March Madness 2025
It’s that time of year again. The cherry blossoms are blooming, false spring is in the air, and I’m staying up late on a weeknight Googling collegiate mascots. After being the only person in America to visit Japan this year, I am more convinced than ever that mascots are a valuable part of human society, especially in trying times. So take joy in what I’ve discovered, by once again basing my men’s tournament bracket off which mascot would beat their opponent in a fight.
OLD FRIENDS
At this point, it’s like an annual exam to see if I can remember a school’s mascot before looking it up. Auburn? Tigers. Michigan State? Spartans. Alabama? They’re the Crimson Tide, but aren’t they embodied by some kind of elephant? They are.
When I pull up the images, the mascots come to life: not just the Auburn Tigers, but sweet old Aubie, pantless and whiskered. Not just the Michigan State Spartans, but Sparty, the handsome soldier with the skin folds. Not just some kind of Alabama elephant, but Big Al with the poorly-constructed trunk.
Each year, I pit these old friends’ enduring qualities against those of new opponents: a hornet, a merman, a Mel Gibson-esque Colonial madman. Unlike other bracket participants, I can’t guarantee any loyalty to teams who make the tournament year after year. Sparty, for instance, doesn’t come with a sword or shield. How is he supposed to defeat UC San Diego’s King Triton, who is literally named after the weapon he carries?
I also get the annual experience of calculating the most popular mascot types. This year the men’s tournament boasts at least six bulldogs, four tigers, two wildcats, two cougars, and two cardinals — all par for the course. That said, there are always new facts to discover in my research, like how the University of Michigan got a stuffed wolverine mascot named Biff from the Hudson’s Bay Company in the 1920s, which crucially, they kept on a leash.
NEW FRIENDS
Googling 64 mascots gets tiresome each year, but my sweet reward is meeting new mascots. Here are some of my favorites this year.
Tony the Landshark, the anthropomorphic new-ish mascot of Ole Miss. Tony is named after a former linebacker who created a badass “fins up” gesture. I decided Tony could rip both UNC’s ram and Lipscomb’s bison to shreds.
Zippy the kangaroo, a rare female mascot. Zippy became Akron’s representative thanks to a student vote meant to honor the city’s rubber history, specifically the zippers on galoshes. I really wanted to honor the nerds’ dedication to their local manufacturing community, but Zippy doesn’t even wear galoshes, and Arizona’s wildcat was simply too equipped to Zippy down. Better luck next year, girlfriend.
While older Catholic and Christian schools have sent archaic mascots to this tournament for some time, this year we got some younger religious energy in Liberty’s Sparky the Eagle and BYU’s oddly human (now-out of the closet!) Cosmo the Cougar. Denying everything terrible I know about Liberty as an academic institution, I faithfully backed Sparky to take down the Oregon Ducks, and Cosmo, the VCU Rams. (Update: neither won.)
Finally, there’s Texas Tech’s contender: the Red Raider. He’s one of few mascots with a gun — sometimes even packing two — which suggested he could easily defeat most oppponents who try to mess with Texas. On my bracket, the Red Raider takes down a seahawk, a bulldog, a boar, and a soldier to face the aforementioned King Triton in a battle of weaponry. The Red Raider’s disturbingly American double pistols make Texas Tech my tournament champions.
FAIR FIGHTS
Not every bracket decision is a no-brainer. Each year, a good third of the games beg additional research, turning a casual evening of “doing my bracket” into an hours-long crticial thinking extravaganza. Here are the match-ups that took me the most time this year.
First, a level of bird-on-bird action you haven’t seen since Portlandia: Louie the Louisville Cardinal versus Billy the Creighton Bluejay. Louie has inarguably had the better glow-up over the years, but would a handsome cardinal be able to beat a much larger bluejay? Turns out, the answer is yes: male cardinals are very territorial, especially during mating season. While bluejays are known for their intelligence, I gave Louie the benefit of the doubt, especially since Billy was designed to look “like he swallowed something that gave him a bellyache.”
