I'm still pissed at a kid named Terrence who pitched for St. Mary Magdalen in the '80s. He was like six feet tall in fifth grade and threw really hard but had absolutely no control. Dude drilled me with and my teammates with so many pitches. I only know his name was Terrence because one of the parents would yell, "Rock and fire, Terrence!" before every pitch. Every time we'd play against St. Mary Magdalen, I'd be like, "Goddamnit, don't they have anyone else who can pitch besides Terrence?" I recall yelling at him once from first base that his parents should've named him Terrible instead of Terrence. People laughed and laughed and laughed. F-ing Terrence.
This is a long way of saying I totally get where you're coming from.