Naming Rights
Ten minutes before kick-off in Leicester’s Heineken Cup clash against Ospreys, midfielder Dan Hipkiss withdrew from the starting xv due to injury. In stepped an unknown 20 year old to make his full debut for the Tigers, Billy Twelvetrees.
A try and nine points with the boot later, and every newspaper in the country with a headline specialist was clambering to go to print. On the Monday following the match the sporting media overflowed with puns exploiting all things foliage, making it difficult to ever hope to see Twelvetrees in the spotlight again. In acting and modelling circles, the media race to christen new talent with clever names, but in rugby – as with all team sports – the nicknames come from team mates and the fans.
The names that crop up in rugby circles are not just a reflection of personal attributes; they also give great insight into the vernacular of an individual’s homeland. South Africans have had some of the most colourful nicknames over the years, though few outside the country would appreciate the richness of such names as Windhond Muller, Vleis Visagie and Draadkar de Lange. In today’s Currie Cup the torch has been passed to the brilliantly named Windpomp van Rooyen and Ligtoring Landman.
Derick Hougaard was for many years the jewel of Loftus Versfeld, and the stands would break into a rousing bout of ‘Liefling’ every time the former Blue Bull kept the scoreboard ticking over in Pretoria. Loftus will see many more flyhalves, but that name will stick with Hougaard for life. On the other side of the Super 14, new Force signing Andre Pretorius has been picked up for his cocked eyebrow in the lead up to his goal kicking, and some fans now refer to him as ‘Blue Steel’.
In the forwards, South Africa’s recent production line of memorably named props has churned out Toks van der Linde, Ollie le Roux, Baksteen Nel and Os du Randt among others, and these days there is barely a stadium in the world that doesn’t break into a dull roar of ‘Beeeast’ every time Durban’s favoured son is involved in a play. Mtawarira’s French equivalent in terms of cult status would have to be ‘Homme des Cavernes’ – the Caveman. Sebastian Chabal is himself a well-publicised figure around the world, and is recognised by even those who don’t watch rugby.
But not all nicknames that originate from physical attributes are flattering. Gareth Thomas, Wales’ centurion, answers to the alias ‘Alfie’ due to an unfortunate resemblance to the hairy alien ‘Alf’ from the tv show of the same name. Former England centre Will Greenwood is called ‘Shaggy’ after a teammate pointed out how much he looked like Scooby Doo’s best mate. When Greg Somerville was in the New Zealand colts’ side with Xavier Rush, he was christened ‘Yoda’ – his protestations only serving to cement the name. Though the most unflattering nickname was picked up by All Black hooker Anton Oliver, who, after a few years in the front row had ruined any chance of a modelling contract coming his way, was mercilessly taunted with ‘Grenade Face’.
Sometimes the nicknames go deeper than looks. Justin Harrison was called a ‘plank’ by travelling opponent Austin Healy during the 2001 Lions tour to Australia, a name that has stuck with him. As has ‘Googy’ – Aussie slang for an egg, as he was apparently swiftly identified as a bad egg early in his career. All Black Christian Cullen had the official tag of ‘Paekakariki Express’, a gallant play on his speediness around the park, but Cullen was apparently not too sharp: behind the scenes he was reportedly referred to as ‘Beer Bottle’ as he was ’empty from the neck up’.
Perhaps the most famous nickname belongs to John Eales. A man who scrummed, dominated the lineouts, performed other pack duties and still found the time to slot Tri Nations winning penalty kicks collected the most respected of nicknames: ‘Nobody’ (though Eales has reportedly said that he cannot recall ever being called this by teammates). One of Eales’ former colleagues, Stephen Larkham, was given the moniker ‘Bernie’ – named after the corpse from “Weekend at Bernie’s” due to his laid back nature and all-round disinterest in excitement.
The antithesis to Larkham’s lethargic demeanour was Brian Lima, Samao’s bone-shuddering midfield tackler who, unfortunately for his opponents, managed to stretch his career over the span of five world cups. To find out whether or not he deserved his nickname, you only need to speak to the aforementioned Derick Hougaard. During a 2003 world cup group-stage match Hougaard was the unlucky recipient of a rather lofty offering from Joost van der Westhuizen in broken play. Hougaard remembers stretching his arms skyward to catch the pass, seeing “The Chiropractor” out of the corner of his eye, and probably little else.
The international stars’ nicknames remind us that those who play at the top level are no different from any group of guys that gets together every Saturday to play the game, and that being the best in their respective countries doesn’t shield them from the banter that exists in all changerooms around the world; the greatest afterthought of team sports.
And as for Twelvetrees? Well he is now known as ’36’ on the training paddock at Leicester. He hadn’t been there for long before skipper Geordon Murphy gave him the nickname. When Twelvetrees asked after the origins of the name, Murphy replied (in his Irish drawl): “Well, in Ireland, twelve threes are thirty-six.”
