Does More Name Equal More Game? Yes! My God, Yes!

Editor's Note: This is the author's response to the title question posed in the previous three installments. Any views expressed in this essay are those of the author alone and, unless readers find them to be particularly insightful, do not necessarily represent the views of Open Look Hoops. Oh, who are we kidding...

So, the question we've been pondering for the last week is whether or not going by more than just the standard first and last name gives a player any advantages over his lesser-named contemporaries. Well, does more name equal more game, as the title inquires? The short answer is simply "well, of course." The long answer, however, is more nuanced and complex.

In the previously posted videos, we were shown brief but representative highlight videos of three of Open Look Hoops' favorite budding young talent. With games as diverse as their genealogical trees, this particular breed of player brings with him a certain "jenesequa" untapped in the more conventionally-named player. What we have found is that the Juan Carlos Navarros, Jose Juan Bareas, and Pops Mensah-Bonsus of the world appear to be able to harness a more defined sense of self-identity which in turn facilitates the type of faith and confidence requisite of greatness. You see, the inclusion of a third name affords the player a 50% increase in the number of heritage-related guiding forces with which to shape their sense of self-efficacy. Disagree? Well, let's if the following little case study changes your tune.

I think it's safe to assume that we are all intimately familiar with former Nuggets guard Mahmoud "Don't Call Me Chris Jackson" Abdul-Rauf. Though undoubtedly remembered most for his valiant struggles in overcoming both Tourette Syndrome and the symbolic oppression of the "Star Spangled Banner," there was in fact a far more intriguing storyline hiding beneath the surface. That storyline is the quiet metamorphosis that took place right under our noses.

After garnering one of the most decorated and impressive collegiate careers in NCAA history, then-Jackson entered the NBA as the third overall selection in the NBA Draft. After a decent rookie season, Jackson appeared to hit a wall in his development during his sophomore campaign. His stats dipped and his confidence was at its lowest in years. Then, following his name change to Mahmoud Abdul Rauf in 1991, he resurrected his game and became the NBA's Most Improved Player in 1993. While some might attribute the resurgence in play to a spiritual awakening accompanying his conversion to Islam, I find it much more convenient to not acknowledge that aspect and focus on the name change alone (and also ignore the subsequent tumultuous and disappointing path his career then took). For visual proof see the following pre- and post-name change videos below. The differences should reveal themselves dramatically to those with a finely-tuned basketball eye. (For those without such an eye, don't worry, I never expected you to read this far anyway.) I refer to this phenomenon as the "Rauf-ification Effect".

As Chris Jackson:




As Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf:



Now, I don't want you to be too hard on yourself here. I didn't see it at first either, but oh boy, you will, and we'll all share a hardy laugh about this someday.

With irrefutable evidence now in the hands of the people, there are a few follow-up questions that inexorably crop up in the analytic hoopster's mind. Those will be addressed in a forthcoming post. Until then, seek comfort in the truth that we together have unfurled, and know that whatever happens in our individual lives, collectively we have discovered something that no one can ever take from us. We have captured lightning in a bottle. What we do with it is now in your hands. God speed.