The NCAA basketball tournament continues. I have followed these games not for the sporting competition, but for the team mascots.
In choosing spirit animals, some schools have been more imaginative than others. Once you get past the long list of birds of prey, cats, and dogs in pantomime form, you’ll discover some real, live animals: Louisiana State’s tiger, a longhorn steer from Texas, the War Eagle of Auburn (though their team is the Tigers), and the tail-wagging dogs of Tennessee, Texas A&M, and Georgia.
The NCAA basketball tournament continues. I have followed these games not for the sporting competition, but for the team mascots.
In choosing spirit animals, some schools have been more imaginative than others. Once you get past the long list of birds of prey, cats, and dogs in pantomime form, you’ll discover some real, live animals: Louisiana State’s tiger, a longhorn steer from Texas, the War Eagle of Auburn (though their team is the Tigers), and the tail-wagging dogs of Tennessee, Texas A&M, and Georgia.
The University of Colorado lives in both worlds, with Ralphie the real buffalo at some games and Chip, a costumed bison, at others. So does Georgia Tech, its mascot duties split between a 1930 Ford Model A and a costumed Yellow Jacket.
There are plenty of humanoid mascots: Nebraska’s Cornhuskers, Michigan State’s Sparty, UNLV’s Hey Reb, the Purdue Boilermaker, West VA’s Mountaineer, the Duke Blue Devil or Arizona State Sun Devil, the Virginia Cavalier, and Notre Dame’s Leprechaun.
Other animals make the scene as life-sized talismans, like the Miami’s Isis (hard to have a hurricane mascot), Alabama’s Big Al the elephant, Testudo of the Maryland Terrapins (named for a genus of tortoises), and TCU’s Superfrog.
But we are especially fond of selections like the Stanford Tree, Xavier Blue Blob, Pepperdine Waves, Louisiana-Lafayette Cayenne, and the University of Arkansas at Monticello’s Boll Weevil. An “A” for effort goes to Dartmouth students, who filled a void in campus life by creating their own, unofficial mascot, Keggy the Keg. And we applaud clever characterizations by the UC Santa Cruz Banana Slug, Scottsdale Community College’s Artie the Artichoke, and, a personal favorite, the Delta State Fighting Okra.
I once donned a costume in support of a community event. Roaming through a summertime festival attired as a penguin, I experienced the power and responsibility of being a public symbol. It’s as hot as blazes in that outfit, but you’re still expected to dance and caper for the crowd. It is also necessary, unfortunately, to ignore lewd suggestions or outright groping from the more uncouth. Mostly, though, a giant penguin elicits only smiles and laughter.
A much nicer experience was my recent triumph at an Easter egg hunt. Surrounded by grandchildren of the residents of the nursing home where the hunt was held, I shuffled through rooms and hallways as the Easter Bunny.
Though sweating profusely and unable to see through the eyeholes of the giant bunny head, I quickly got into my role, prancing and hopping, wordlessly waving or exchanging high fives with fans young and old. Some of the children were absolutely enthralled, and the nursing home residents took great delight in that reaction.
Everyone wanted a photo with the Easter Bunny. He was the hero of the day. When the event was over, I was sad to take the costume off.
How nice to appear as a mascot that brought such happiness. Maybe I’ll keep an eye out for secondhand bunny disguises. Of course, given how much sweat one produces in such a costume, I’ll watch for dry-cleaning coupons, too.
Pat Grimes, a former South Bay resident, writes from Ypsilanti, Mich. He can be reached at pgwriter@inbox.com
