Going on Striker
Mascots have always held a special place in my heart (somewhere between the right ventricle and the tricuspid valve), so it was a near-fantasy when I recently got the chance to play "Striker," the mascot for the Chicago Storm. First, let me thank the team for staking its reputation on me, and allowing me to wander its arena and harass its fans. I imagine a request to play Benny the Bull would not have been so generously granted.
I'm also thankful because in one half of a soccer game as Striker, I dropped those pesky 12 pounds I've been meaning to lose. I haven't sweat that much since donning a rubber suit and riding a stationary bike the night before my final high school wrestling match. But don't feel bad for me. Feel bad for the guy who had to play Striker in the second half. He actually thought a can of Febreeze would conquer that stench.
It's difficult for me to describe what wearing that suit felt like- actually, imagine having your body ensconsed in shag carpet. Every inch of my being was covered in fur, save for my head- that was disguised by a 37-pound helmet, which didn't rest quite properly on my neck. Anytime I walked forward, the helmet rocked back, and vice versa. I'm currently seeing an accupuncturist for it.
But the pain was worth it, because everyone loves a mascot. I learned that at no other time in life are people friendlier to a stranger, than when he's wearing a mascot costume. I had people offering me their children, women grabbing me, grown men allowing me to sit in their laps. For all these people knew, I could have been Son of Sam under that mask! I must have taken 2 dozen pictures with somebody's kid in a headlock.
On the other hand, there were some children I would have killed to slap a headlock on, maybe follow it up with a German suplex (the two moves transition nicely). Some kids think it's cool (and their parents cute) to mess with the mascot- pull his tail, smack his head, call him names and run. First off, had I been able to run in those damn fur slip-ons, I may have given chase. But ultimately, I'm sure my better judgement would have prevailed.
A mascot is held to a higher standard.
http://www.myspace.com/pattomasulo
Comments
Pat,
I can totally relate. I was once the Kentucky Fried Chicken at the Lake County Fair (I know, I know, dream job eh)! In addition to it being 95 degrees out side, the head was paper mache`, weighed about 40 pounds and had no padding. By the end of my shift, I would have gladly mangled the kid's who were so fond of pulling on my beak. My neck and shoulders were black and blue for a week. Well done Bro! Love you in the morning too!
Mol
Posted by: MsFrankie | March 28, 2007 3:23 PM
Brilliant. You are so much fun to watch. I don't know which "costume" I like better the clubgear in the miami segment or this one. Either way, you are adorable!
Post the race! I missed it this morning.
Posted by: maria | March 28, 2007 6:10 PM
Being carded while in the costume? Funny. The elderly man ignoring you because a nubile young thing passed by? Hilarious. I love your little video segments (porn mustache, chillin' with the elderly in Miami, etc.)
Posted by: Jess | March 29, 2007 10:40 AM