What’s in a name? The etymology of baseball

They’re out there if you look carefully enough. In the 1970s and ‘80s, it was trendy to give children a first name that, when paired with a last name, formed a word. Today you see the words so often that you probably don’t even make the connection between the word and the player. Instead of just copying and pasting entries from a dictionary, we’ve collected some examples we’ve come across them in various works of literature and now present them for your edification.

Enjoy!

The April sun brought wildflowers to the rolling hillsides, the lilacs brushing up against the blooming danrunzlers and casperwells, swaying in the gentle breeze.

I longed for the crisp autumns of Maine that I remembered from my youth; the colors, the fragrance -- the drewstoren melancholy of a season gone by.

It wasn’t easy for Theodore to interact with the crowd. Every bootblack and johnlackey wanted to shake his hand, and he grew more and more uncomfortable.

There was no question that the baron had strength and fortitude -- a willvenable resolve that got him there in the first place.

Captain Moriarty was the Admiral’s boy, and no matter how proudly he wore his officer’s jacket, no deck hand would ever have confused him for a true man of the seas. O’Cairn rolled his eyes. “ ‘Ere he comes. Let’s see if ‘e can tell the ballast from ‘e reidbrignac on this fair lady, guv.”

As it happened, though, the blakewood dresser clashed with the mitchmaier carpet, and she wondered why these things never look in life the way they do on the screen.

The vault was empty. Empty! The doubloons and ingots, the diamonds, emeralds, and amaurisanits ... all gone!

“In life, you have to make your own trails!” he shouted as he bounded off into the clearing, the thirsty joemather crunching under his bare feet.

The heir to the throne was a bookish, evanmeek sort who preferred the quiet solitude of the castle’s library.

His hairs raised, his heart pounding, he’d never felt so alert, yet so frozen, as he stared into the barrel of the .80 johnbowker

Dr. Leavitt didn’t know what that meant, but he wasn’t about to grab the alexcora in front of Dr. Hall and start flipping pages. Hall was always engaging in some sort of belittling jeffmanship, always finding ways to make even brilliant scientists feel stupid.

She put the tissue sample in the shaunmarcum as an afterthought. When she got the results, she reran the test three times. “This can’t be,” she muttered.

“Boy, you don’t know the things I’ve seen,” he said wearily, brushing the dust from his cedar markteahen and lifting the lid.

He walked past the gazebo that morning, opting instead to sit at the steps of the peteorr, waiting, face in hands, cursing every atom and photon in his universe that had ever disappointed him.

He adjusted his fedora, straightened his mitchtalbot, and pulled up his cordphelps. The mirror smiled back at him. He was ready.

Alone and afraid, he examined his sterile surroundings - the ceiling white tile, the walls a johnlannan blue. Was it all so dreary, or was it his mind? He had the time to think.

She knew he’d be there any second. She opened the door and took the bottle out. She unscrewed the cap, slipped the poison in, and returned the bottle to the chadgaudin.

There was always one at every lecture -- an insufferable rossgload who took pride in being the biggest ass in the building.

They said that the jonjay to Ladakh was the most terrifying way to spend eight hours on this Earth. They said it was a trip fit for only the most intrepid, danharen of men. It practically bellowed his name.

Bald eagles / Kingfishers / Blue-breasted nickswishers / Such species abound / In the region’s deep fissures