"Thank you, William Brohaugh. Thank you for writing this book. Barbecue is the better for it." --Doug Mosley in The National Barbecue News "The blend of travel, social and culinary history is exceptional and fun in this highly recommended pick." --Midwest Book Review "A must read for aspiring pit masters and great for armchair cooks, too." --Steven Raichlen, author of The Barbecue Bible and host of PBS's Barbecue University		This excerpt from Chapter 15 of The Grill of Victory, discussing team names (check out "Happy Hog Gets His Rude Awakening" for discussion of associated team logos, and "Starring Hog-Eye Pierce" for talk about "danger" on the BBQ circuit), begins with one of the teams chatting with townsfolk at the Galax, Virginia, Smoke on the Mountain barbecue competition while the team prepares one of its entries: Sing a Song of Pig Puns, Pocket Full of Wry "What's the name of the team that don't have a name?" --Judge John Rox in a judges briefing after reps announce that one of the teams has no outward display of its name The curious public is gathered as Pat Rooney and Richard Lackie of barbecue team Sweet Swine o' Mine prep their hog Friday afternoon. They're curious about the injection needles, about slathering the hog in mustard, about barbecue in general. "You use a sweet sauce?" one asks Richard. Richard explains his sauce. Has some sweet to it. And why do you ask? The onlooker points at the team banner. "Sweet Swine o' Mine." The explanation comes again, the play on words that continues to be less and less connective as Guns n Roses continues to sink into the Frankie Valli/Creedence Clearwater/Boston land of sometimes-remembered oldies. No matter how many times Richard has to explain the name, no matter if it ever gets tiresome, no matter that, as Richard admits, "it can escape you sometimes," it's unlikely that he'll change it. Sweet Swine o' Mine is branded upon him. Literally. Whereas Airpork Crew ultimately declined the opportunity for tattoos the weekend they swept the Mt. Carmel Ribberfest cook, Richard and four teammates succumbed a few weeks after they took first place in the shoulder division at the World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest. They adorned ankles with a drawing of the WCBCC cleaver and the initials "SSOM." No changing it now. The Puns n Roses moniker is theirs forever. (And by the way, here's a tip from Pat Rooney: "I tell you one thing you don't want to do. Put insect repellent on a new tattoo.") Aging pop references is one of the reasons the New Pigs on the Block (punning the boy band "New Kids") changed its name to Pigs in Paradise when it returned to the circuit (their interim name "New Pigs II" lasted just a contest or II). That's why teams are at this writing resorting to rap and hiphop puns (for example, Notorious P.I.G.) that five years from now will likely have people scratching their heads. At least Porkosaurus won't suffer the effects of passing time. At Galax, Pit Connection is another name that has not been affected by aging. The name has been around since the early '80s when head cook Jerry Dyer hooked up with four other active-duty Marines who were teaching at the Millington Navy Electronics School. They held a contest for a team name; the winning entry was a students' suggestion--an electronics student, mind you, thus the connection to "connection" in Pit Connection. Other team names at Galax need "connections" as well--they need varying degrees of explanation. Self-explanatory are Nervous Wreck Cook'n Crew and Hawg Wild. Kings Cookers needs only a bit of explanation (the King in the origin of the name is a certain beer brand no longer associated with the team and not a Memphis-based hip-swinger and not, oh, Henry the VIII). Natural Born Grillers will survive its pop-culture roots in the movie, Natural Born Killers. (Team leader and founder John David Wheeler originally wanted to name the team after the Quentin Tarentino hit, Pulp Fiction. But Pork Fiction was already taken. Had he considered it, so was Reservoir Hogs. Would he now consider naming the team Grill Bill? or Kill Grill? And would the source of the name be the first or the second Kill Bill movie?) And Smoked Encounters of the Third Swine? If you're gonna do a pun on a pop-culture title, do it with something that will stick in people's memories, like a Stephen Spielberg movie. Close Encounters of the Third Kind. (Spielberg's other movies lend themselves to varying degrees of pigs-ploitation. Saving Private Porcine? That one has not been used. Jowls has been used though recently discarded. Jurassic Pork has been used, as well.) The problem with the otherwise memorable Smoked Encounters of the Third Swine is its lack of precision in the memory. Galax participants have referred to it as "Porked Encounters of the Third Time," "Swine Encounters of the Third Kind," "Something Like Close Encounters of the Third Kind," and "Third Encounters of the . . . umm . . ." Jack's Old South? People call head cook Myron Mixon "Jack" almost as often as they use his real name, especially if they haven't yet met him. The Jack in Jack's Old South is Myron's father, who developed the team's sauce. The full name of the team, by the by, is Jack's Old South BBQ Sauce Cooking Team. So-Co Smokehouse is short for "southern comfort," the hospitality, not the alcohol. On the other hand, consider another team on the circuit, J&J Cookers, so named for Jim and Jack (hint: no one on the team is named Jim or Jack). Gwatney? The team used to be called Super Clean Smokers, after a sponsoring automotive product and not pride in their culinary hygiene. The team's current name is another automotive reference (though it sounds like a pretty good name for an English stout)--officially, the team is named after car-dealership Gwatney Chevrolet, which took over team sponsorship. Pure and Sinful--ah, stealing is a sin, a pure sin, and the members of Pure and Sinful have stolen