A young girl suggested the name for the planet Pluto in 1930. BuzzBee, the Cheerios mascot, was named by a kid in 1999. Anyone could name something big or small back then.

The Utah Jazz were born from New Orleans music, but the Utah Hockey Club is jettisoning the current Coyotes name and starting fresh.

For ages, sports franchises have drummed up excitement from the fan base by letting them think they have a say in it: the “name your team” contests. The voting should carry a disclaimer: “Results are subject to final approval by the owners.”

The Seattle Mariners were supposedly named by a local resident before the inaugural game in April 1977. But nobody could locate the man at the address on his letter to award him a pair of season tickets, and the description he gave for why the Mariners name worked seems straight out of a public relations brochure. (Journalists claim to have finally found the man out of state 45 years later.)

The Cleveland Indians being renamed the Guardians? Apparently they talked with civic groups. Would they revive the Spiders name? The process in 2021 was shrouded in secrecy and we ended up with the Guardians. Some choices were knocked out by their attorneys due to trademark issues, the owners claimed. They landed on the Guardians after the statues on a local bridge. Seems more likely they searched for a word with the same 5 letters at the end as Indians and backed into the reason later.

These days, I don’t think people are naïve enough to believe the franchises will be named anything other than what their owners desire. Yes, some sports fans fall for it every time — aided by the giddy local TV news, radio stations and newspapers.

My favorite example is the Washington Wizards.

When the then-Bullets sought a new, nonviolent name, they asked fans to vote on the finalists, including the Dragons, Express, Stallions, the (eventual winner) Wizards and one off-the-rim clunker: the Sea Dogs.

The Don & Mike radio show organized a protest vote for the Sea Dogs, referring to barnacled career seamen, knowing the team had no intention of choosing the zany name.

The final tally was never released. But many believed the Sea Dogs earned the most votes.

Similarly, the most popular contest name for the Minnesota basketball team was the Blizzard, but the team preferred two other names — the (eventual winner) Timberwolves and the Polars, according to the NBA’s website. (It conveniently omits the Blizzard part.)

One thing’s for sure: They’re not leaving it to chance. Who knows the reason. Maybe there’s too much money involved, or the people in charge have egos too large to listen to regular folks voting online.

And the larger the market, the safer they play it. The New York Mets came from a contest, they say.

Hey, at least we got the New Orleans Pelicans in basketball (the state bird is the brown pelican).

Sports branding needs greater creativity. More pluck. The Utah Yetis name rocks. I loved Seattle’s choice of the Kraken too. The WNBA’s upcoming Golden State Valkyries went bold too.

So the next time an ownership group or corporate behemoth says votes will determine the new team, like the Yetis or Venom, don’t believe it until you read the final press release! Long live the Sea Dogs.

Adam Silbert lives in New York City. He writes about sports.

Newsletter