NAT COOMBS is a TV presenter, comedian, producer and writer. He anchors Major League Baseball & NFL Live on BBC Five Live Sports Xtra and is a regular guest on TV and radio shows, adding his leftfield insight and unique take on the world of sports and their pop culture crossover. He writes for a range of national newspapers and websites, including this blog for ESPN America.

Discovering a celebrity has changed their name is nothing new. Stage names are almost old as the concept of fame itself. Many A-listers across the globe consider a fake name as essential to the blueprint of fame as owning a sausage dog, a portable vial of botox and a regularly belittled personal assistant called Todd who isn’t allowed to make eye contact (except on Thursdays).

But just when you thought it wasn’t possible to be surprised anymore by the exploits of the rich and famous, along comes Mr. Ron Artest, L.A.Laker and card carrying elite maverick.

You remember Ron, right? The first round draft pick who was banned for no less than 86 games (still a record) after almost single-handedly instigating a fans/players brawl during a game whilst he played for the Indiana Pacers.

The thing is, referring to him as Ron Artest isn’t factually correct. Because Ron has changed his name: to Metta World Peace. Nope – that’s not a typo. Metta World Peace.

A number of questions spring to mind. Is Metta his first name, and World Peace his surname? Or is it all meant to be “as one,” like Beyoncé, or perhaps more appropriately Lady Ga Ga. What do we call him? If Kobe playfully calls him “Met” in the locker will it kick off?

What’s he going to have on the back of his shirt? Will they have to make the letters really small to fit them on?

And perhaps most importantly – what does Metta World Peace actually mean?

Yes, the first word is derived from the Sanskrit – and by extension has Buddhist origins, so maybe it’s Ron’s display of loyalty to that benign way of thinking. It obviously has nothing to do with his reality TV show Last Second Shot - the appearance of which at the same time as this is purely a (karmic) coincidence.

I’d lay even money that Ron isn’t entirely sure what it means either, like 91% of the people travelling the globe with oriental lettering tattoos.

But this remarkable piece of Artestry (see what I did there?) has placed Ron automatically in my Top Five left-field athletes. And by “left-field”, I mean so out there the elevators stopped between floor 1 and 2, not the position that Carl Crawford plays.

Here are the other Four Crazies …

TERRELL OWENS
Love him or hate him, Owens is one of the game’s all time great receivers – who may be nearing the end of his career having announced, at the age of 37, that he requires surgery for a torn ACL. His performance credentials are there for all to see but it’s his behavioral antics that have set him apart from the pack just as much as his on field skill.Like when he ran 50 yards to celebrate a TD against Dallas (a team he was later to play for) and jigged around Michael Flatley style over the famous Cowboy star on the halfway line. Or the improvised press conference he held in his driveway (whilst on suspension from the Eagles) where he fielded questions from reporters whilst doing sit-ups. As you do. Or his teary defense, behind Jackie O shades, of Tony Romo – “that’s my quarterback man” (in case we weren’t clear) – refers to himself as both Terrell Owens and TO. As you do.

EDMUNDO
The controversial Brazilian was a frustrating whirlwind of impressive skill and shocking indiscipline. Once sent off seven times in one season, nicknamed “Animal,” reprimanded regularly for frequent fist fighting on the pitch, and supposedly bared his genitals at opposing fans. Walked out on Fiorentina at a crucial time of season to attend the Rio carnival. Photographed feeding beer to a monkey.

THE BUSHWACKERS
Part of the vintage era of 1980’s WWE wrestling, the Bushwackers were as crackers as they come. Often seen rubbing their heads manically or licking each other (for luck apparently), the Whackers (sometimes known as the Sheepherders) brought a giant kangaroo with them to the ring and walked like manic chickens. 300lb chickens. One of them, Cousin Luke was missing most of his front teeth, but that didn’t stop him running up to the camera to show the world his unique oral hygiene on a regular basis.

DENNIS RODMAN

The Godfather to Artest’s Carlito’s Way, Rodman’s crazy creds are second to none.

In no particular order he has: turned up in a wedding dress to promote his autobiography (called I Should Be Dead By Now), dyed his hair green, appeared in an action film with Jean Claude Van Damme, been pushed into a portable toilet whilst wrestling the late Macho Man Randy Savage, frequently dressed in women’s clothing.

Nat Coombs is a writer & broadcaster who hosts the chat show Talk of The Terrace on our sister channel ESPN and MLB coverage on BBC Radio Five Live. He also anchors the US sports podcast Americarnage. Follow him on Twitter

NAT COOMBS is a TV presenter, comedian, producer and writer. He anchors Major League Baseball & NFL Live on BBC Five Live Sports Xtra and is a regular guest on TV and radio shows, adding his leftfield insight and unique take on the world of sports and their pop culture crossover. He writes for a range of national newspapers and websites, including this blog for ESPN America.

As a wise man once said, life is all about compromise. Take me, for example. When I realized I wasn’t going to make it as an Usher tribute act, I turned my hand to writing and broadcasting sports. If we’re lucky, we find our calling and try to do as best a job as we can.

That’s most people, anyway. Usain Bolt is not most people.

