I don’t think I could ever be a mascot, because it requires a naturally caffeinated individual: someone who oozes enthusiasm and high spirits for hours on end. I feel asleep at a Bulls game last year. Sober. (To my defense, I was way up in the 300 level, and without glasses. Also, I’m very skilled at falling asleep in odd places.)

Anyway, another key trait of the mascot is to playfully mock the opposition. But one thing you don’t want to do is offend the other team. Especially when it comes to religion. This is America, after all. We sue someone when they look at us funny. Religion, though? That’s just a whole other level.

But Goldy Gopher seems to live by his own code. He went ahead and took it there against Penn State this past weekend:

OH SNAP, did you see how Jerome Hayes, the praying Penn State player, didn’t even acknowledge him after that? He wasn’t too happy about it. As such, Minnesota spokesman Dan Wolter issued the following statement:

“On behalf of Goldy and the University of Minnesota, I want to apologize to the Penn State player involved and anyone else who may have taken offense from this incident. We have reiterated to Goldy the importance of exercising appropriate religious sensitivity in the future.”

I’m glad this story has a happy ending, aren’t you?

When filling out our Division I Tournament bracket, we can determine our projections scientifically, through well-informed analysis, or through a messy hodgepodge of sentiment and blind luck. For many of us, it doesn’t really matter which approach we take, because we’ll lose the pool by dozens of points anyway. Maybe it’s best to throw in the towel and speculate on whether Team A’s mascot could beat up Team B’s literal nickname interpretation.

Well, online sports powerhouse eCollegeFinder has you covered. The College Basketball Nickname Brawl analyzes the nickname matchups in each round of the tournament. For instance, the Connecticut Huskies could certainly win a fight to the death against the UT Chattanooga Water Moccasins, but the author surmises that they could probably be domesticated and put to work in the field for the Texas A&M Aggies. Yep, people who attend agricultural school. Aggies.

This sort of thing has been done before, but the sober, well-considered analysis sets this piece apart. However, the author does seem to hold a significant bias toward lumberjacks. The Stephen F. Austin Lumberjacks could beat up the abstract Syracuse Orange and Temple Owls, sure, but besting the Michigan St. Spartans in the championship? I don’t see it. I don’t see Spartans losing to anyone or anything.

Oh God. Hold on, I need to go re-write my bracket.

A few weeks back, I found out there was an actual person inside Raymond, the Tampa Bay Rays mascot. And that this real, actual person also maintained Raymond’s blog. (This is about the only thing I’ve learned about the world around me since then. I’m really excited for Santa to come in a few weeks!)

This seemingly nice lady inside the Raymond’s costume also claims to have been fired for no good reason. Too bad. But, Raymond will live on, of course. (Of course.) In fact, they’re taking auditions at this very moment.

Among the requirements for the position — technically Mascot/Marketing & Game Entertainment Coordinator — are the ability to pump up the crowd, come up with skit ideas, create costumes and further market the character.

And this:

“Must be able to take on the brand and personality of Raymond, including but not limited to the signature ‘belly-wiggle,’ energetic dance moves, quirky antics and the love for kids, families and the Rays.”

You have until Dec. 31 to apply. Don’t forget the quirky antics. Never forget the quirky antics.

(Gracias, SbB.)

Long-time followers of my blogging, (see: dad, Eamonn) will know my infatuation with Raymond, the Tampa Bay Rays mascot. Mainly, this is because he/she/it (actually, it’s an undiscovered species of dog found at sea known as “Canus Manta Whatthefluffalus,” if we want to get technical about it)  somehow managed to keep a blog with its fat fingers and what I could only assume is an impossibly feeble brain. Also, the mascot is an expert in the art of dance.

So, I was absolutely SHOCKED to learn there’s actually a person in some sort of suit that pretends to be a Canus Manta Whatthefluffalus. It’s all a hoax. Gasp! Also: this person has just been let go:

Performer Kelly Frank, the woman who perfected Raymond’s trademark butt shimmy, said she does not know why she was fired Monday after five seasons with the Tampa Bay Rays.

“I’m just as confused as everyone else,” she said. “I really didn’t get an explanation.”

Frank said she was praised as recently as three weeks ago, when her supervisors told her she out-enthused the Philadelphia Phillies mascot, the Phillie Phanatic, during the World Series.

I’ve been rocked to my core. What’s next? Am I’m going to find out Santa Claus isn’t real and there’s no Tooth Fairy? Or maybe that babies don’t come from a stork?

I sure hope not.

Two schools of thought on Chief Illiniwek: If you went to the University of Illinois, you want to keep the Chief. You want him to do his dance at Assembly Hall; you want him in your heart forever and ever and ever. He is the very fabric of your school’s identity — give us our Chief, or we’ll try to change state law to get him back.

Then there’s the detached approach, those that see a white male — a possible descendant of Native Americans’ oppressors — parading around in their garb, attaching himself to cultural stereotypes. It’s insensitive. Maybe sort of irrational and silly too.

People: you still have the Fighting Illini as your team name. Just because some dude isn’t doing a dance, I think we’ll all be OK. Or not.

Keep reading →

Stealing a rival school’s mascot is perhaps the greatest plot line the high school sitcom has ever seen. Do you remember Season 1, Episode 16 of “Saved By The Bell” in which Zach and A.C. steal Valley’s mascot? I think you do. (If you do not, do you remember how small their gym was? It surely was not regulation size. And why did they always have class in the same room? And what was Screech doing hanging out with all the cool kids? “Saved By The Bell” was not an accurate portrayal of high school.)

BUT ANYWAY, Butler’s mascot’s clothes have gone missing. And they want you on the case.

The costumes have a value of $13,000 and the school said it could take up to two months to replace them. They were last seen in August when they were dropped off at the school by a student who had worn them. But even though they are gone for now, students think they won’t be gone for long.

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It could just be a campus prank but the joke wears off when it comes to supporting the Bulldogs.

“It’s kind of funny up until the game comes around and there won’t be Blue to run around. And then it won’t be funny,” said Monica, a Butler student.

The school is offering a $100 reward for the costumes. Anyone with information can call campus police at 940-9396.

Whoa, whoa, whoa: a $100 reward? It’s time to dust off my magnifying glass and trench coat, daddy needs a new pair of shoes.