9.27.2026 – karmario fluff

karmario fluff
or sagapolutele
however gifted

“You want to know something?” Karras crossed his knees and put his fingertips together. “I don’t think I would have been much of a football player if I didn’t have a name like Karras. That hard K sound is the key. If my name was Harris, an H instead of a K, and they’d baptized me Alexander . . . with that name, ‘Alexander Harris,’ I’d never have made it as a football player—at least not as a defensive tackle. It’s not a football player’s name. Maybe I could have been a flanker with a name like that . . . but more likely I would have turned out to be the Secretary of the Interior.”

“Would you say this theory was true of other football players?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” he said. “John Unitas. Think of that name. It suggests authority and teamwork. Twenty percent of a football player’s genius is the name he was born with. Leo Nomellini— what does that name bring to mind but power and an afternoon of terror for the guy going in against him? Sam Huff? A guy that’s going to blow you over. Csonka? It sounds like a blow to the gut. Dick Butkus? Look at the collection of consonants—that’s why he’s a great linebacker. If his name was Robin Jenkins, he couldn’t have made it in the Ivy League.”

“Or take the other side of the coin,’ Karras said. “Milt Plum. That’s why Plum was never a great quarterback with the Lions, however gifted he was with natural ability. He was destroyed by his name. His parents probably wanted him to play the cello and take them for picnics up on the hill when they were eighty years old, so they called him Milt. You played bridge with him when you were at Detroit, right?”

That’s right,” I said, “He was very good.”

Karras nodded. “Of course, there’s not much his parents could have done, given that name Plum, but suppose they took out the Milt and called him Jack and spruced him up with a good middle name. Suppose they called him Jack Kong Plum.”

Jack Kong?

“Sure. Some of his aunts might have objected—on the grounds that there weren’t any Kongs they could recall in the Plum family tree, but someone called Jack Kong Plum would have been a helluva quarterback. He’d talk different, and he wouldn’t have played bridge, and he’d walk different with a name like that. He would have started out right in football.”

From Mad Ducks and Bears by George Plimpton (Random House: New York, 1973).

I read Mad Ducks and Bears when I was a little kid and long before I was a football fan.

I grew up in a ‘sports aware’ home where it seems like the Detroit Tigers were on the radio all summer long and Michigan football was on through the fall and on fall Sunday’s, the Detroit Lions were on TV (though my Dad loved to throw a wrench in the works and change the channel over to the AFL to watch Joe Namath and the Jets – but that was just to raise the level of discussion).

But I wasn’t much a fan and didn’t pay much attention to it.

But I read everything.

I read all the books about Gridiron Greats and the Fireside Book of Baseball, and I can’t tell you why.

Maybe it was the sports writing.

Because I was attracted to the writing of George Plimpton, who made a career of taking part in professional sports in order to write about it.

I think I saw his TV special first where he talked about his time with the then Baltimore Colts for the basis of the TV show.

But the show was full of references to his time with the Detroit Lions and a book called Paper Lion.

I read that when I was about 10 and then I read his 2nd book about his friendship with Detroit football players Alex Karras and John Gordy.

It was then that I read the above passage about names.

Names and professional sports.

And it has stuck with me to this day.

Nothing to do with how gifted someone was with natural ability, the player was destroyed by his name.

A little time back, Michigan had a quarterback named Wilton.

Nothing against the guy, but he was doomed.

Way back in 1979, I knew Michigan was in trouble with QB B.J. Dickey and when Rich Hewlett was announced as a surprise starter in the OSU game, I knew the game was over before it started.

Just say it outloud.

BJDICKEY

His parents probably wanted him to play the cello and take them for picnics up on the hill when they were eighty years old, so they called him BJ.

And Rich Hewlett?

Of course, there’s not much his parents could have done, given that name Hewlett.

But call him Jack?

Call him Jack Kong Hewlett and he’d walk different with a name like that. He would have started out right in football.

When the Lions made a splash signing a new QB that had just won the Heisman I was less than thrilled as I knew Joey Harrington just … didn’t have the name.

SO it was fun to read today the column Mandel’s Final Thoughts: USC just can’t do it and Florida might be winner of all Kiffin drama By Stewart Mandel in the New York Times … just for the names.

Texas Tech linebacker Austin Romaine.

UGa Offensive coordinator Buster Faulkner.

Vols freshman Faizon Brandon.

No. 24 Mississippi State QB Kamario Taylor, RB Fluff Bothwell and WR Sanfrisco Magee.

Nebraska’s Anthony Colandrea.

Oklahoma State’s QB Drew Mestemaker.

Cal star QB Jaron-Keawe Sagapolutele.

Utah QB Devon Dampier.

Iowa State QB Rocco Becht.

Indiana RB Lee Beebe Jr.

Boise State QB Maddux Madsen.

Sanfrisco Magee?

Sanfrisco … Magee?

Well okay.

I want to watch a Cal game just to hear the announce say Touchdown Jaron-Keawe Sagapolutele!

That Rocco Becht.

He has started out right in football.

Poor Fluff Bothwell.

But I tell you this.

For a player to made to this level of college football with a name like Fluff … he has to be good.