Monday, September 28, 2026
Column 726
The “Colonel” Who Wasn’t
There are nicknames you earn. There are nicknames your friends give you. And there are nicknames you adopt because you would like people to associate you with something impressive – even though you never did anything to earn it.
Imagine that a fellow in the darts world decided to call himself “The Colonel.”
Now imagine that this fellow had never served in the military. Not as a colonel. Not as a corporal. Not as a private. Not even as the bloke peeling potatoes while the actual soldiers were doing something useful.
Nothing. Zero. Bubkes.
Even Colonel Sanders served briefly in the United States Army. His famous title was later bestowed upon him by the governor of Kentucky in recognition of his contributions to the state.
As for me, I never rescued anyone from the Titanic. Therefore, I do not call myself “The Savior.” That could be seriously misconstrued.
Now, I understand that darts nicknames are not sworn testimony. Although John Lowe was known as “Old Stoneface,” I am reasonably certain no geological testing was ever conducted.
It’s theatre. A bit of fun.
A nickname gives the crowd something to chant, gives the announcer something to bellow and gives the player something impressive to have embroidered across the back of an otherwise hideous shirt.
But military titles are different.
“Colonel” is not merely a theatrical flourish like “The Power,” “The Machine” or “The Nuke.”
It is a rank.
It is earned through years of service, sacrifice, leadership and responsibility. Real colonels have commanded men and women whose lives depended upon their judgment. Some spent years away from their families. Some went to war. Some returned carrying memories most of us cannot begin to comprehend. Some watched friends come home wounded. Some watched friends die.
So, if our darts player calls himself “The Colonel,” thinking people might regard it as considerably more than theatrical. Particularly people who actually served. They might regard it as insulting. Dishonorable. They might regard it as sickening.
And they would have every right.
Now suppose that, at some point, someone had the good sense to explain this to the player. “Colonel” could become “Kernel.” Problem solved. Or perhaps merely shelled. A kernel, of course, can be a grain of corn. In our example, it could also be what remains when a military fantasy encounters reality, draws fire and executes a tactical retreat.
But would anyone really be fooled?
“Colonel” and “Kernel” are pronounced exactly the same. That would not be an unfortunate coincidence. It would be the entire point.
The spelling changed. The intended association did not. The uniform disappeared, but the salute would still be hiding behind the curtain. Technically different. Spiritually identical.
To be clear, I would not accuse such a person of stolen valor. There is an enormous difference between adopting a misleading nickname and falsely claiming medals, military service or battlefield heroism. That distinction matters. But legality is an exceedingly low bar for judging decency.
The better question is one of respect. Why adopt a moniker suggesting service and achievement you never earned – especially after people who did earn it have explained why they find it offensive?
Perhaps our theoretical “Colonel” began as harmless fun among friends. Perhaps “Kernel” was supposed to be clever wordplay. Perhaps nobody initially gave it much thought. Fine.
But once people who served tell you that a nickname belittles something to which they devoted years of their lives, the decent response is not to change a couple letters and continue winking.
It is to choose another nickname. There is no shortage of them. I sort of like “Dancing Queen,” “Mr. Miscount,” and “Señior Snot-Weasel.” Any of these would attract attention – and perhaps be accurate – without trespassing upon the sacrifices of people who actually served.
And if none seems quite right, one perfectly serviceable option has been available since the beginning of time:
Your name.
No medals required. No commission necessary. No explanation needed. And no pretending.
Of course, this is all entirely hypothetical.
But if the cap fits…
Stay thirsty, my friends.
Dartoid
