The links between sport and language are well documented, from the maxims of Yogi Berra to the antanaclases of Martin St-Louis (giving a word two different meanings in the same sentence, as in his famous “T’amènes ta game to the game “). But in this wonderful world of sports, we almost never talk about onomastics, the branch of lexicology that deals with proper nouns. Still surprising when we think of the effect that a single word, “Bruins”, can have on the general mood of the Canadiens’ supporters.
A new professional women’s hockey league, the LPHF, created in August 2023, began operations in early January. For almost two months, I’ve been trying to take an interest in what’s going on there, while asking myself the following question: is it really a good idea to ask the average fan and minor hockey girls to s identify with a Montreal team that bears the name “Team Montreal”? This is what we call, in plain French, a redundancy.
As I write this, none of the six LPHF teams have a proper team name. However, we have made enough fun, in the NFL, of “Washington Team” (the ex-Redskins and future Commanders) not to find this choice – or this absence of choice – a little strange.
Last Wednesday, having gone back to Lennoxville, I drove along the Bishop’s University stadium, decorated with enormous letters proclaiming this territory ” Home of the Gaiters “, when, on the radio, I heard the hosts of a popular show soliciting public participation to find a name for the CH’s first trio. I would like to believe that Caufield, Suzuki and Slafkovský are on fire, but a Flanelle attack line would be entitled to its own nickname while the 26 Montrealers of the LPHF would continue to evolve under the banner of a platitude worthy of cotton tongue? And why not replace the players with “people wielding a gouret”, a good idea?
It was too much. I decided to take the day off and fix the problem.
Once verified, team names – perhaps on an exploratory basis – were indeed attached to these six clubs last October. Clearly, communication is not the new league’s strong point. After leaking to the media and causing some raised eyebrows in the cities concerned, the new names give the impression of having simply been withdrawn from circulation.
On this point, it is difficult to prove the LPHF wrong after taking even a quick glance at the hidden list below: Montreal Echo, Ottawa Alert, Toronto Torch, Minnesota Superior, Boston Wicked, New York Sound.
Beyond its beautiful bilingual virtue except for one accent, this Echo had the fault of resonating in an absolute void: echo of what, of a Toyota? “ Wicked » (bad guys) perhaps passed the test in the city of “bines”, in a nod to the Big Bad Bruins of another era. It remains to be seen what players in a league where not only fighting, but even body checking, are prohibited to earn such a nickname. And then, do we really want to hear local fans bitching at the expense of the “big torches” from Toronto?
How do you come up with a good team name, anyway? By drawing on local culture and history, as the New Orleans Saints did in football, named after an old hit by Louis Armstrong to pay tribute to the jazz soul of their city.
There is also the bestiary, from which all team sports draw abundantly and which has the merit of reminding us that the collective, going back to ancient beliefs, to unite, even more than a familiar name, needs a totem. The Baltimore Ravens can have it both ways, since their avian emblem comes from a poem by Edgar Allan Poe. It’s a very good team name.
For “Team Montreal”, finding a name that respects the rules of French, a notoriously gendered language, presents an additional difficulty. If we use the epicene, we use a feminine term, which immediately excludes considerable fauna: lynx, caribou, owls, etc. But not the owls.
So the Snow Owls? Or the Boreal Owls? Too long. The Owls would already be prettier, but who, exactly, knows the Tengmalm Owl? And why not quite simply: the Montreal Boréales? There would be no need to go out of your way to find a brewer sponsor.
Les Sarcelles would have the advantage of reminding us that Montreal is located in the middle of a freshwater archipelago, in addition to evoking a very beautiful song by Vigneault. Let’s see, what are the other wildlife resources of Quebec, if we exclude geese, wild turkeys and grouse? Trout. The Speckled? I have it: the Montreal Rainbow. More inclusive than that, you degender your unborn grandchildren.
Of course, we could also go by ear and opt for the sound poetry of Ouananiches, a magnificent Quebecism moreover. But wait, the Innu aren’t going to accuse us of linguistic appropriation? While we’re at it, let’s skate in the direction of history with the Yakonkwe (“women” in Mohawk) of the unconceded territory of Hochelaga!
What if we looked, precisely, from the side of history? The Hospitallers, the Suffragettes, the Polys (for Polytechnique)? A simple copy of a male counterpart, “les Canadiennes” is hardly satisfactory. A word suddenly surfaces in my consciousness, a beautiful word of desire and cold: the Montreal Storm. The ice of Quebec will be anything but welcoming to the She-Wolves of Minnesota, the Queens of Toronto, the Governors General of Ottawa, the Badass of Boston and the Big Apple of New York.
I have the green light from my focus group.