My name was never original.

When I sat down for Christmas dinner, I would sit next to my Grandpa Bill. At the other end of the table I would see my grandma’s brother, whose name was also Bill.

When I first signed up for a handicap at the Highland View Golf Course when I was 11 or 12, I had to be listed as “Bill Foley Jr.,” even though my dad is not named Bill. That was because we did not want anyone to think my grandpa was a sandbagger.

When I ran the New York City Marathon in 2009, I was one of three guys named Bill Foley competing in the race. While I was happy to take 14,406th place out of more than 40,000 runners, I was disappointed to finish a very distant third in the Bill Foley category that day.

If you mention my name in Ohio, people will assume you are talking about Bill Foley of the Bill Foley Band. Not only is that Bill Foley a great head man for a cover band, he is a hero. Really.

When Mohamed Barry launched an Al-Qaeda-inspired machete attack at a deli in Columbus, Ohio in February of 2016, musician Bill Foley fought him with his bare hands — Rob Roy style — to save the lives of many.

Then there is me, a writer and podcaster who often gets confused for the billionaire Bill Foley who owns the ultra-exclusive Rock Creek Cattle Company near Deer Lodge and the Vegas Golden Knights of the NHL.

Even though my Twitter bio says that I am not the rich Bill Foley (yet), I occasionally get mentioned in tweets aimed at the rich Bill Foley.

One time, a woman went after me because one of the other NHL teams signed a player with a history of domestic violence. She wanted me to condemn the signing.

While I would never sign someone who mistreated women if I owned any sports franchise, I responded to the woman like this: “Lady, a goon is goon.”

More recently, an editor for the Missoulian skipped past my bio and tweeted his congratulations because my Vegas Golden Knights won the Stanley Cup. You would think that a guy whose job is to edit copy would be more astute.

“Hey pal,” I responded. “You’re not getting free tickets.”

I have also been mistaken for Nick Foles by some angry Philadelphia Eagles fans, but those tweets are too ugly to put in this column. My Twitter handle is @Foles74, so I can see where that mistake was made.

It was pretty fun getting mistaken for a quarterback with a Super Bowl ring, even if it was after he had a bad game. I almost always enjoy being in the middle of such a mix up.

Recently, though, I saw something that was not fun at all. My name appeared on the donor list for Republican House candidate Aaron Flint.

No, it was not me. It was the billionaire Bill Foley who gave $125,000 to the Flint campaign for Montana’s First Congressional seat.

I do not point that out to disparage the billionaire. I do not know a much about him personally. I just know he is a successful business man who owns a really nice golf course that I will never get to play, even though I can drive to it in less than an hour.

I also know that he does not like people hunting or fishing on his land — as if a man should ever really be allowed to own a mountain or stream. That does not affect me because I do not hunt or fish. But it sure does tick off some of my relatives and friends who do.

Billionaire Bill Foley seems to be a pretty good NHL owner. His Vegas Golden Knights played in the Stanley Cup Final three times, including their inaugural season of 2017-18. The Golden Knights hoisted the Stanley Cup in 2023 and took Carolina to six games this past June.

The fact that he is a billionaire kind of makes me lean toward disliking him. I would like to think that if I had that kind of money, I would give a ton of it away to worthing people and organizations. I don’t think anybody should have that much money when so many are going hungry.

However, I do not know how much of his money he actually gives away, so I will reserve judgement on that for now.

But seeing billionaire Bill Foley’s name as a donor for Flint, who has made a career by preaching hate toward the LGBTQ+ community on the radio, is very unsettling.

Sure, the billionaire Bill Foley does not seem to be all-in on Flint, judging by the donation size. While that might seem to a lot of money to you and me, it is not to the billionaire. It would be like if I gave a fraction of a penny to the Flint campaign.

For the record, I would not give Flint a fraction of a penny because he pushes hate.

All you have to do is see his despicable anti-trans commercials that dominate our television when we try to watch the news or any sporting event. They are disgusting, to say the least.

As I pointed out in a column a couple of weeks ago, trans-people do not bother anyone. You are probably 10 million times more likely to see your daughter attacked by a frat boy from an Ivy League school than you are to see her hurt by any transgender person.

In fact, every transgender person I have ever meet has been quite friendly and extremely happy. That is because that person is finally living in the identity that fits him or her the best. We should all be so lucky.

I do not understand why they chose that lifestyle, but I also cannot understand how any person can ever cheer for the Green Bay Packers or Dallas Cowboys.

Also, transgender athletes are not competing against your daughter. I know that commercial with the big, ugly man dressed as a woman running against the young girl looks scary, but it is not real.

Even if it was real, any girl over the age of 7 is going to beat that guy in a race the way he was running, but that’s beside the point.

The commercial makes those drag performers look mean and ugly, too. Again, they are not real.

Out of curiosity, my wife and I went to a drag story hour a couple of years ago. We did not see any ugly, scary drag queens trying to indoctrinate children. Rather, we saw some nice people reading books that taught the children — and their parents — that love is love.

Really, that is a beautiful message.

As Walt Whitman wrote, we should be curious, not judgmental.

That was a message comedian Jason Salmon, a recent ButteCast guest, told the audience Friday at the Covellite Theatre. His dad told that to him, and he realized his dad was quoting Whitman when he watched Ted Lasso.

Unfortunately, Whitman, Salmon and Lasso are not on the ballot. But a guy who wants us to hate one and other is, and a guy who shares my name gave him $125,000 to push that hate.

So, please, if you are going to mistake me for another Bill Foley, do not let it be the guy who would do that. I would much rather you mistake me for the Bill Foleys who beat me by about an hour in the 2009 New York City Marathon.

Better yet, mistake me for the Bill Foley of the Bill Foley Band.

Not only is he a hero, he can really belt out a tune.

— This Bill Foley, a hundredaire, can be reached at foles74@gmail.com. Follow him at twitter.com/Foles74 or Bluesky at @foles74.bsky.social. Listen to him on the ButteCast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.