Of all possible names for Indians, 'champions' is best

Of all possible names for Indians, 'champions'  is best
                        

On the cusp of opening day 2020 for the Cleveland Indians, I find myself wondering if this is the last time I will be rooting for the “Indians” to start a baseball season. It seems that in all likelihood, the front office will change the name, especially now that the national focus will shift to them since the uber-racist Washington Redskins name and logo has changed.

The Indians, along with the Atlanta Braves and Kansas City Chiefs, have some real soul searching to do, appeasing fan bases hell-bent on tradition while joining the rest of the world in being more culturally aware. As a longtime fan, with what I find myself most struggling is that I am not quite sure how to feel about it.

I worked as an usher for the Indians during their 2007 and '08 summer campaigns; seeing the inner workings of the ballpark, players coming and going from the clubhouse, the pictures and murals plastering both the exterior and interior of the stadium, as well as the maze of tunnels underneath, leaves a fan with a genuine sense of history, pride and attachment in our hometown team.

Since that time I have plastered our family breezeway with enough Indians signs, pennants, memorabilia and photos to open my own team shop. It is our summer room, as we listen to Tommy Hamilton gloriously call the games. The point I guess I am trying to make is that many have an investment in the Tribe, me included, and it is not as easy as simply dismissing the name because it is offensive.

Part of the issue is that I am saddened the Tribe front office let it get to this point. Terry Pluto, the heralded Akron/Cleveland sports writer, said in his column from July 11, “At least 10 times between in-person talks and newspaper stories, I pushed (Indians owner) Dolan about the idea of hiring several top tribal artists and having them draw a logo for the team. Pick the top five and have the fans vote.”

His point was that he had spent many summers on Wyoming’s Wind River Reservation talking with tribal leaders, none of whom seemed offended by the name “Indians,” as opposed to being greatly offended by the Chief Wahoo logo. I am not sure why the Dolans would not have at least considered this inclusive idea. It is not as if they were too busy expanding their payroll.

Nevertheless, I know when the decision comes, and it will, the sentimental side of me will miss the name. In an age where a player-on-a-team allegiance and loyalty is all but forgotten, the minute a contract is up, team names are often all the fans can hold onto.

Folks who so easily dismiss this loyalty probably have not experienced what it is like for an 8-year-old kid to get an autograph on a baseball card from a childhood hero — a baseball card where the team name is always bigger than the player’s name. That is sometimes from where the allegiance comes — a memory harkening us back to our youth.

But, and this is a big but, my middle-aged brain wonders what actual joy the Indians have brought us. Unless you were around in their last championship season of 1948, consider: have the Indians accomplished much, in terms of what so many of us long for, since? I can tell you the answer to this question. In the 72 years since their last championship, they have produced four American League Pennants, 10 Central Division titles and zero World Championships.

Yes, there are the stalwart sports moments of the 1990s, Rajai Davis’ two-run dinger off Aroldis Chapman in Game 7 of the 2016 World Series, the streak in 2017, even the cavernous, empty Municipal Stadium of my youth and a brief glimmer of hope for the 1986 season when they actually made it above .500. As indelible and important as so many of these moments are in our minds, all of these seasons ended in the same way: with the Indians losing.

So maybe this is me trying to rationalize and ultimately accept the name change.

Maybe a new name and a new look will change the Cleveland baseball mojo. The Spiders? The Guardians? The Naps? The Fellers? Or my personal favorite, the Cleveland “Players-To-Be-Named-Later.” Who knows? Regardless of what comes along, I am hopeful, in some way, they will honor the history, legacy and tradition of our team and our town.

I have been to seven different ballparks. Seeing a ballgame in Cleveland is a unique experience, and it will be heartbreaking if they cannot figure out a way/purpose for John Adams to still bang that drum in Section 183: Row Y of the left-field bleacher seats.

I know, whatever decision is made, I will eventually come to grips with the new name. Just like the annual start of a baseball season, every year as I prepare to teach Shakespeare, I am reminded, “A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.” Let’s hope, whatever that new name may be, it brings us the sweet smell of a championship.


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