Besides being an incredibly encouraging sign for Tom Crean's team, Ousmane Barro's performance Saturday brought to light a special challenge facing athletes of his nature.
Since the beginning of the basketball season, Barro has been christened "Ooze," so-called by other members of the team, Crean and his coaching staff, the press and the fans. A logical shortening of his first name, "Ooze" is a catchy nickname short, precise and easy to say.
But the moniker comes with a hidden catch. Whenever he enters a game, fans start chanting the nickname over and over again. Everyone who knows Barro's name knows this is an expression of their appreciation of the big man's hustle. But a less knowledgeable spectator might hear the chorus of "Ooze! Ooze! Ooze!" and think something entirely different that the crowd is booing.
While I'm sure Barro knows that they aren't booing, hearing the entire stadium yell a short, mono-syllabic word dominated by the "ooh" sound must present a psychological challenge on some level. I know if I were the "Ooze," I would face recurring bouts of self-doubt every time I entered a game.
Barro's not alone. Utah Jazz forward Carlos Boozer, Pittsburgh Steelers running back Duce Staley and St. Louis Rams wide receiver Isaac Bruce are some of the more notable athletes who have had to deal with the "ooh nickname" blessing/curse.
The same double-edged sword automatically follows around any athlete named Stu, Luke, Sue or June.
I don't even want to think about guys named Chuck.
Although one benefit would be an unconscious conditioning to hearing actual boos from the crowd, a possible advantage when facing a hostile audience on the road, I would do as much as possible to discourage fans from yelling out short "ooh" noises whenever they saw me in the game.
Even if my name were Lou "Moon" Boosoon-Boon, I would do everything in my power to avoid hearing the "oohs" from fans.
I would change my first name to something with an "e" or an "a" sound, and more than one syllable, like Charlotte guard Leemire Goldwire, whose parents had the good sense to insulate from "ooh" sounds via a blanket of consonants, vowels and syllables.
But then, if you play like Chuck, expect to hear lots of Ooze.
This article appeared in The Marquette Tribune on Jan. 25 2005.