The Little Orange

The Indians’ Chief Wahoo is a racist logo. Everyone knows it. Part of his original race was buffed away with a makeover in 1951 so that he’s now more of an ethnic mutt, his feather the only clear indicator of his ancestry. His muted race still offends, though, and the deeper we get into baseball season, the more the Chief Wahoo debate escalates.

Someday Wahoo is going to have to go, but there’s probably some way to get rid of him without losing his essence. For instance, maybe we could ditch the head and keep the scalp? Err, feather? Or make him the Cheshire Chief, a disembodied grin?

The Washington Redskins have taken similar flak for their name and logo, but it seems Chief Wahoo gets a lot more abuse. Perhaps our Chief just needs an injection of nobility? After all, a proud chief in profile is a much better representation of Native Americans, who hardly ever smile.

If we have to ditch Wahoo, can we be the Indians without him? And if we aren’t the Indians, what do we become? The Giant Purple Biological Disasters, as inspired by Slider? Maybe it’s just my Barney rebellion coming back every time I look at him, but man, do I hate that thing.

We’d need a fierce name. I figure that’s why so many sports teams drew on Native Americans for their identities: we respect, even revere, Native Americans as a proud, strong people, and being proud and strong, damn if they’re not dangerous on the turf and the diamond.

But if we’re realists, we can’t very well go on operating under the name of a people who actually exist. Greek gods, maybe. Hmm, how about the Cleveland Olympians? Probably too much of a stretch. The Cleveland River Fires? Too traumatic for the fans. The Cleveland Needles, as in Record? Too oblique. The Cleveland WMDs? Fierce, but I shouldn’t even have typed that.

I think we need to dig down into Cleveland’s soul and draw on what we’re really about, where we come from. I propose this: the Cleveland Slavs. Our logo: a belly. The hotdog race becomes a race between a pierogi, a kielbasa, and sauerkraut. The fierceness? Have you ever eaten all three at once?

Of course, this choice leaves out all the non-Slavic people in Cleveland, and so the controversy becomes one not of racism but of discrimination. Cleveland anguishes for another few decades over its baseball team’s identity until it reveals its new name: the Cleveland Humans. Wow, is that wimpy.