Treating Arkansas Razorbacks Commit 'Slim Jesus' with Respect Christian Thing to Do

FAYETTEVILLE, Ark. — Everyone on staff knew it was going to happen. The question was just which member of the "Razorbacks on SI" team would hear about it first and in what setting.

Would it be social media? An e-mail? Perhaps a local grocery store?

Turns out it was church, which was fitting considering the context. During Monday's general team discussions, it was revealed someone at one of the state's many houses of worship wandered up to a member of the staff and expressed the need to for the staffer to feel shame that it had been published that 5-star forward Miika Muurinen, a recent Arkansas signee from Finland, is often better known as "Slim Jesus."

Let's start by saying there was an assumption everyone knew we didn't give him that nickname, but there are certainly people acting like we did. It's a nickname the young man had well before he was on the recruiting radar with our staff.

It was also always safe to assume the young man didn't give himself the name either. While it's a common actual name in South American culture, it's hard to imagine anyone, well almost anyone, intentionally seriously depicting themselves as Jesus Christ in any manner, even by way of nickname.

As everyone knows, nicknames are bestowed upon a person, usually by a small group of close friends who latch onto a saying and refuse to let go of it until the target of the nickname relents and sticks with it. The only other way is run into former president Joe Biden in the vicinity of a public pool in Scranton, Pennsylvania and he will formally issue a nickname much in the way the king of queen of England knights someone.

It's a process so well known as far as not being in a person's control that comedians have joked about it for decades.

"When I was growing up, our parents let us play in the street, climb trees and blow stuff up," DryBar comedian Brad Upton says about midway through his special "I'm Not Done Yet." "And you know what happened if you got hurt or maimed? You got a new name."

Upton goes on to tell the story of two of his friends, Aimer and Niner, who were given nicknames by their friends at such a young age they didn't recognize Aimer's real name of Ross when it was called out in third grade class. Aimer, who damaged an eye so it looked like he was squinting while taking aim with a gun at all times, let the teacher know only his mother calls him Ross.

As for Niner, he fell out of a tree and ripped most of one of his fingers off on the way down trying to stop himself. No longer having 10 fingers, his young male counterparts had no choice but to call him Niner for the rest of his life.

As for "Slim Jesus," he will be called that for the duration of this story because if his real name is used, readers will either forget who is being talked about because of lack of recognition or get stopped down trying to figure out how to say it in their heads. He too had his nickname forced upon him.

The easy assumptions were someone saw his silky smooth moves and thought he looked like Jesus walking on water. Or perhaps they saw him glide for one of his patented dunks and thought it resembled the Lord ascending into Heaven.

Turns out it was neither. Of course it couldn't be something so mundane.

Instead, it's a story that is both unbelievable and, yet so totally believable, that it definitely stands out. In quite possibly the most Gen-Z scenario to ever exist, Slim Jesus was playing in a social media focused high school basketball league named after a rapper and founded by a 24-year-old social media influencer, Cam Wilder, who apparently doubled as his coach.

Every decision in the league was made to drive clicks. So, one day, according to the infamous forward's recount of events to his former EuroLeague team, Partizan Belgrade, Wilder leaned into the huddle and, out of nowhere, suggested everyone refer to Muurinen as "Slim Jesus."

"After practice, he was doing half-court shots, and then we were in a huddle, and he was talking to the players, and then he just said 'Should we call this dude Slim Jesus?'" Murinen said. "That's kind of how it started."

Before he had a clue what was really happening, the marketing arm had already begun to swing in full effect, as it often quickly does in the world of social media influencers. One minute he's Miikka Muurinen, relatively unknown high flyer from Finland, the next, he's Slim Jesus, YouTube basketball sensation who blew up in a single summer with his own praying emote.

Trying to do what he could to please his coach and support Wilder's efforts to build the Slim Jesus brand, Slim Jesus eventually agreed to break out a quick praying hands celebration every now and then after big plays rather than something like the needle injection emote often used by American college players.

Pogledajte intervju sa Mikom po dolasku u Beograd na https://t.co/GXqWoNg9Qs u 10h🔗#KKPartizan pic.twitter.com/ftJdyE2h9a
— KK Partizan Mozzart Bet (@PartizanBC) September 28, 2025

So, certain people across the state of Arkansas might not be comfortable referring to Muurinen as Slim Jesus, and that's OK. It will end up being his name in their heads, but it's their religious right to call him by his given name verbally so long as they make an honest effort to say it correctly.

However, while being offended, don't take it out on the young man, nor the people who report on him. Neither party gave him the nickname.

He's stuck with it. So, in the proper Christian manner, welcome the Hogs' newest acquisition with open arms and treat him with the love and respect commanded by the actual Jesus.

Save the explicit hate for those who don't know any better.

Hogs Feed:

Add us as a preferred source on Google