Baseball great Shoeless Joe Jackson made news recently when he and others who had been banned from the sport for life were posthumously reinstated by Commissioner Rob Manfred.
That makes Jackson eligible for the Baseball Hall of Fame. Whether he gets in – his .356 career batting average puts him fourth among all-time leaders – remains to be seen, but for sure, his intriguing nickname has Hall-of-Fame quality.
So where did it come from – did he actually play barefoot?
Not exactly.
The famous moniker popped up after Jackson’s minor-league manager in South Carolina gave him a new pair of cleats. A kind gesture, but when the stiff footwear began to hurt, Jackson strode to an at-bat in his socks.
He stroked a hit, and lore has it that when an onlooker shouted, “Look at that shoeless SOB run,” the name stuck.
Jackson, who died in 1951, was one of eight members of the 1919 White Sox accused of throwing the World Series. They were acquitted of criminal charges, but banned for life by Baseball Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis.
The current commissioner, declaring that lifelong bans end at a player’s death, also reinstated the all-time hit leader, Pete Rose.
Banned for gambling on baseball when he managed the Cincinnati Reds, Rose, because of his intensity as a player, earned a nickname of his own – “Charlie Hustle.”
Baseball is replete with colorful nicknames, some of which – we’ll get to them in a minute – reflect our contemporary digital culture.
As for traditional labels, the Most Valuable Player for nicknames might be George Herman Ruth, who had five of them: Babe, the Bambino, the Sultan of Swat, and occasionally, the King of Sting and the Colossus of Clout.
But anyway, whence “Babe?”
There are numerous theories, many revolving around his relative youth when he signed his first professional contract at age 19.
By contrast, getting on in years provided a nickname for White Sox Hall-of-Famer Luke Appling, who got hurt so much over a 20-year career that they called him “Old Aches and Pains.”
Journeyman infielder Mike Hargrove fidgeted so much at bat, adjusting his helmet and gloves and tugging his sleeves, that he became known as “The Human Rain Delay.”
Over the years ball parks have been home to a variety of creatures: Ron Cey, because of his odd gait, was “the Penguin;” Lou Gehrig because of his endurance was the “Iron Horse;” and former Red Sox manager Don Zimmer, because of his moon face and chewing habits, was “The Gerbil.”
Others answered to the likes of Rabbit, Bird, Hawk, Mule, Moose, Gator, Crab, Goose, Ducky, and Catfish.
Rather than stumble over the last name of pitcher Mark Rzepczynski, players on several of his teams simply called him “Scrabble.”
While Fenway Park is among the most traditional of ballyards, two Red Sox minor league brothers are taking nicknames into cyber territory.
Don’t bother struggling with the first name of 22-year-old outfielder Jhostynxson Garcia. It’s pronounced Yos-TIN-son, but he’s already known by a nickname that computes much easier – he’s “Password.”
His brother, catcher Johanfran (Yo-HAN-fron) Garcia, 20, is just as contemporary with his informal handle, “Username.”
Maybe those nicknames don’t carry the flair of “Tomato Face,” appended to outfielder Nick Cullop because his face turned scarlet when he got mad, or “The Big Hurt,” descriptive of hulking first baseman Frank Thomas.
Still, if “Password” and ‘Username” can someday take a byte or two out of Red Sox mediocrity and help get the team rebooted, more power to them.
Gerry Goldstein (gerryg76@verizon.net), a frequent contributor, is a retired Providence Journal editor and columnist.