One trick to managing 14 year olds is that there is nothing they love more than vaguely insulting nicknames from their counselors. Somehow this builds bunk unity like a charm. Ho Chi (whose actual name is Adam) told us some weird story about his vietnamese barber, I think, so we went with the famed vietcong leader.
At my camp the names never came from the counselors. One did try to give us baseball-ish names to fit with the theme of our suite (every counsellor's suite had to have a theme) but nobody ever used them. While there's a guy that we still refer to as Boston almost 10 years later. I couldn't supply his real first name if you paid me.
Dammit, now I'm all nostalgic about summer camp. I remember in 8th grade when we had a field day and regular team names were forbidden. So my suite called itself "Andre's House of Body Oil." We were soundly defeated in the silly games they make kids play at summer camp by "The Radioactive Meatballs." Shit, we had cheers and banners and everything. They even made us come up with a theme song. Good times.
I also suddenly want to play four square, spades, and egyptian rat screw. Ah summer camp, how I miss you.