Several years ago, my cousin (also named Nick) and I joined a local golf club. It was the first time he and I joined a private club instead of playing the usual public courses in the area. For our first round at the new course, we were joined by a father and son twosome on the first tee. After some brief introductions, both my cousin and I pulled out our drivers, while Jim (the father) was ready to hit his five-iron. Jim's son, Sean, was still a junior at the time, so he wanted to caddy for his dad that day. Anyway, Jim hit and landed in the middle of the fairway (of course), while my cousin and I landed near some trees on the right side. As we approached the landing area, Sean spotted a ball under a tree and said, "Here's a ball Nick!" Both my cousin and I looked and started walking toward the ball wondering which "Nick" the boy was talking to. Jim quickly shouted from the edge of the fairway, "If both of you guys are going to play from the trees all day, you'll need different names." Pausing for less than one second, Jim pointed directly at me and said, "You be Big Nick." He then pointed to my cousin and continued, "and you be Little Nick." Since I was (and still am) nearly 6 feet 3 inches tall and about 250 pounds, the name stuck!