Mascot Tails
Category: Features
Behind every great university is a great mascot—or so the saying (sort of) goes. Chuckle if you must, but don’t doubt the power of an oversized, furry creature with a fixed expression and a penchant for goofiness to set new standards of enthusiasm and school spirit.
Case in point: Eubie, the University of Baltimore’s newly updated bee mascot, has created bee-mania; from appearance requests to bee T-shirts and car stickers, it’s a lot for one insect to handle.
Fortunately, Eubie has an onsite mentor—a mascot Yoda, if you will—in Paul Walsh, UB’s director of instructional technology, who moonlighted as the Towson Tiger for three years while earning two degrees at then-Towson State University. His alter-ego revealed, Walsh gave us the inside scoop on the life of a mascot.
On his qualifications:
“I didn’t become the tiger … by any screening process. I was friends with the guy who was the tiger before me. He was graduating and had gotten a job [as] the Oriole Bird. He was looking for someone to take over the tiger suit, and I opened my mouth and volunteered. He said, ‘You’re the right size, let’s go,’ and that was pretty much it.”
Keeping the tiger’s identity a secret was no small feat; at Towson’s 1985 homecoming parade, Walsh (left)—who did double duty as both the mascot and student government president that day—throws off any suspicion by posing with a stand-in inside the costume.
On the task at hand:
“There’s something endearing about a mascot because it’s kind of a living caricature … and also something that stirs pride and spirit in a school. I realized that the tiger has a bigger presence … and I took it very seriously.
“There was a certain pride about being the tiger, representing the school I cared about, interacting with kids at games and with people in the stands.”
On establishing his alter ego:
“I realized once I got in the suit that there was this split personality that would come out and that the tiger—gosh, I still talk about him in the third person—would act bigger and do things wilder and crazier than I would.”
On maintaining CIA-level secrecy about the mascot’s true identity:
“I went to great lengths—walking by myself to get from one building to another with the costume in a huge duffel bag or with the head in a garbage bag. I’m sure I looked like a homeless man.”
On the perks of the job:
“Just to be able to mess with people, to get them to laugh, cheer up and have a better day. … There were a few occasions when I just put on the suit and walked across campus, went into the administration building and interrupted meetings or shuffled papers.
“It was also fun to come up to female friends or classmates at games and flirt unmercifully— because I knew who they were, but they had no clue who the tiger was.”
On the perils of the job:
“There’s a certain dehumanizing aspect. Not in a bad way, but … when you look at the mascot, you don’t think there’s a person in there.
Flash forward: After sharing his mascot mojo with the next generation in preparation for Eubie’s debut at the spring 2010 block party, Walsh strikes a familiar pose with his UB protege on the bee’s big day.
“I once dislocated my knee [at a game]; everyone thought it was part of the gag—the tiger fell down, how cute. I couldn’t take the head off and wouldn’t get out of the suit for the team doctor until they put me on a golf cart and drove me to the field house.”
On crowd-surfing in a tiger suit at James Madison University:
“I figured, ‘What’s going to happen? I’m gonna go visit their side [of the field], find their mascot, we’ll play around for a while and I’ll flirt with their cheerleaders. … They fully embraced me and welcomed me over. Then the male cheerleaders and some guys from the band picked me up over their heads and threw me up in the stands, and I crowd-surfed.”
On making a few enhancements to the costume:
“I didn’t think he looked big enough, so I added lacrosse shoulder pads and sewed a butt into the costume. If you’ve got a tail, you have to strut, and you need to have a butt. It was one of my better modifications.”
On channeling the tiger today:
“I learned to make fun of myself and realized I could get up in front of a large crowd. I’ve taught since the early ’90s and sometimes find myself in the same wide stance I was in as the tiger. A mascot, if anything, is confident in a large setting. I think some of that rubbed off.
“I’m still not used to [not being in costume]. I look at some other mascots and think, ‘They’re not standing right.’ It’s like a filmmaker watching someone else’s movies. I’ve had the chance to work with Eubie, though, and he is doing everything right. I hope he’s having as much fun as I had; maybe someday, he, too, might channel his inner bee.”
Tips on Being a Mascot
by Paul Walsh,
the former Towson University tiger
1. Embrace your split personality. One of the greatest things about being a mascot is having an alter ego. Clark Kent had Superman, Peter Parker had Spiderman and you have a license to be silly, playful, mischievous, flirtatious and a complete goof without anyone knowing who you are. But, as they say, with great power comes great responsibility. You can make a fool of yourself, but you are still representing your school. Keep it balanced. If you tousle the president’s hair, don’t forget to get down on one knee and kiss his wife’s hand.
2. Drink water. The idea of dropping 8-10 pounds in a single day may sound too good to be true, but it’s risky. Wearing a fur coat (synthetic fur, my PETA pals) may keep you warm on a November night in Buffalo, but it can be treacherous in Baltimore’s steamy August. You can easily lose weight in a tiger suit, but it’s almost all water. Hours before the game, you should start drinking water to top off the tanks.
3. Guard your tail (or stinger). Maybe it’s the idea of having a tiger rug in front of the fireplace or a trophy to hang on the dorm wall, but your suit is always at risk. Your tail is like a brass ring to some fans. Watch your assets. Check it before each game. Keep a sewing kit in your bag, because you may have your, um, tail handed to you.
4. Have a bag of props. If you want to watch the game, buy a ticket and sit in the bleachers. You are there to have fun and keep up morale. There are always some people watching you instead of the game, so keep them entertained. A few toys help. Super-soakers on hot nights, beach balls, T-shirt cannons, a cape and mask (yes, that’s redundant, since you’re already in costume) or a big flower for a cute girl all keep the fun going.
5. Flirt. Fall in love at least once a game. Love will keep you young. Find someone in the crowd on the end of a row and start with a wave. Blow a kiss. Be a little shy and then go sit in her lap. Keep coming back and make a game of it, holding your pounding heart. However, reference tip No. 1: The downside of having an alter ego who is more popular than you are is that when you take your suit off, the same fan you flirted with for two hours doesn’t know (or care) who you are.
6. Be bigger than life. Swagger, stand with a wide stance, clap broadly, show your muscles, wiggle your tail. After all, you are the BMOC (biggest mascot on campus).
WebExtras
Mascot Tails
: Learn more about what it’s like to shoulder the weight of a massive costume head, not to mention the responsibility of being a school’s most reliable embodiment of spirit.
