PCA’s acronym status proves he’s arrived as baseball’s latest phenom
The hunt for heroes is natural and nearly always premature, not to diminish the clatter around young Pete Crow-Armstrong, standing in for us all in Wrigley’s center field, or dashing around the bases arms raised, finger pointing, just to let us know he is enjoying all of this as much as we are.
To become an acronym barely two months into a major league career — the easily chantable “PCA” — has more to do with hyphens than achievements, though there is only one of those and many more of the others.
As a power-hitting, base-stealing, slick-fielding, ball-hawking, whizkid, there may not be enough hyphens to keep up, so PCA it shall be it for convenience and for Cubs’ merch lest the full name disappear under the armpits.
One considers the shirtless center field boosters body marked with a P and C and an A, how grateful they must be for brevity; otherwise they would need to find nine more friends with acceptable stomachs, not to mention the odd hyphen lying around unused.
As I recall it took Michael Jordan at least three seasons to become MJ and while LeBron James never really became LBJ, I assume it was because the initials were already taken by history and the 36th president of the United States.
Major league baseball has remained relatively sparse with hyphens (who recalls, for example, Austin Bibens-Dirkx?) while the NBA and the NFL are over-burdened (ah, another hyphen) with them.
There was A-Rod, of course, eventually known by no other name. A-Rod may have ruined it for anyone named Rodriguez, where Ivan would become I-Rod and Francisco K-Rod (K for strikeouts) and where the brief joining of A-Rod and J Lo seemed inevitable.
Baseball nicknames have given way to lazy shorthand. The game that was born with The Babe and Joltin’ Joe and the Splendid Splinter, the lore where Chipper and Tug and the Big Hurt once roamed, has faded for initials.
As an example, Juan Soto takes as a compliment being “The Childish Bambino” as I suppose does “The Shohei Kid” Ohtani, whereas neither name is likely to catch on, nor make anyone forget Willie Mays or the Babe.
The most famous hyphenate in the NBA was Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. The punctuation was clearly unneeded since no one ever really bothered to get past his first name. The name World B. Free comes to mind, though why or when escapes me.
The Bears have had the odd Ha Ha Clinton-Dix, but not for long, and the Bulls tend to favor diacritics, especially at center, when an umlaut might be a better choice.
The first widely used sports initials may have belonged to Y.A. Tittle, for no other reason than Yelberton Abraham was quite the mouthful. Same for O.J. (Orenthal James) Simpson, whose initials, as fate would have it, are now retired from polite society.
The NHL may proudly keep the old Blue Jacket, Thrasher, Capital defenseman Jean-Luc Grand-Pierre, known as “The Hyphenator,” but more likely to be confused with one of the lesser Star Trek captains.
As promised, or at least implied, I return to the subject of this column, Pete Crow-Armstrong and his promise of greatness.
Chants of “MVP” are mixed with “PCA” and all-star voting is being bullied by anyone with a voice. Much is demanded of someone so fresh while his novelty is as much the reason as his results.
The first-place Cubs act like they belong there and PCA acts as if none of it is unusual. Whatever awaits over the long summer and the adventures of a pending playoffs is awash among the sheer joy of waiting for PCA’s next at bat, his next stolen base, his next chasing down any ball that thinks it can get past him.
Not since Kris Bryant and Anthony Rizzo has the buzz been so loud in Cubdom. Awkwardly, those two were merged into something called “Bryzzo,” not often enough to stick but they are remembered fondly as a pair rather than separately.
PCA seems to be on his own, although he does have Seiya Suzuki keeping up and Kyle Tucker trying not to be forgotten. Imagine the joining of those names. Petsucker? Best keep it simple. Initials will do.