My given “Christian” name is Allen Isaac Robbins, III.
“Len” is a nickname, derived from Al“Len.”
On my mailbox, it says “Robbins.” Not “Robbins III.”
In the phonebook (yes, I’m still in the phonebook), it says “Robbins,” not “Robbins III.”
Curmudg eonly bosses/teachers/mentors/coache s/probation officers throughout my life never called me “Robbins, the Third.” They yelled “Robbins!” or, more often, “Dummy!”
My father nor my grandfather who share my name were ever colleagues of mine at work, or in the same classroom, or on the same team, or the same chain gang. There was no need to differentiate between the Allen Isaac Robbinses on hand with a suffix because I was the only one.
Nor is there any reason in sports.
I first scoffed at this fad a number of years ago when watching Florida State play football, and a guy had “Williams Sr.” etched on the nameplate across his back. That’s right – Williams Sr.
“Williams Sr.” denotes the player is the father of a “Williams Jr.” I seriously doubt Karlos Williams, Sr.’s son also played for the Seminoles. It’s nearly mathematically and physiologically impossible, even at Florida State.
Robert Griffin, the Heisman Trophy winner from Baylor, and later of the NFL, started this fad among football players, putting “Griffin III” across his back. He was the first NFL player ever to have a Roman numeral on his back.
I’ve always understood the rule of thumb to be this in terms of suffixes for your name: Use them commonly if father or son are both famous, or in the same community.
For instance, Desi Arnaz, Sr. (Lucy’s husband) and Desi Arnaz, Jr. (Lucy’s son). Or Robert Downey, Sr. (filmmaker) and Robert Downey, Jr. (movie star). Or Jim Mora Sr. (football coach) and Jim Mora Jr. (also a football coach).
Or Elmo Jenkins Sr. (old guy who sits on a bench all day in your community) and Elmo Jenkins Jr. (younger guy who sits on a bench all day in your community).
You use the Sr. and Jr. to distinguish between the two gentlemen in an effort to alleviate confusion and the sitcomesque hijinks that could ensue if not otherwise used.
Or, as we do in most small towns, the older one is “Big Elmo” and the younger one is “Lil’ Elmo.” That makes sense. But it doesn’t make any sense across their back in college football.
If “Williams Sr.” is not his last name, which it’s not, why not just put “Karlos’ Dad” or “Sweet Pea” or “Jimbo’s Best Friend” or “He Hate Me” or “I’m About To Bust You Up”?
It’s a slippery slope, one which this traditionalist isn’t too keen about. Or maybe I’ve just become a curmudgeonly old sports geek, like my former bosses/teachers/mentors/coach es/probation officers. Probably the latter.
Then again, if you’re on MY team, and you want to put “Stetson Bennett IV” or “Billy Ocean’s Nephew” or “Boogie Night” on your back, and you score a bunch of touchdowns and win all the time – then, suddenly, I don’t care anymore.
Funny how that works.
• Len Robbins is the editor of The Clinch County News. He can be reached at lrobbins@clinchcounty news
