I’ve had a complicated relationship with my name — starting around 1992.
Before 1992, I lived a pretty unique life. I mean that as in my name was unique and I was the only Jalon/Jalen/Jalin/Jaylen/Jaylon/Jaylin I and those around me knew or ever heard of.
It was great.
Cut to December 1991, when a group of elite 5 Black boys came together in a small college town in Michigan, wearing baggy basketball shorts, playing dope team ball, and making that shit look good.
I immediately became a fan.
It didn’t (Jalen) hurt that I lived in a state that was their nemesis — a state I’m not from but was forced to live in (Military Brat).
If I’m honest, I hated it there.
But what really pushed me over to be one of their biggest fans was that they had a player named Jalen on the team. Jalen Rose. He was a great teammate, flashy, and balled outta his mind with the other 4 Fab Men.
But due to their popularity and taking up a lot of real estate during the 90s College Basketball world, something else happened.
The name Jalen exploded.
You can clearly see that the entry of this name starts in correlation to the Fab Five popularity and dominance in the regular season (please do not make me speak on the March Madness of it all. Thanks.) I expect a jump in numbers after this Super Bowl.
The first time I knew I was no longer going to be unique (and thusly spend my whole life telling folks that I am not named after Jalen Rose — and I had this shit first — or unknowingly second), was one day while I was at work at my first job.
It was a slow afternoon in 1998 and I heard a man yelling “Jalon! Jalon! Where are you?” I look up and see a 30-something white man looking around the store and I’m looking at him trying to figure out if I know him or if this is stranger danger. That is until I see a little white boy running up to him saying “I’m right here Dad!”
Huh?
“Excuse me…were you calling out the name Jalon?”
”Yeah, I was looking for my son.”
”Oh….oh wow. Cause that’s my name and I wondered how you knew me!”
”Yeah no, he was named after Jalen Rose.”
”Yep. Figured.”
Then this happened again a few weeks later when a little Black girl was running around and her mom was trying to corral her. Cut and Paste — the same answer from that Mom. Except she added, “It’s so nice to see another girl Jalon.” Yeah, I bet it is.
Before we get any further, let’s break down how my parents got my name. (Mostly, how my Mama came up with my name.)
Back in the 70s there was a power couple who were doing big things: Jayne and Leon Kennedy. She was the first Black Miss. Ohio, a sportscaster for CBS's "The NFL Today" and later an actress. He was an actor, disc jockey, film producer and playwright. They started a production company together to produce films and after reading a1981 Jet Magazine my Mom started thinking.
What she told me was that their production company was called JayLeon Productions (though I cannot find that anywhere) and that name just stuck with her. But she didn’t like all the letters. That’s where she came up with Jalon. (She could have saved me time correcting folks pronouncing my name by adding the “y” or making that “o” and “e” — but this has also saved me from the trap of folks thinking I was named after Jalen).
My Mom is so cute and creative.
Which brings me to last Sunday night, watching the highlights of the Super Bowl LIX (cause we still say f the NFL after how they treated and handled Colin Kaepernick AND how they used outdated and incredibly racist science to justify paying Black players less money in dementia testing that critics said made it difficult for Black retirees to qualify. Not to mention their weak stance on racism in the league and their fake reaction to the 2020 Racial Awakening — namely led by the tone-deaf team I had supported my whole life — the Cowboys.
I digress.
So I didn’t watch the game on TV — just the highlights on YouTube — and baby, when I did. The number of times I heard the name Jalen. Not just Hurts but also Jalen Carter ..and I’m gonna count Jalyx Hunt — cause that is close — on the Eagle’s side and on the Chiefs’? Jaylen Watson.
All in all, the name Jalon/Jalen, etc was said 1/2 million times last night, and for the first time, I wasn’t annoyed. Actually, I was pretty proud. Things like Jalen is elite. Jalen is incredible. Jalen is the MVP.… was said over and over.
This is where I stop aside and whisper to you that I‘m also a very petty person. Not right away. I’m a very “Use this for good only” and “I match energy” way — but nonetheless I am P-E-T-T-Y.
Monday morning I called my Mama up and thanked her for helping me be petty 43 in the making. I gave her her flowers for doing the damn thing naming me Jalon…and for about a 1/2 dozen men in this world who quite frankly did not treat me the best, cheated, and some who were very much too old for me — sat down to watch American’s past time, they were possibly constantly and continuously reminded of me.
And that I was elite.
And unlike Jalen Hurts — they fumbled. And that is my Super Bowl.
xo JD
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