Just to be safe, I made sure there was no way to rearrange the letters in “TinCaps” to convey a satanic message. After the hubbub over “Wizards” all those years ago, one can never be too cautious.

Good news, Fort Wayne. Our baseball team’s new name is Satan-free.

However, it is possible to rearrange the letters to spell CatSpin, which is a favorite promotion at minor league baseball games. No, wait, that’s BatSpin. My bad.

Do I like TinCaps, the name picked to replace Wizards as the Class A team moves into its new digs next season at Parkview Field in Harrison Square? It’s OK. It could grow on me. It’s better than Fusion.

My initial reaction was “TinCaps? Really? That’s it?”

Of course, that was before one of the team’s owners, Hardball Capital CEO Jason Freier, explained the name’s origin and how it’s a nod to Johnny Appleseed. Seems he wore a cooking pan on his head. (Appleseed, not Freier.) It was a tin cap or TinCap, as we should say hurriedly so as not to allow a space between the words.

Appleseed is a Fort Wayne icon, buried here and celebrated with an annual festival, which takes place out there by the old ballpark, in an ironic twist.

Upon hearing this explanation, I considered jumping up and yelling:


“TinCaps! TinCaps!



You’re what we need!



A baseball tribute to Appleseed!”


The urge passed and I instead jotted in my notebook Freier’s remark that Appleseed was “quirky and beloved.”

They’ve nailed the quirky part with the new name.

Beloved may take awhile.

I’m willing to let TinCaps grow on me because I’m open-minded, because I like Freier and team general manager Mike Nutter, and because I don’t have a choice since the logo has already been designed and the colors determined. They’re red, green and brown, with a touch of tin, if that’s a color.

Speaking of the logo, that’s one bad apple, and I mean “bad” in the context of tough, attitude-filled and hip. Most of the apples I’ve known in my life have tended to hang around rather complacently.

This apple looks irritated. Maybe it’s because the marketing department shoved that tin cap on his head so hard his stem poked through it.

I asked Freier if “TinCaps” jumped out at him from among the 2,574 fan-submitted entries or whether it took some time to appreciate. He said the latter. I appreciate his honesty. He could have faked love at first sales pitch.

I can’t imagine anyone loving TinCaps right away. But it fits in the modern-day minor league mode of Lansing Lugnuts, Beloit Snappers or Cedar Rapids Kernels. Our apple looks much tougher than Cedar Rapids’ stalk of corn, by the way. The Lugnut looks kind of dizzy. The Snapper? He’d probably take a chunk out of our apple unless we hit him with that TinCap first.

We’ll get used to TinCaps, just as we’ll get used to saying Parkview Field. The team will have some fun with the name, playing off the Appleseed connection since it exudes that family-friendly vibe. I am only slightly concerned about children who are frightened by angry apples.

Could they have picked a better name? Not from the list of finalists they mentioned: Octane, Voltmen, Fuel, Plankers and Floods. No, seriously. Those were among the finalists and not characters in some futuristic Armageddon movie where people are attacked by Mad Ants.

Fort Wayne TinCaps. Say it a few times. Let it roll off your tongue. Get used to it. The owners wanted a name that was fun, but not too bizarre. They said the apple-oriented theme fits in with the green “park” design of Harrison Square and the healthy apple fits well with Parkview Hospital’s stadium naming rights.

Most people will need time to digest the new name, but not everyone.

As I was writing this column, my 11-year-old son came in the room. I showed him the name and logo and his reaction was immediate.

“That’s cool. I need to get a hat with that (logo) on it.”

I believe that’s the response the TinCaps are counting on.