The Vancouver Grizzlies played their final home game in Canada last week. Barring the unforeseen, the team will move to Memphis next season. There have been rumors that the Grizzlies will then actually sell its naming rights to a local corporate interest-Tennessee-based Federal Express-and the Memphis Express will then be headed to an arena near you.

It sounds like crass commercialization. It is. But it could be worse.

A quick canvassing of the XFL (remember those guys?) provides us with a number of sad recent examples. The Xtreme and Maniax were obvious failures. The New York/New Jersey Hitmen struck out in every conceivable aspect. How does one combine New York and New Jersey for fear of offending Garden State residents, and then go ahead and name the team the Hitmen? It makes no sense.

Franchises in real sports have also struck out big. Not long ago, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays announced that they will shorten their name to the "Rays." Major League Soccer's Kansas City Wiz, conversely, lengthened its name to the Wizards (and presumably ended the bathroom stampedes every time someone started a "Let's Go Wiz!" chant). Both changes were long overdue.

Of course, there are marketing gaffes and then there's just plain bad judgment. In this enlightened age, why are the Cleveland Indians and Washington Redskins still showing up on the wire? I can't see why those college and pro outfits with Native American nicknames have yet to see the light. Some of the franchises argue that the names are meant to be positive-the Illinois Fighting Illini, for example, are supposed to honor the Native Americans of the region. Others are references to team history-Indians fans hold that their name is a tribute a Native American player, Louis Sockalexis.

But there are several things wrong with this-not the least of which the inaccurate use of the term "Indian." For one, I can't envision many people reacting well to ethnic team-naming today. The introduction of Jacksonville Jews and Marquette Mexicans expansion franchises in any sport wouldn't be well-received-even if they were meant to be complimentary. Such "tributes" are ambiguous, and prompt responses even by well-meaning fans that send mixed messages to the groups they depict.

Heck, the teams themselves send mixed messages. The Indians' Chief Wahoo is, at best, a poor excuse for a mascot. The Atlanta Braves-who have distanced themselves from controversial closer John Rocker-have been forced to tone down their infamous "Tomahawk Chop" in recent years. There is a difference between hockey's Chicago Blackhawks-whose logo and "Indian" identity are comparably subtle-and the clownish appearance of Chief Wahoo. Of course, how much the difference matters is debatable.

Those who point to the history behind these names must realize that the past alone doesn't make something right. Had the Brooklyn Dodgers changed their name to the New York Negroes after Jackie Robinson's signing and the resulting "Negromania" in the stands among converted white fans been enough to keep the Dodgers in Brooklyn, I'd still be both perplexed and offended if the name stuck-despite anyone's best "intentions."