With a Z

Half the fun of being a sports fan is ruminating on the names of the athletes. In baseball, Derek Jeter is a strong moniker. The guy has to be good. Someone named Josh Willingham should be lounging alongside the first tee at the country club as opposed to being in the batting cage. In football, Quentin Jammer is an all-Pro defensive back. With a tough-sounding name like that, receivers run the other way to avoid him. Fellow footballer Chad Pennington is an oft-injured quarterback who is about as scary as Ty Pennington building homes for the downtrodden. In hockey, our Flyers would not be in the Stanley Cup finals without Chris Pronger. "Keep your head up on the ice, or Chris will "prong" you." Michel "Bunny" LaRoque never won a Cup as goalie for the Canadiens though his would be a great name for an exotic dancer. While listening to Sports Radio yesterday, I heard what may be the Greatest Sports Name Of All Time. Hercules Gomez was among those chosen for the US World Cup soccer team. Now there's a name. I envisioned a bearded giant clad in a lion skin and carrying a giant club - the classic Hercules. Or perhaps the muscular movie star of the 50s whose dialogue never quite matched his lip movements - Steve Reeves. Or even the sensitive, though still "ripped" 90s TV Hercules - Kevin Sorbo. Any of these three Hercules would totally intimidate those wimpy foreigners and bring the World Cup to The Land of the Free.

My hopes were shattered when today's newspaper showed the actual spelling of Mr Gomez's name. It's Herculez, with a z. He might as well be named Britney, Caitlyn, or Krystal. Unique name spelling may raise a child's sense of self-worth ("I'm different from all the other Brittany(s) in my class!") but it does not intimidate on the field of play. The last great hope for American soccer is foiled by a single "z".