Williams: For baseball team’s mascot, look to the river

Now that we're naming names, which of the six options should be chosen as the moniker for our new baseball team?

First, let's silence talk about the Richmond Hush Puppies.

What would the mascot be? A fried cornmeal ball? A suede shoe? Hush Puppies' trade mark basset hound?

I like the new owners' desire to follow the minor league trend toward quirky names. But that name should connect with our hometown.

Another finalist is the Hambones. But it's Smithfield that's known for ham (and ham bones), not Richmond.

Another contender, Rhinos, is a triumph of alliteration over reason. There's nothing quirky about the name other than the absurdity of applying it to a Richmond team.

Richmond Metro Zoo in Chesterfield County has three rhinos. That's three more than Maymont, which features wildlife indigenous to Virginia.

"No rhinos. They're not native to Virginia," said Carla Murray, Maymont's assistant director of marketing and public relations. "We do have flying squirrels."

Which brings us to our fourth finalist. But Flying Squirrels doesn't exactly scream "River City," does it? And that is exactly what we should be screaming. After all, the James is one asset we can rally around.

The remaining finalists -- Rock Hoppers and Flatheads -- reflect the James River's vital role in providing us with food, water and recreation.

I like the sound, but not the sight, of Rock Hoppers. It suggests nothing visual.

Flatheads? It clearly links the team to Richmond and the river that runs through it.

The flathead is a breed of catfish that populates the James. They're also known as Shovelheads, Yellow Cats and Mud Cats -- all of which, frankly, might be better names for our team.

The latter is already part of baseball lore. Who could forget the colorful Mudcat Grant, the all-star pitcher whose career spanned three decades? Unfortunately, the Southern League's Carolina Mudcats already own the name.

But Flatheads could work. Imagine the marketing possibilities: The team colors could be mud brown and algae. Pillbox caps -- flathead, get it? -- could be embroidered with a fearsome catfish logo. A fan-friendly version might include actual whiskers extending from the hat.

While we're linking this team to the river that gave Richmond life, how about taking the next logical step?

The team's owners are investing in a facelift to make The Diamond usable, but a long-term ballpark solution will require tens of millions of dollars regardless of where it's built.

The Diamond site is as safe and predictable as an intentional walk. The team's owners sound like they're up for something adventurous.

We've made the commitment to baseball. When the sun finally peeks through the dark economic clouds, let's build a ballpark someplace special.

If we're going to chant, "Let's go, fish!" what better spot than on the river?

Contact Michael Paul Williams at (804) 649-6815 or .