Born for the Job: Name Edition.

This soccer referee’s last name, Amarilla, is also the adjective (“Yellow”) used in Spanish to describe the card referees show to players to warn them that they’re pushing it.

One of the World Cup’s most feared adversities is the yellow card; one player being shown two of them in any combination of games during the tournament, is enough for him to be suspended for the next game–and at this point in the tournament, every game is win-or-go-home.

And one of the World Cup refs is named Yellow!

What are your nominations? Major Major Major has to be at the top of the list, of course, while NFL running back Priest Holmes most certainly does not qualify.

My friend Sue is a lawyer.

I’m a law student; I have a classmate whose last name is Lawyer.

When I was on the cross-country team in high school, my coach was Mr. Trott.

And I have a friend–well, an ex-friend–who is a computer guru of some kind. His last name: Hacker.

The weather presenter on our local TV station is Sara Blizzard .

There’s always Becky McSuckadick. She does porn.

Okay, I made that up.

Ah, Nominative Determinism. My favourite. There’s a huge collection over at NewScientist, where I first came across this phenomenon. Cost me many a rib, that has. :smiley:

My daughter has a friend whose last name is Doctor. Surprisingly, both of her parents are doctors.

Great. Now I’ve got that Thompson Twins song stuck in my head.

Local weatherman Frank Fields named his son “Storm Fields.” The son is now a weatherman.

I interviewed for a job at an archaeology firm once. The guy who did the interview was named Dr Jones. I was told of this before the interview so I could remind myself not to say stupid stuff to him in the interview. He had a Raiders of the Lost Ark background which was kind of cool.

Our local optometrist’s last name is Gazaway. Pronounced Gaze-Away, of course.

A long time ago in DC, I saw a shield for a podiatrist named Dr. Korn.

Almost forgot my childhood dentist: Dr. Toth.

Later he took on a partner: Dr. Wissler.

Our family practitioner was Dr. Loveless.

Was he short? :wink:

Everyone’s favorite example was the head of the Catholic Church in the far east for many years: Cardinal Sin.

I swear, I took driving lessons from a guy whose name was “Bob Blinkhorn.” Not only was he a great instructor, he made conehead jokes, too.

My neurologist: Dr. Head

A surgeon our family knew: Dr. Butcher

I knew of a dentist named Slaughter, but I carefully avoided meeting him in person.

Our town had a Dr Skelton. Close but no femur.

My cousin was in the police force, and caused no end of confusion introducing himself as Senior Sergeant Constable. I gather court appearances were briefly quite farcical as the name/rank confusion unravelled.

Our family refers to this as “cognomen syndrome”. Of course all the good examples I have escape me at the moment!

There was an oral surgeon around here named Dr. Cutright.

My husband has a doctor whose first name is Guru. You simply have to trust that man.