The world record holding Olympic champion sprinter isn’t content with being the best in the business in one sporting discipline. He wants to master another sport at the top level – soccer; for no less than Manchester United. Bolt suggests, in his new autobiography 9.58, that when he retires (from sprinting), “I could replace Ryan Giggs” – presumably the ambiguity of this statement given the Welshman’s recent philandering is lost on him.

Bolt’s remarkable suggestion did get me considering a few things. Firstly, is it even possible for an athlete to capably switch sports to a suitable level in 2011? Sure, there are examples of it happening historically: C.B. Fry knocked up 30,000 first class runs in cricket and simultaneously was a capable defender for Southampton FC and England.

‘Neon Deion’ Sanders played his way to a Hall of Fame career in the NFL whilst turning out for the New York Yankees and others as a professional baseball player. The great Michael Jordan – in many peoples’ eyes the finest athlete of all – switched from basketball to baseball too, but never made the Major Leagues.

More recently, Chad Johnson of the Cincinnati Bengals, arguably the NFL’s most flamboyant superstar, tried his hand in the MLS. You think Man City’s Mario Balotelli is eccentric? Couple of years back Johnson legally changed his name to Ocho Cinco: his shirt number, 85, in Spanish. He was prolifically tweeting and appearing live on Ustream talking about Lady Ga-Ga and his love of cigars, whilst other athletes were still getting to grips with MySpace or Facebook. Even Middle America fell in love with him when he fox-trotted his way around on Dancing with the Stars. And he announced, amid labor disputes in his primary sport which means NFL players are, effectively, on enforced holiday, that he was having a five-day trial with Sporting Kansas City. It didn’t pan out, though it’s unlikely that it was anything more than another stunt in a career full of more colorful maneuvers than a Miro retrospective at Tate Modern.

The thing that connects all these stories is that there hasn’t been a recent example of a player pulling it off. It just hasn’t happened in the last 20 years. Presumably there are lots of reasons for this. The dramatic increase in pace that we’ve seen in football is representative of all major sports. The levels of conditioning, positional focus and training, plus the fact that so many leagues are now truly global, and thus subject to a higher level of competition. So not only is the transition between one sport to another that much harder, but barely considered by an athlete whose main focus is the protection of his standing within his primary sport.

Factor in tactical savvy and an understanding of the game that is only developed with repetitive experience, and the difference between looking good in training – or over a 5 day trial – and putting in a capable performance over 90 minutes in a system that relies on all 11 players knowing what their individual role is continuously, and the scale of the challenge is magnified. Johnson – a pacy wide receiver – is a huge football fan (he’s reputedly good mates with Thierry Henry) and played the game when he was younger. He’s clearly on a par with many, if not all, of the MLS players in terms of physical attributes and instinctive athletic ability. But his speed and agility – much like Bolt’s – will only carry him so far.

Conversely, despite the strategic complexity of the NFL, certain positions, and the short, sharp explosive involvement they require, lend themselves far more to a player making the transition between sports, because they can rely on physicality and natural ability more than anything else. So Bolt as a wide receiver maybe?

Will a two-sport player ever happen in our lifetime?

Brock Lesnar’s move from the WWE to UFC notwithstanding, so probably not. But, because I refuse to compromise on absolutely everything, here is my Top Five list of players that I think could conceivably make the switch.

In the meantime, I’ll keep on practicing those RnB dance moves – and you never know …

Ray Lewis – Baltimore Ravens: NFL to Rugby Union
The genius of this, is that, in one fluent move, those rugby naysayers who say football players are soft because they wear pads and helmets would be permanently silenced. Quite possibly, actually silenced.

Nikola Zigic – Birmingham City: Soccer to Basketball
He’s tall, and presumably he’s better with his hands than he is with his feet, or head.

Adrian Gonzalez – Boston Red Sox: Baseball to Tennis
Take that hand eye co-ordination, get him the right coaching (or a Swingball set) and he’ll end up with a better chance of landing a major than Andy Murray.

LeBron James – Miami Heat: Basketball to Soccer
But only if he was made to play for an Icelandic third division team, and had to announce his move to them from the Heat in a one hour TV special.

Tiger Woods: PGA Golf to Crazy Golf
C’mon, admit it. A crazy golf tournament pitting Woods vs. Jack Nicklaus? I’d watch.

Nat Coombs is a writer & broadcaster who hosts the chat show Talk of The Terrace on our sister channel ESPN and MLB coverage on BBC Radio Five Live. He also anchors the US sports podcast Americarnage. Follow him on Twitter

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For people in the U.S., the importance of a hall of fame – for any of its major sports – is almost reflexive. Quite simply, it matters a lot. Last weekend, the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY, added three new members, including former MVP outfielder Andre Dawson. For the likes of Dawson, both the player and the public see it as the pinnacle of an athlete’s career. Once a player has been enshrined, he is no longer “Andre Dawson,” he is “Hall-of-Famer Andre Dawson.” It’s the American equivalent of being knighted.