the name. Well, not really. Team leader Dan Puryear is a fan of a Richmond Virginia rock band named, yes, Pure and Sinful. Good name for a barbecue team, Dan thought--and he approached the blues rockers to ask if he could share the name (not to mention a little cross promotion). Pure and Sinful, audio edition, said yes to Pure and Sinful, edible edition. (Considered but discarded: Dan and the Divas.) And Pig Pounda Kappa? Alas, exploring that name might take you as long as landing a summa cum laude. But let's do: Gary Kerce was looking for a team name that was "something different, something unique." A fellow Gary worked with, a university student and, likely, a frat rat, came up with a suggestion. Go Greek. "Pig" had to be in there. "Pounda" was from the poundage of the pig. "Kappa," the Greek word for the letter K for Kerce. Team names across the circuit range from the straightforward (e.g., Memphis Barbecue Society) to the outlandish (e.g., Church of Swinetology) to the think-about-'em-for-a-second (e.g., Shigs in Pit). And the puns, oh the puns. How many puns could a pigpen pun if a pigpen could pen puns? Well, a whole bunch. Barefoot in the Pork, The Hogfather, Porkcrastinators, and Magically Piglicious! (perhaps thinking the pun is a lucky charm). The Grill Sergeants. The Boardello. The Spice Is Right. The Best Little Boarhouse in Memphis. Hog Rock Café. Dr. Frank-N-Swine. Pig Newton. These are indeed grills gone wild, especially the team named, um, Grills Gone Wild. (Logo: debutantish piggy lifting her shirt to flash her piggy teats, three rows of them, though tastefully covered in a trio of bikini tops.) Then there's the just plain playful. Rib Ticklers. Grand Masters of Cooking Disasters. Ribs for Her Pleasure (overheard from an unrelated team as they pulled the membrane off the backs of St. Louis spare ribs: "You want a natural condom?"). Flying Pigs. We Don't Cook Sheep. Squeals on Wheels. Smoke 'Em If You Got 'Em. Oink, Cackle and Moo (from the KCBS circuit, obviously). 4 Wieners and a Weber. Pork 4 Skins (The name came from a bit of slang with a commercial bent. It was Pork for Money--"Skins" being slang for dollar bills, as in a golf skins game; however, that explanation didn't prevent one awards emcee from refusing to say the name when announcing awards at a competition some years back). And you gotta love that cooking team from England: The Mad Cows (they cook pretty good, too--the Brits won the 2004 Jack Daniels Invitational). Among other names considered and rejected on the circuit: "Randy's Rubbers." And the smartass. Literally. The Central Texas Smartass Cookers, out of Rogers Texas. In that buttish realm is the Breasts and Butts--the caption of a picture of that team appearing on the Florida Barbecue Association website noted, "Yes, there's another name for this team, but it's a family event." And the just plain honest: Old Farts. Or the Ugly Brothers barbecue team (slogan: "Proving yet again that men, even Ugly ones, rule the grill"), with male team members Les Ugly, Big Ugly and Bud Ugly, and female members Farphrom Ugly and Nadevenclosto Ugly. And when in doubt, use this formula: "Smokin' Fill-in-the-Blank." Smokin' Guns, Smokin' Elvises, Smokin' Joes. And Misfits and T's and Pig Express and Hoosiers and Badgers and Dads and Roos and Moos and Moose and Poobahs and Triggers and Butts and Clones--and Irish and Spiders (and bears, oh my). But there's only so much punning, wordplay and plain ol' fun that can go around. There have been at least two teams called "Pork Que," one pronouncing it with the profane reference it results from, and one pronouncing the "Que" as "kay" (as the Spanish do), so that his team is pronounced "Por-kay Pigs. And that's n-n-not all, folks: Holy Smokers II adopted the II when they found themselves at a previous competition right next to another team named Holy Smokers. A Bubbacue from Evansville, Indiana, and a Bubba Q from Houston. Two sets of Bastey Boys, one with the "e", one without. (Noted on the back of a tank top worn by a female Bastey Person: "Full Contact Co-Ed Naked Barbecue Team: The Bastey Babes.") For the intelligent porker: iQue. In fact, it's surprising that there isn't a Pete Townsend-inspired "Who Are Que?" (with CSI investigators doing an autopsy on a whole hog), or "Que Are You? or . . . . the mind boggles about the possible who/you/que puns. Including "Mad About Que," after the hit Helen Hunt/Paul Reiser sitcom from the '90s. At least the phrase "mad about you" predates Hunt and Reiser, so the name ends up being quite timeless. The Mad About Que team originally called itself "Sauced Swine," but phrase's "she-sells-seashells" pronounceability sent Scott and Teresa Cutler on a helenhunt for a new name. (When it comes to some other team names, the hell with selling sauced swine by the seashore, try running Ricky Rover Rooter Roasters over that tongue of yours three times fast. Or the Peter-Piper-pickled-pepper-peck-picker-reminiscent Pigs, Peppers and Blues.) Scott and Teresa's next choice was Parrothead Porkers, and although not registered with the nonexistent Federal Bureau of Barbecue Eponymy, that name was already featured on another team's shirts. One of Scott's next suggestions was "The Smelly Pits." "I'm not wearing a T-shirt with 'Smelly Pits' on it," Teresa protested, apparently blinded by good taste. Nonplused, Scott said, "You could put on the back, 'Come smell my pits.'" For some reason, "Mad About Que" won out. By the by, Scott Cutler takes heart when learning that there's already a team out there named The Pit Sniffers. And another is using the slogan, "People Love to Smell My Pit!" He says, "I told you all it was a good idea!" (Check out "Happy Hog Gets His Rude Awakening" for discussion of associated team logos, and "Starring Hog-Eye Pierce for a discussion of boys playing with fire and heavy metal objects. And read the book's Foreword, too.) (Copyright 2006 by William Brohaugh)