Steelers vs Seahawks: Nickname Breakdown

Let me start by saying this: From the franchise to the coaching staff to the players, I admire the Steelers. If they were playing anybody else in the NFC for the Lombardi trophy, I would probably be rooting for them. But, as we know, they're playing the Seahawks, and thus fall into taunting territory. It's my way of coping with the innate terror of rooting for the Seahawks in a big game. As such, what follows is my breakdown of the game's biggest (non-Berman) nicknames.

Starting Running Backs
Pittsburgh: Gosh, that Willie Parker sure is fast. If only he had a nickname describing how fast he is... I'm sorry, what's that? He already has a nickname? Fast Willie Parker? You're kidding, right?

Objectively, this might be the most boring, unoriginal nickname in the history of sports. There's really not much else to say about it.

Seattle: MVP Shaun Alexander. Not too many points for originality, but you have to admit, it's a pretty sweet handle.

Players Named "Big"
Pittsburgh: Ben Roethliberger, aka Big Ben. Okay, whoever is responsible for nicknames in Pittsburgh is fired. Did the Rooneys hire Lenny from Of Mice and Men to think of this stuff? "Okay, Lenny, just watch the game tape and get back to us, okay?" (Three hours pass.) "All right, we now have Catchy Hines Ward, Hairy Troy Polamalu, Tall Heath Miller, and Fat Jerome Bettis. Write up the press release."

Objectively, I'll concede that I understand the double-entendre with the London landmark. Ben's an ascendant star in the NFL, and he is, indeed, bigger than the average quarteback. But compare that to...

Seattle: Walter Jones. Big Walt is not only much, much bigger than Big Ben, but he's also light years better at his position than, oh, anybody else on the planet.

Notable Backup Players with Terrific Nicknames
Pittsburgh: None. No wait, lemme think... Nope. I'll check the roster one more time for any high-profile players who don't start... Oh. Apparently Bettis has something going on -- well, that's silly. He's fat and doesn't resemble a greyhound at all.

Seattle: Floyd "Pork Chop" Womack. A benchmark for separating a great nickname from an average one is how readily it replaces an athlete's first name. Answer me this: do you call him Floyd or Pork Chop? That's what I thought. A hundred years from now, sports-nickname historians will consider this one of the all-time greats, along the lines of Oil Can Boyd, Three-Finger Brown, Catfish Hunter, Night Train Lane, and Crazy Legs Hirsch. (Not making the cut: the Steelers' Mean Joe Greene. Seriously, Lenny, you're fired. Clean out your desk and go home.)