Originally published in SLAM 77
I always get Devean George’s name wrong. I’m not sure why, but I always seem to pronounce it Da-VON instead of the right way (rhymes with Kevin). Ryan, the official SLAM Dome Laker fan, is the one who always calls me on it. And I always say, Yeah, my bad. And the next time I get it wrong again.
I don’t think it’s anything personal—I apparently say “Oregon” wrong all the time too, and I love that state. I think it’s just that I’ve got it in my head that “ean” should be pronounced “on” (like Sean), and no matter how many times I’m told “It’s Devin, dammit!,” it’s just never going to take.
Of course, when the season began, I doubted I’d be saying (or hearing) his name much anyway. He’s a D3 product starting for the Lakers, which is remarkable—but he was starting alongside four likely Hall of Famers, which meant he’d be getting the ball about as much as I would. Like that one guy who played for the Celtics between 1955 and ’65 who didn’t get his number retired, he’d be forgotten. Sometimes while he was actually on the floor.
That, as you can see here, is a very bad idea. Because, despite his un-Springfield pedigree, Devean George knows what he’s doing. And when a normally money Horace Grant 15-footer skittered off the back of the rim like water off a hot griddle, Devean was ready. Seeing that LeBron and Carlos Boozer were occupied with something else, Devean got his the only way he’s gonna be able to most of the time. Got his named called, too.
Devean. Rhymes with Kevin. Got it.
