In case you missed it, the team’s called the Phillies. Oh, and they play in Philadelphia, by the way. To whoever came up with the name, as well as those who dreamed up the Utah Utes and Illinois Fighting Illini: a little more effort, please.
There are also those teams that want to make sure there’s no ambiguity over what sport you’re watching. Fans of basketball’s New Jersey Nets won’t make the mistake of thinking they’re at a jai-alai match. Ditto for supporters of the USHL’s Indiana Ice.
The owners of the minor-league baseball Rancho Cucamonga Quakes, on the other hand, get full marks for effort. Earthquakes are a local phenomenon — and they’re scary. But no one can ever take you seriously if you’re from Rancho Cucamonga.
For the truly outlandish, though, one can always turn to the NCAA. The American college league features about eight teams that claim to be ‘golden,’ as in Golden Badgers and Golden Bears. Who makes golden mascots intimidating? If you come across a golden bear in the woods, you don’t run, you sit there wondering what kind of crazy millionaire would gold-plate a live animal. How much would a golden bear fetch at a pawn shop?
All of the above would be worthy candidates for the worst team name of all time. But that honour must go to the Memphis Tams of the old American Basketball Association.
That’s right, tams, as in those goofy Scottish hats. It’s not just that someone named their team after a piece of clothing, it’s that there’s absolutely no relationship between Scotland, Memphis, and basketball.
That said, I wouldn’t mind seeing a hulking carbre-tosser try his hand at a dunk. Let’s just hope he doesn’t show up in a kilt.