Dude and Dude: Calling Nick Names

banana slug UCSC“Yo, dude!”


“Ya follow football?”

“Dude. It’s more like, football follows me!

“Yeah? Y’mean, like tha NSA?”

“Worse. I tell ya, dude, ya don’t wanna search on anythin’ National Football League fer nothin’! Do it once, and their ads’ll be in yer face, like, ferevah!

“Well, dude, if’n they’re gonna do that, y’may ‘s well have some fun wit’ it, ya know? ‘Member when they changed the name of our high school team?”

“Du-UUUUUUDE!! That wuz horrible! Team had a perfectly gnarly nickname! What’d they wanna go changin’ it fer? Make some grandma happy?!? How ya saposed ta get all enthusiastic like about slime balls? ‘Go Banana Slugs!‘ Ew. No wonder we lost alla our games!”

“Didn’t get no respect, did we, dude? So howsabout we stick names like that on all the NFL teams? They gonna chase us, they gonna pay fer it, yeah?”

Yeah! I like it. Where d’we start?”

“May as well start east and work our way west, young man.”

“Yeah right. New England.”

“Easy, an’ they done it to themselves. The Pat Riots.”

“Is that that flyin’ dude’s name? I thought it was Elvis.”

“He left tha building, ‘member?”

“Oh. Yeah. New York.”

“Which one? There’s two a ’em.”

“Lemme guess. One ‘ve ’em’s tha Midgets.”


“Tha other?”

“The Kitty Hawks. Mebbe they’ll get offa tha ground, mebbe not.”

“Ha ha. Buffalo.”

“Tha Bungalows. Got bungle in it, which given their record over tha past, like, two decades, is perfect. An’ if’n they insist, they can keep their old name too. I can hear tha cheer now: ‘Hey, Bungalow Bills‘ … Unis, all white, home an’ away, wit’ flags ta match.”


“Tha Titmice!

“That’s harsh on tha cheerleaders. Baltimore?”

Carrion Crows.”

“What’re they carryin’?

“Yer carcass, dude. Picked clean. Tha pockets ‘specially.”

“I wuz afraid y’were gonna say that. DC?”

“What else? Tha Shutdowns!

“Tha worrlld is comin’ ta an end, but they keep on playin’! Essential service, I guess.”

“Yeah. Ta their shareholders.”

“Dude. Carolina?”

“The Parakeets!

“They got parakeets in Carolina?”

Not no more, dude.”


“Tha Balcos!

“Tha what?

“Dude. Ya don’t really think any a these football dudes came by their pecs naturally, do ya?”

“Ya wouldn’t give me a bum steer, wouldya?”

“What gauge needle, dude?”

“Not goin’ there! Tampa Bay?”

“Tha Maize Ears. Each one fer a buck. Which is amaizin’. An’, a course, their motto: ‘Tha Buck Stops ‘Ere’.”



“La la la, I can’t ‘ear ya!”



“Tha Preppies!


“Ya been ta Pittsburgh lately? Even tha rivers ‘ve fergotten tha steel foundries. An’ ya don’t think anybody but tha preppies an’ their dads can afford ta actually go to a game, d’ya?”

“Wow. OK, I think I know tha answer ta this one, but I’ll ask anyhow. Saint Louis?”

“What else? Tha Ewes.”

Ewww is right. Dude, this could go on all night, but let’s not an’ say we did, huh? ‘Cept fer one thing. Ain’t there an east coast team we’re fergettin’?”

“Ya mean tha one that used ta be in Miami? It went incognito. An’ just like wit’ tha rest a tha retirees in South Florida, when they, ya know, go missin’, they foreclosed on the condo. We’ll just, like, fergit about ’em.”

“Spare ’em tha embarrassment, dude?”

“They shoulda thought a that before, dude.”


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