THE other day a mate told me a terrific nickname some workmates had assigned to one of their colleagues, who was a tad lazy.
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This bloke drove the garbage truck in one of those Sydney councils where they still do an old fashioned garbage run, with the lads picking up the bins by hand, before emptying them into the truck.
This particular garbage gang had been doing the job for years.
They were former first grade footballers who had been given a job for life back in the days when Newtown ran around in the Sydney rugby league competition.
So they were getting on in years and the job was becoming harder, but the old bloke who drove the truck refused to get out of the cab to lend a hand.
If a wayward bin needed to be rounded up he would never jump out of the truck to help.
So his work mates fixed him. They gave him a nickname.
Bradman, they christened the lazy old bugger. Bradman....because you couldn't get him out.
This prompted me to think about some of the clever nicknames I have heard over the years.
Mind you there are a couple I can't share in this family newspaper, like a former boss they called Ankles and I won't tell you why, other than suggest he was considered by many to be much lower than another part of the human anatomy.
I also worked with a fellow manager called Mirrors, so named because he was always going to look into it and Singlet was so generous he'd give you the shirt off his back.
There are the Webb boys - Funnel and Spider.
And the Down family, Bob, Ben, Neil, Doug, Stan and of course, their sister Ida. I went to school with a bloke from out west who talked so slowly we all called him Yesterday.
Then there was poor old Simon Phyllis, who was more commonly known, even among the teachers, as Syphilis and a friend of mine was at university with Cec Pitt.
Most blokes, and quite a few ladies, get a nickname at some stage of their life. Some stick, others are lost in the mists of time.
Back in the day, just about every town had its Wingnut, Prong, Doofa, Curly, Tripod, Chucker, Crowbar, Grub, Sloth, Custard Guts, Bloodnut and Mad Dog.
The current generation has their own favourites, although political correctness has probably eliminated a lot of good nicknames. Some blokes with red hair seem to object to being called Bluey or Ranga these days and assigning Fatty would certainly be out of the question.
Tall blokes were called Lofty, white haired gentlemen were Snowy and the altitude challenged would have been Shortarse or Stumpy.
Popular Mittagong legend Victor Isedale was known to everyone around town as Nose.
He always claimed people called him Nose because he knows so much, but we know better than that Victor.
Using those sort of nicknames nowadays would probably see you in court, for having scarred the mental fragility of some sensitive new-age person. Nevertheless, nicknames are still part of the sporting landscape.
All test cricketers seem to be known by something other than what their mother calls them.
I suspect that has a lot to do with cricketers having so much time to think when they stand out in the Summer sun for five days.
There are so many creative cricketing nicknames, from former captain Tugga Waugh to David Sincock, who was better known as Evil Dick to his friends.
Peter Sleep was Sounda and Aaron Bird was known in the sheds as Flu.
Some of my favourites on the football field include Matt Hilda, who was cleverly called Waltzing, while Martin Offiah was assigned the Chariots tag.
Former Swans player, Lewis Roberts-Thompson was simply known as Hyphen, Nathan Bassett was The Hound and rugby legend Nathan Sharp became Knotso.
Finally, I must conclude by saying I have never understood why a whole generation of blokes christened William, John, Robert and Richard became Bill, Jack, Bob and Dick.
And what possibly possessed the Alcock, Face, Horne and Woodcock families to name their boys Richard.
The latter spent his entire life known as Splinterdick and I am sure that is not what their parents intended when they christened their cute little baby boy Richard.