From Ekename to Insane Goat: The Names We’re Given… and the Ones We Keep

The word nickname isn’t “Nick + name.” It started as ekename—a Middle English word meaning “also-name” or “added name.” Over time, people said an ekename so often that it blurred into a nekename… and eventually became a nickname.

Language drift. Identity, slowly reshaped. And honestly? That origin still fits. Because a nickname was never meant to replace who you are. It was meant to add something. 

When Nicknames Meant Greatness. Once upon a time, nicknames weren’t casual—they were carved out of history.

These weren’t cute. They were reputations… distilled. Fast forward a few centuries and the battlefield changed. The stage. The screen. The arena.

Because we’ve always needed a second name for the people who were… more.

“The Great.”
Alexander the Great didn’t trend—he conquered his way into permanence.

“The Lionheart.”
Richard I of England made courage his calling card.

“The Terrible.” (or more accurately, the Fearsome)
Ivan IV of Russia—depends which side of history you stood on.

“The Desert Fox.”
Erwin Rommel turned strategy into identity.

“The Righteous.”
Saladin carried his reputation in his very name.

Then the stage lights came on…

“King of Pop.”
Michael Jackson didn’t just make hits—he was the genre.

“Queen of Pop.”
Madonna rewrote the rules while breaking them.

“Ol’ Blue Eyes.”
Frank Sinatra made cool look effortless.

“The Boss.”
Bruce Springsteen—because someone had to be.

“Queen Bey.”
Beyoncé—modern royalty, no crown required.

From earned… to marketed… to monetized.

We used to give nicknames to remember greatness. Now we give them to build it. These weren’t just nicknames. They were brands. And in sports and the arenas:

“Air Jordan.”
Michael Jordan didn’t jump—he floated.

“The Iceman.”
George Gervin made pressure look like a light breeze.

“The Rock.”
Dwayne Johnson turned a wrestling nickname into a global empire.

From ekename to empire. From The Great to The King, to The Brand. Same instinct. Different stakes.

But What About the Rest of Us? The ones without arenas or armies. What is a nickname when you’re just… living your life? It’s not legacy. It’s belonging. It’s the coach adding a “-y” or “-ie” to your name— “Johnny,” “Mikey,” Davy”—not because it’s official, but because you’re his guy. It’s not about shortening your name. It’s about pulling you closer.

Sometimes it’s encouragement. Sometimes it’s affection. Sometimes it’s just easier to yell from the sidelines. But most of the time? It’s a connection. An added name… just like ekename intended.

My Personal Hall of Fame (and Shame). I’ve had a bevy of nicknames over the years. Some I loved. Others… I endured. On the youth baseball field, I was “Willie”—a nod to Willie Stargell. I’ll take that all day. I had "some" skills… mostly at bat.

Then came the moment my friends discovered my first name wasn’t Greg. Suddenly, I was “Darrel.” Not said… weaponized. You know the tone.

High school gave me “Sumo.” A mix of my size and unfortunate timing during a talk on sumo wrestling by Fr. Marco at Rockhurst. Lesson learned: sometimes participation has consequences.

College? That’s where things got layered.“Grogman.” Yes, because of beer… but also because I was a ceramics major. Grog, that gritty material mixed into clay, was part of the craft. I became equal parts party guy and art supply.

Then came “Stump.” Because apparently my height meant I’d been “cut off at the knees.”
Not my favorite. Not even close. But sometimes you laugh along just to keep the peace with the fraternity brothers.

And then adulthood gave me the wild frontier of gamer usernames: Skrappy Koko, MultiWargasmic (no further questions 😂), and the one that stuck—Insane Goat (Insane G0@T). That one? I chose to keep. This was way before the Greatest Of All Time (The GOAT) was a conversation piece!

Nicknames aren’t just names. They’re snapshots. Of how people see you. Of where you belonged. Of what season of life you were in. Some lift you up. Some cut you down. Some you outgrow. Some grow with you. And here’s the shift: You may not get to choose the nicknames you’re given… but over time, you do get to choose the ones you answer to.

Now it is your turn.  Let me ask you:

• What were your nicknames growing up?

• Who gave them to you—and why?

• Which ones made you feel seen?

• Which ones made you feel small?

• Are you still carrying one today?

Because somewhere between “The Great” and “Insane Goat”… there’s a story. Chances are it says more about your life than your real name ever could.