Brett Favre may be the simplest example.
The NFL also had Junior Seau.

The NBA currently has Giannis Antetokounmpo and, now, Victor Wembanyama.

Major League Baseball has Shohei Ohtani and Xander Bogaerts.

I’ve got a low-hockey IQ, but Mark Messier and Jonathan Toews come to mind in the NHL.

And it’s not just men, obviously.
The ladies include Nadia Comeneci and Martina Navratilova.

What all these athletes have in common is phonetically challenging names. 
And yet, fans of these sports learned how to pronounce these names perfectly.

Why?

Because the fans cared.
They didn’t want to sound dumb.
Maybe they even wanted to show some respect.

Regardless, fans learned how to say these names correctly.
And they learned to teach others.

These athletes are proof we can pronounce names correctly, if we want to.
If we care enough.

Dale Carnegie was right when he said, “Remember that a person’s name is, to that person, the sweetest and most important sound in any language.”

(And yes, this includes Dick Butkus.)

So, it was with bewilderment and disappointment that I confronted my client.

He was—and is—caring.
He doesn’t want to sound dumb.
He does want to show some respect.

My client had recently hired this "superstar", he called him, named George. George was young, socially intelligent, a quick learner, ambitious, likable, incredibly hard-working, passionate about the construction industry, and bilingual.

My client couldn’t stop raving about this kid.
“George did this!”
“George did that!”
“George is the future of our company—our industry!”

My client was a raving fan of George.

It wasn’t until we were reviewing the Organizational Chart together that my bewilderment and disappointment blossomed.

“Where’s George on the chart,” I asked. “I don’t see him.”
“Right there,” my client said as he pointed.
“Where? I don’t see a ‘George.’”
“Second column from the left, three down.”

“Padilla,” my client said, like it rhymed with vanilla.
“George.”

I closed my eyes.
My chin fell to my chest.
Time for some tough love, I thought.

“Man, you’re constantly talking about how you’re in a war for talent—and how you landed this unicorn named George,” I was doing a poor job of controlling the intensity in my voice, “and yet, you haven’t even taken the time to learn how to say his name correctly!”

I wasn’t yelling, but I was certainly exclaiming.
“Whaddya mean?”

My client was caught off guard by my frustration.

“His name—it’s Jorge Padilla.”
Slowly, I said, (HOHR-hay) . . . (pah-DEE-yah)

Shame is a powerful emotion, so I attempted to inject humor to balance the reprimand.

“His last name doesn’t rhyme with vanilla or chinchilla or the Thrilla in Manila!”

My client felt embarrassed.
He just stared at me.

“You already know this, though,” I began. My client was a longtime, diehard New York Mets fan. “What’s the name of the former Met who hasn’t played in 20 years, but gets paid every July 1 through his ridiculously brilliant deferred contract.”

“Bobby Bonilla!” he yelped.

“Exactly,” I said. “Padilla rhymes with Bonilla.”

My client sat back in his chair.
Now it was his turn for bewilderment.

“No shit?” he uttered. “Huh. I guess like Pancho Villa too, then?”

If you care about the people you work with, you should learn how to pronounce their names. We do this all the time with people we work for—the people above us on the organizational chart always receive extra attention and focus—but we often fail to do the same for the people that work for us.

The fact that Jorge Padilla never corrected his boss’s boss’s boss—the guy whose name is on the building—isn’t surprising.

Some combination of respect, fear, and the survival instinct resulted in Jorge Padilla thinking, “Happens all the time. Call me anything you want, as long you call me employed.”

If you—or people you know—struggle with pronouncing Hispanic names, we can help.
The good news is you don’t have to learn a dozen rules and thousands of first and last names.

The 80-20 Principle—and its visualization as a Power Curve—will efficiently guide you to the vital few first and last names that will most likely cause you problems.

As for the bad news?
There is no bad news.

You will differentiate yourself.
You will build trust faster.
You will show you care.

Let's start with two rules of pronunciation:
1. The La Jolla Rule of Pronunciation
2. The Burrito Rule of Pronunciation

The La Jolla Rule of Pronunciation
(lah HOY-yah)

The La Jolla rule—named after the coastal San Diego area—contains two insights: The J in Spanish makes the H sound, and when two LL’s are placed together, it produces the Y sound.

So, if you have been pronouncing La Jolla as (lah DJAH-lah), well, that explains why people always look confused when you say it—and why that girl from San Diego State never called you back after Spring Break ’99.

Four of the top ten—and eight of the top fifty —most popular Hispanic names have a J in the name. All should make the H sound when you say them.

As for the ladies, the J is less prominent, with only one in the top ten, and four in the top fifty (for a total of 6.0%).

The second insight in The La Jolla Rule of Pronunciation is that when you see two L’s together, it makes the Y sound.
You know this already: the pair of culinary essentials, quesadilla (kay-sah-DEE-yah) and pollo (POY-yoh).

Of the top 100 Hispanic surnames, the La Jolla Rule of Pronunciation will help you enunciate seven (4.1%) of them, including Padilla:

The surname, Villa (see: Pancho), ranked #137. Bonilla (see: Bobby) ranked #140.

Up next is The Burrito Rule of Pronunciation: It simply states that the I in Spanish is pronounced EE.

“Wait, the I makes an E sound?” you say.
“Sounds confusing.”

Just think about going to Taco Bell in your Ford Fiesta (fee-AY-stah) and ordering a Quesadilla (kay-sah-DEE-yah) and a Cheesy Gordita (gohr-DEE-tah) Crunch with Diablo (dee-AH-bloh) Sauce.

Right?
¿Sí?

So, there it is—three insights from two rules of pronunciations:

1. La Jolla: The J makes the H sound and the LL sounds like a Y.
2. Burrito: The I in Spanish makes the EE sound.

Since we're on the subject of names, just think about common Anglo-American nicknames:

• Richard → Dick

• William → Bill

• John → Jack

• Margaret → Peggy

• Charles → Chuck

• Henry → Hank

• Elizabeth → Betty

• Theodore → Ted

A small study guide for the non-native speaker would be helpful, right?

I formally studied the Spanish language for eight years in classrooms in the US and Mexico, and never once did someone say, “Here’s a hot tip for you—because of the immense popularity of a handful of Christianity-based names like José (Joseph), Jesús (Jesus), and Francisco (Francis), there are a handful of common nicknames used to distinguish between members of the same family that share the same name.”

Well, let’s give you what I never got. Here’s the most common Spanish nicknames you’ll hear on the job.

And to tie these phonetic insights together—The La Jolla Rule of Pronunciation, The Burrito Rule of Pronunciation, and Spanish names—you can practice it with nine of the top cities in the US:

In the war for talent, the one unforced error leaders cannot make is mispronouncing your colleagues’ names. Don’t be afraid of saying, “Can you repeat that for me? I want to make sure I get it right.”

If you can master Giannis Antetokounmpo, Victor Wembanyama, Jonathan Toews, and Brett—wait now, I always struggle with this one, because the V is in front (!) of the R.

Brett Fa—
Brett Fav—

Farve.
Brett Farve.

If you can get that right, you can pronounce the names of the superstars on your team.