The original names and numbers of all the players in this story have been kept as has the diminutive nickname of my brother who is the main character in this short tale. In those days, especially on the ball field or court, most children’s names, if at all possible, were ascribed an additional ending y. Some professional athletes never outgrew their childhood nicknames and so we had heroes who were called Mickey and Bobby and Christy and Sandy and Jackie not to mention Pee Wee. The name of the nun has been changed simply because I can’t remember it. ♦

Anyone who grew up Catholic, especially in the pre-Vatican II decades, remembers the drill of being confirmed and the need beforehand to choose a Confirmation name. When my brothers and sisters and I were growing up we were confirmed sometime between grades 6 and 8 depending upon the bishop’s availability. Confirmandi were instructed to choose the name of some saint, apostle, or special biblical figure whose life was exemplary. Francis, after the poor man from Assisi, was always a popular choice for the boys, as was Peter who was Rocky long before Mr. Balboa took on Apollo Creed. Mary, Therese (after the Little Flower), and Bernadette were big with the girls. Some kids chose the name of an aunt or uncle which back then was usually safe since Catholics were strongly encouraged to have their children baptized with the name of a saint rather than say Puma or Blue or Moon Unit or Axl or Rogue or Apple. This is now. That was then.

My younger brother was confirmed in the early 1970’s. The youngest of six, he was the beneficiary of a father who had been a good athlete and coached youth teams for over two decades and was the fourth in our family to play college sports. We were Catholic, but sports ran a close second as our family religion.

When it came the year for my brother and his classmates to be confirmed they were given ample time to choose a name. Books with the stories of saints were made available. My brother never quite found his way to them. And even if he had, he no doubt would have been upset to learn his patron saint had reportedly been demoted to second string (Mr. Christopher?) and left off the list in the 1969 Reform of the Roman Calendar. Finally, the day came to tell Sister Agatha their choice of a confirmation name. With pen in hand, the teacher called out the names of each student in alphabetical order and then recorded the name in her grade book that the respective student offered aloud.

When she came to my brother’s name Sister Agatha said, “Christy, what did you choose for your confirmation name?”

“Rico,” said my brother.

“Did you say Rico?” asked Sister Agatha.

“Yes, sister,” replied my brother.

“Who is Rico? I’m not aware of any Rico. Do you mean Richard?”

“No.”

“Who is Rico,” Sister Agatha asked.

“Rico Petrocelli,” my brother responded, a bit surprised she would even need to ask. “He plays shortstop and third base for the Boston Red Sox.”

“I see,” said the sister who then instructed my brother to take another evening to choose a name and let her know the next day. She then continued through the roll call eliciting a litany of saints.

The next day, Sister Agatha called from her desk, “Christy, did you choose a confirmation name?”

“Yes, sister,” said my brother.

“And what name do you want?”

My brother said, “Nate.”

“Do you mean Nathanael?” asked Sister Agatha.

“No, sister” said my brother. “Just Nate.”

”I’m sorry. Who is Nate?” asked Sister Agatha.

“Nate Archibald,” replied my brother. “Nate the Skate. He’s the point guard for the Kansas City Kings. He’s my favorite player and the best guard in the NBA. You said it should be someone special.”

“Christy, you have to choose a saint’s name. Although I do not know of Mr. Archibald, and despite being as good as you say he is, I suspect that since he is still living that he has not been declared a saint.”

And from there, wise woman that she was and an accomplished negotiator to boot, Sister Agatha proceeded to convince my brother to take the name Nathanael for his confirmation name – Nathanael being named in the Gospel of John as a friend of Philip from Bethsaida and often identified by some scholars as the apostle Bartholomew and Nate being a nickname for Nathanael just as Christy is short for Christopher. An agreement was made that day and Christopher Edward Nathanael Miller was confirmed a soldier of Christ by the archbishop of Seattle.

Years later, when my brother became a successful high school basketball coach, he no doubt would have been able to make as good a case for Nate Archibald’s canonization as that of Nathanael son of Tolomai. After all, Nate the Skate’s first miracle was witnessed not merely by one or two people but by thousands of people when he performed the miracle of leading the NBA in scoring and assists in the same season. It’s never been done again. How blessed is that?