Of course, this isn’t always the case in international sports. Soccer has a hall of fame; yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen the press refer to members – for example Bobby Moore – as “International Football Hall of Famer Bobby Moore.” Instead, he is often described as an “England international great” or “West Ham legend.” In fact, I doubt that even the players themselves give much thought to the fact they are members. I’d bet Johann Cruyff doesn’t list his hall-of-fame status first when discussing his accomplishments. So why is it so important to Americans when Europeans care a lot less? After all, the idea of a “hall of fame” does come from Europe’s Romans and Greeks who had monuments to their greatest heroes displayed in ornate halls.

If you wanted to be extremely cynical, you could say that is has to do with the commercial value of such an endeavor (something Americans are never shy about pursuing). For a museum like the Baseball Hall of Fame, it adds an essential component to its exhibitions. There can be many baseball museums, but only one where the players long to have a plaque commemorating their greater virtues (a fact that surely adds to the general public’s interest in attending). For the players, there is also a financial upside. Autographs and memorabilia from enshrined athletes skyrocket in value once their name is called at the hall. If a player wants to capitalize on this, it’s easy to make money. Even the media benefits from the whole process. It’s great grist for the mill discussing who should be allowed entry into baseball’s hallowed hall and who doesn’t deserve it. People buy newspapers or watch television shows to follow the arguments and to see how writers voted (in the baseball world, it’s journalists who are the main voters).

Still, while I believe all those elements do have some impact, I think the real reason the hall of fame concept resonates so greatly with the U.S. masses is that Americans love tangible expressions of success. While Europeans simply kept track of goals scored for decades, their cousins across the pond were coming up with more detailed statistics. I’d even argue that early baseball stats were more detailed than even cricket’s comparables. It’s not surprising that sabermetrics – a vastly advanced form of sports statistical analysis started with America’s pastime (and has now bled into other North American sports). Americans are obsessed with definitively pegging the best players. While selecting members of the Baseball Hall of Fame is not as precise a process, the end result tries to reach that same goal. We want to be able to cull out the pretty goods from the greats in some sort of authoritative manner. A hall of fame is perfect for such an exercise.

A second reason why Americans love their halls of fame is that they are a sentimental people. Older fans yearn to reach into the past and pull back their stars. They want to hear them speak of a time when these retired athletes and their aging supporters shared excitement on the field. It’s not that Europeans aren’t sentimental, but the public nature of a player’s enshrinement – the big party and all the attention – does seem particularly American. I know European clubs have benefit matches for their great stars, but it isn’t as grand in scope and absolute in its statement of a player’s greatness as hall-of-fame enshrinement.

Whether Europeans will ever embrace their halls of fame with the same verve as Americans is unclear. There has been a move in soccer to embrace advanced statistical number crunching. This makes it easier to more clearly determine (or at least argue) over who’s the best. Maybe that’s a sign that one day, watching Thierry Henry entering football’s hall of fame will resonate in Europe in the same way that this weekend’s enshrinement ceremony did for Americans.

Thank you, Koman Coulibaly!

Crazy as it sounds, soccer fans in the United States should send thank you cards to the referee from Mali at the centre of an international controversy.

That’s correct, thank him!

Here’s why:  Although unintentional, he is a major reason soccer is afforded a rare opportunity to escape the backseat of the sports vehicle driven domestically by America’s version of football.

His horrendous decision may have prevented the USA from completing a dramatic, come-from-behind victory over Slovenia last Friday, but the attention surrounding the disputed goal has allowed the sport and its biggest event to move to the front seat.

Forget that the boys in red, white and blue came out on their heels and quickly trailed by two goals.  Instead, this game will be remembered for a rousing second half rally led by Landon Donovan that fell short of victory only because Coulibaly’s eyes betrayed him.

Maurice Edu appeared to cap the United States comeback with a goal in the 86^th minute, converting a Donovan free kick.

That’s when Couilibaly, already looking shaky with his game management in his World Cup debut, gave the foul no one else saw.  Yet, his lone whistle would be heard around the world.  Louder than the sound of the vuvuzelas in South Africa, the buzz here in the States is how the American players were robbed of a victory that may prevent them from advancing out of the group stages.

Whether it’s the picture of the controversial moment above the fold in the New York Times, non-stop highlights on ESPN’s SportsCenter, fueling debates on sports talk radio or blogged to death on the worldwide web, that moment, that game and Koman Coulibaly are everywhere.

While some Americans may fail to fully understand and appreciate the nuances of “the beautiful game”, there’s nothing lost in translation when you’ve taken a hard kick to the heart.

However, like the Slovenia game, not all is lost.

Despite the controversial call, the United States earned a 2-2 draw and a valuable point in the Group C standings.  The outcome sets up a huge challenge against Algeria.

If the US wins its final group match, the Americans assure themselves of another match in the knockout phase of the tournament.

But play to another draw or lose to the Algerians, then the picture turns extremely murky and the potential exists that everyone associated with US Soccer deals with a repeat of the past four years of anguish.

For now, soccer fans, rejoice!  The controversy and the importance of the Algeria game for the USA’s hopes, has led to rare anticipation and attention focused on this game on Wednesday.

And for this, we have Koman Coulibaly to thank.