THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, October 20, 1995 TAG: 9510200671
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C2 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY ANN G. SJOERDSMA, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 86 lines
The Cleveland Indians versus the Atlanta Braves. Let the tomahawk chop where it may. And may the best ``tribe'' win.
Only one matchup can usher the thought police into the relatively thought-free zone of Major League Baseball, and this one is it, Kemosabe. Other teams go to the birds, the mountains, the heavens, even the sock drawer. Only this Series requires a reservation.
Geronimo! Welcome to the politically incorrect World Series. Watch out for hocks of spit and tasteless puns. Truth be told, were the names mine to rewrite, I would. If there is no offense intended, why risk offense? Names change all the time. (And I'm a longtime Washington Redskins fan.)
Lest you think this is the first such sports faux pas, oh statistical Ken-Burnsheads, compute again. In 1948 these Cleveland Indians upended the then-Boston Braves in six.
But six years later, the Indians were swept in four by the New York Giants, and have refused to appear in another Series until now.
In what World Series did Indians pitcher Satchel Paige make his only appearance? You got it: 1948.
Political correctness had not yet dawned in the post-World War II U.S. of A., of course. Americans were too busy sending off other smoke signals, with big mushroom clouds. If it had, diversity would have demanded that New York play a team from some place other than New York lo those many years. N.Y. Yankees vs. N.Y. Giants. N.Y. Yankees vs. Brooklyn Dodgers. Talk about somethin' rotten in the Big Apple.
But seriously, in baseball, where there are no roses smelling sweet (or in the Hall of Fame), what really is in a name?
Back in 1892, when Cleveland played a championship against the Boston Braves' predecessor - the aptly nicknamed Beaneaters - the tribe was known as the Spiders. Since there were no insects in baseball (other than the owners) for the Spiders to ensnare, Cleveland fans voted after a last-place 1914 season to rename them the Indians. All the better to keep them in the cellar, I guess.
Actually, as the team tells it, the fans were honoring former Spider Louis Sockalexis, a Native American. You can verify that one with Bob Costas.
I view baseball history a bit like Elizabeth Taylor's marital proclivity - temperamental, repetitious, benignly amusing. Amateur, professional; National League, American League. Who can say? Guys just seemed to form teams and started whacking balls. Guys do that.
The Indians, in earlier incarnations, were a.k.a. the Blues (for the color of their uniforms), the Bronchos (pre-Elway and O.J., incorrectly spelled), and the Naps - for star second baseman Napoleon ``Nap'' Lajoie. Enter the ``Indians'' when Nap was released.
As for the Atlanta ``Beans,'' the only club to field a team every year of professional league baseball - I swear, just ask George Will - they first played in 1871 as Boston's Red Stockings. Thereafter, they were Doves and Beaneaters, who metamorphosed, at the suggestion of owner Johnny Montgomery Ward, into Braves, admittedly a bit more fearsome sounding - although phonic jokes do come to mind - than a bowl of baked beans.
This happened in about 1912. Later, the Braves decided to vacation in Milwaukee before settling in Atlanta, in time for the '96 Summer Olympics.
Oh, before they left Milwaukee they did manage to knock off one of those pesky New York teams in 1957, in seven (Yogi, Mickey and company.) But since their '66 Atlanta arrival, the Braves have fallen to twin cities and Canadian blue jays. The Good Ole Beans have been strung, baked, spilled, stalked and bagged. What a field day writers of sports headlinease could have had with the mighty Beaneaters.
How sensitive will the modern-day word-gropers be about this politically incorrect World Series? Will the Indians ``massacre'' the Braves? Will the Braves ``chop,'' ``ax'' - short words are hard to come by - or worse yet, ``scalp'' the tribe? Will they even notice?
Since the betrayal of 1994, it's hard to predict baseball fan or writer behavior. I haven't heard a word of protest about the team names - although one palooka up North reportedly said that anyone who didn't like it ``could go back to where he came from.''
Any way you look at it, come Game 7, when the score is tied in the ninth, it's a game of spider-and-fly, cat-and-mouse, bird-and-worm, Wiley Coyote-and-Road Runner . . . I could go on, but I'll spare you. May the best sportsmen win. MEMO: Ann G. Sjoerdsma is book editor for The Virginian-Pilot. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
ASSOCIATED PRESS
Soon the Tomahawk will chop again in Atlanta, and Chief Wahoo's name
will be invoked in World Series-starved Cleveland.
by CNB