Misnomers are common in the English language. Some blackboards are green; people drive on a parkway; and yes, there really is a boy named Sue.
Today, you can add “D.C. United” to that list.
Recently, the District’s soccer club announced its intentions to move away from our nation’s capital in favor of “world renowned” Prince George’s County, Maryland.
The move was little more than a financial necessity for the club. United has consistently lost money ever since it lodged itself in the slightly-better-than-decrepit RFK Stadium, while the local government has pussyfooted its way around solidifying a deal that would bring a new home to the team at Poplar Point in Ward 8.
Despite taking up residence in Maryland, the team plans to keep the name D.C. United. I find this troubling, as the name clearly scorns the welcoming arms of the residents of Prince George’s County.
United’s all-too-familiar story hits close to home for this writer. I grew up in New Jersey, and for as long as I can remember, my family has split New York Jets season tickets with two other families. Three Sundays a year, my family and I got the chance to drive up the Garden State Parkway to East Rutherford, New Jersey, to see the Jets play (and probably disappoint) at their home field, Giants Stadium.
The only reassuring part of the arrangement was that the Jets played in my home state. Even if the team’s misleading name slighted my great state—a state that, in the words of the great American hero Bruce Springsteen, “bears the coolness of being forever uncool”—it became just another reason to have a little more Jersey pride.
But the Jets’ misnomer still carries a certain sting for me and my fellow Jerseyans. Every time a radio or television reporter mentions the New York Jets, the words “if only you know the truth” pass through the collective unconscious of all of us.
To all the towns, cities, and counties that have been slighted by professional sports teams: I feel your pain. Those nominal cities aren’t as great as advertised.
Let me ease your pain, Glendale, Arizona, home to the “Phoenix” Coyotes. After all, the only thing “significant” about Phoenix is an online university. Let me calm your anger, Anaheim, California, home to the “Los Angeles” Angels. Remember, in the spirit of comedian Daniel Tosh, the Angels’ new name is like most of the girls living in Los Angeles—fake. Let me once again preach the greatness of my motherland, New Jersey, a state that houses the “New York” Giants. New Jersey is known as the Garden State for it’s beautiful flowery landscape; New York, well, let’s just say its most striking characteristic is its stench.
Now let me add Prince George’s County, Maryland, to the list. The owners of D.C. United are invading your home turf and planting a seed that doesn’t bear the name of its true tiller. But find solace in the fact that D.C. is not that sexy of a name. Also, you might just gain a little pride knowing that you house the nation’s best-known soccer club. Your county’s pride is worth a lot more than a stupid name. Just ask me—I’m from New Jersey.
Your article was very intetesting. It made me take a look at the Georgetown telephone directory.. There are many Toms and Johns and Chris’s but very few Georges. To follow your logic, perhaps the University should consider changing its name to Tomtown for the sake of accuracy?