I Must Say

I must say, I never expected to read another accounting of the 45' beached sperm whale that was blown to kingdom come with half a ton of dynamite off the coast of Oregon to aid in its disposal, and certainly not read about it in conjunction with a minor league baseball team in Oregon that has adopted an exploding whale logo as their mascot, and sold enough T-shirts worldwide to financially float the team. 

But, we live in an age of merchandising, or as they say, "merch," where the money in sports is not in tickets sales, TV deals, or advertising, but rather in what they can sell you to wear as authentic something or other.

Again, The Wall Street Journal's A-Hed piece has provided the basis for another posting, this piece appearing in Friday's paper, front page, as usual. The piece, titled: In Baseball, Sultry Is New Scrappy; Minor Leagues go for major raunch to draw fans; Baseball Mascots Get Ballsy is about creating team names that have snap to them. And are almost automatic double entendres for announcers to play with.

When I got to the part of the story that told of a minor league team in Oregon going for the nostalgic blow up to recognize that too much dynamite was used I knew I had heard of the story somewhere, sometime ago, and that I made reference to it in a posting. I was right. A November 15, 2022 posting riffed on the story that I read about in a Twitter (X) Tweet.

The A-Hed reporter Patrick Coffee tells us the Eugene, Oregon Emeralds tripled their merchandising revenue to $1 million last season when they rebranded themselves as the Exploding Whales. I kid you not.

The logo is a reference to an event in November 1970, when a coastal Oregon town, Florence, was faced with having to dispose of an eight ton, beached 45' sperm whale that washed ashore and couldn't be saved.  Disposing of beached whales is not really a science, and certainly a lot depends on how large they are.

The video link in the posting made by @RexChapman is priceless. The job of removing the whale fell to the highway department, and their man-on-the-scene freely admits he doesn't know if the half ton of dynamite will do the job so sufficiently that the remaining debris will be eaten by the seagulls. Nope.

Chucks of blubber flew a quarter of a mile and flattened cars in a parking lot. A second detonation was called off, and bulldozers were called in when the seagulls were not interested in organically disposing of the blubber. What good are they?

In all fairness, given the size of the whale, there would certainly be doubt on how to get rid of it. In 1970 the Internet could not be relied on for guidance on beached whale disposal. And the highway department likely had zero experience in disposing of whales. Blasting through mountains yes; whales, not so much.

Eugene, Oregon is 60 miles inland east of Florence. It has no ocean frontage, but that didn't prevent the general manger of the team, Alan Benavides from taking the opportunity of identifying with a novel event that apparently is still rooted in Oregon's history.

The A-Hed  piece leads off with the story of the Danville Dandies, a summer collegiate league team in Danville, Virginia, in the heart of their dairy farms, that has adopted a decked out bull that might he an attempt to create a hunky mascot that resembles a four-legged Times Square Naked Cowboy, or a Chippendale dancer with a bat, whose tight jeans are an advertisement for virility. 

There are other teams that have taken to renaming themselves with a little bit of implied spice. Take in California, The Rancho Cucamonga Quakes, an L.A. Dodger affiliate, is now the Chaquetas hoping to attract the Hispanic fan base.

What I first found interesting is that the spelling for Chaquetas is unlike the spelling for the bananas, Chiquita. Spelled either way, the definition of Chequeta is a young, Spanish female, hopefully fetching looking. Turns out, chaqueta in Spanish slang can also mean masturbation according to those who follow these things. Undeterred, the team chose to still call themselves the Chaquetas.

The team in Madison, Alabama, near Huntsville has combined Huntsville's aerospace nickname with slang for garbage-gobbling raccoons and branded themselves as the Rocket City Trash Pandas. They sold over $4 million in merchandise before their first game in 2021. Some people will apparently wear anything on their chest.

My son-in-law Tim has advised me that the NHL has embarked on a naming contest for the soon-to-moved Phoenix Coyotes to Salt Lake City. They will start play without a nickname, but will get to adopting one as the new  season progresses next year.

I did send @NH.com a link to my posting of April 25, 2024 where I offer possible names based on Utah's history. Also linked is a posting on Utah's flag, a bee hive with mountains in the background. I will be formally entering my suggestions to the NHL

I don't know much about Sharon, Massachusetts, but if they have a minor league baseball team, or are going to get one, I will suggest a naming, for whatever team sport they develop: The Exploding Tree Stumps. You have to be a real archivist to understand how this name might be appropriate, but you've come to the right person.

On May 15, 2012 I posted a blog about a tree warden who in that town in 1912 was using dynamite to remove tree stumps. The story went that he sat down on a stump for a break and somehow detonated the stick of dynamite in his back pocket. The theory was the dynamite came in contact with a stone, creating a spark.

It was not a thousand pounds of dynamite blowing up a beached whale, but the explosion was heard for a great distance, rattling windows and giving the undertaker in town a sure challenge.

Through the magic of Google earth it is possible to get a, aerial view of Sharon, MA, a small New England town of 19,000 not too far outside of Boston. There are a lot of trees. It is not known if the town erected anything to mark the unfortunate accident, but Thomas J. Leary might be buried in a local cemetery.  Probably near a tree.

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