The one thing I really want is the one thing I can’t give myself

Two weeks ago, I caught up with a friend of mine who is an adult man with a very serious job as a corporate lawyer for a global bank, where he deals with millions of dollars each day, and when I saw him, the first thing I said was: “Banus! How are you?”

His actual name is Chris but unfortunately, on the first day of high school, he sat in a chair on the back of which someone had scrawled the nonsensical word “banus”, and the damage was done. Twenty-four years later, the nickname remains despite his constant requests for everyone to let it go and call him by his legal name. “Sure thing, Banus.”

Therein lies the beauty of the nickname, the best ones being thrust upon the owner through no fault of their own. One day your name is Chris, and the next you’ve been rebranded simply because you sat in a chair.

Nicknames are often a sign of affection and intimacy, or that you’re really tall.Credit: Michael Howard

No one does this better than sports teams. A group environment fuelled by ruthless ribbing proves the ideal nickname generator. Some are based purely on physical attributes, like how former NRL player Anthony Minichiello earned the nickname ‘The Count’ because he looks exactly like Count von Count from Sesame Street, or basketball fans call Kevin Durant ‘The Slim Reaper’ due to his slender frame.

For a long time, Durant shunned the nickname and asked to be called KD. Sadly for Durant, due to the unofficial rules of nicknames, initials don’t count, nor does being referred to by your surname.

However, surnames can have a role to play in the origins of your nickname.

For instance, Australian cricketer Brett Lee is known as Binga, a reference to Bing Lee, the chain of electronics stores. And before Binga, he was nicknamed Oswald because, for a short time, Brett batted behind his brother Shane Lee and Ian Harvey in the Australian one-day team. During this period, whenever captain Steve Waugh read out the players’ surnames for the batting line-up before a game, it would go: Lee, Harvey … [insert new nickname].

More than just a nickname, Binga became Brett Lee’s whole brand.Credit: Screenshot

I mention all this only because I have long been fascinated by nicknames, a direct result of never having had one. During my formative years at school, when Chris became Banus, it seemed nicknames were being dished out every day. A kid named Ryan was renamed Windy because he was so small he’d blow away in a gale, and Shane became Shooter after a rumour spread that his dad’s job was to shoot seagulls at the airport.

Whether cruel or kind, random or vaguely related to some part of your personality, nicknames represented a sense of belonging, so naturally I was desperate to have one.

Unfortunately, the key to a good nickname is that it must come about organically. You cannot force it or create one for yourself, hoping it may take off.

For a while, I latched onto the nickname Sheriff, given to me by my friend Jono after I showed up at his 15th birthday party wearing mirrored aviator sunglasses. They were popular at the time, but admittedly did make me look like the police chief of a small town. As soon as I entered the room, Jono said: “Oh look, here’s the sheriff.”

Try as I might to make Sheriff catch on back then, it never really did because Jono moved interstate, so he wasn’t around to help facilitate cut-through. In its early stages, a nickname requires constant repetition from others before it sinks in. The minute you have to start explaining the backstory — “well, I was at this party wearing sunglasses” — the jig is up.

Earlier this week I turned 36, which I do not include to elicit well-wishes from readers of this column (though well-wishes are welcome, please email me), but instead because in the leadup to My Big Day, my wife kept asking me what I wanted.

Rather than material gifts, I joked that the one thing I really wanted was the one thing I couldn’t give myself: a nickname. Taking this task as seriously as one can take a grown man requesting a nickname, she returned a few days later with a list of options.

“What about Zelensky because you kind of look like him?” No. “OK, how about Tank, like Thomas the Tank Engine?” Feels lazy and borderline offensive. “The only other one I had was something about Hummus because you love dips, and it rhymes with your name?”

Hummus the Tank Sheriff? Sounds good to me.

Find more of the author’s work here. Email him at [e-mail] or follow him on Instagram at @thomasalexandermitchell and on Twitter @_thmitchell.

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