Anyone watching the Yale-Texas A&M matchup may spot two live canines sitting courtside: Handsome Dan the bulldog and the mixed-breed Reveille X. Both pooches boast a strong Instagram presence, which earns any mascot points in my book. But in most of his pics, Handsome Dan looks like a stressed-out dad, while the more energetic “Miss Rev” is the highest-ranking member in her school’s Corps of Cadets. If she falls asleep on a cadet’s bed, the cadet has to find somewhere else to snooze, because she outranks him. Queen.
At first glance, Saint Mary’s Gideon the Gael is a solid competitor for Vanderbilt’s Mr. Commodore, both beefy boys who would stand a good chance on Love is Blind. But what makes Gideon a strong contender for a dating show is his weakness in March Madness: he has too much face and not enough clothes — both liabilities in a fight to the death, not to mention his lack of career. Point Vanderbilt.
Finally, the fairest fights of all: when two of the exact same animals face off, and I make decisions based on vibe alone.
In Round 1’s cougar match-up, I chose Houston’s Shasta to slay Eddie of SIU Edwardsville. Why? Because Shasta has personality and posture, while Eddie looks like a shruken antique teddy bear your grandma tells you not to play with.
In the Midwest, the Gonzaga Bulldogs play the Georgia Bulldogs, two of the most bottom-heavy faces you’ll ever see. But while Gonzaga’s Spike looks like he’s about to cry, Georgia’s “Hairy Dawg” beckons you to try him. You gotta go with Georgia.
AND THE AWARDS GO TO…
The last time I wrote about March Madness, I described the “uncanny valley” frequently occupied by collegiate mascots, when non-humans look so human it’s creepy. This year, it is my honor to give the Uncanny Valley Award to Rowdy the Cowboy of Mcneese State. Not only was he named after Clint Eastwood's character on the "Rawhide" — look how well he blends in with actual humans!
McNeese fans making a live action Toy Story.
On the other side of the uncanny valley is Purdue’s Boilermaker. This isn’t the first year Purdue’s made the tournament, nor is it my first year assessing how its Indiana tradesman would fare against other masocts — but it is my first year finding this photo. Against an army of other contenders, the Nightmare Fuel Award goes to Purdue Pete.
Some awards are created around the recipient. This year, the inaugural Derp Award goes to Boss the Wofford Terrior. No look is derpier than when he wears his vintage football helmet, but also, say his name five times fast.
Finally, back by popular demand (two people commented on the last writeup), we have the F*ckboys — and how! In my thirteen years of mascot-based brackets, I’ve never encountered such a stacked slate of dangerous hotties. The Big Dance card is full. Moving right past several men in short skirts, allow me to introduce you to:
Emmit the Mount St. Mary’s Mountaineer. Emmit is named after the local town and looks like a guy on every straight girl’s Hinge account. He hikes, he camps, he participates in service trips, and he presumably eats exclusively red meat.
Big Blue the Utah State Aggie, who remains anonymous (that’s hot) and used to wear rubber boots to protect the basketball court floor. That’s respectful — and our second mention of rubber boots.
Durango the Omaha Maverick, whose whole thing is “blazing your own trail, challenging the norm, and charging full speed ahead.” (Plus, he has his own GIF collection.)
Alberta the University of Florida Gator, who came along in the 80s with her perfect nails and lipstick to friend zone historic mascot Albert.
But only one mascot can be our F*ckboy of the Year, and this year, that honor goes to Monte the University of Montana Grizzly. Monte not only DJs and does flips, but rides a motorcycle, all in a bandana that would make Bruce Springsteen jealous. Congratulations, Monte.
THAT’S ALL, FOLKS
We’ll see how my bracket’s boyish reliance on weaponry and tonnage pans out in this year’s men’s tournament. Next year, I’ll be exploring the mascots of the women’s tournament, making new foam and felt friends as women’s sports surge in popularity. Better late than never.
Happy March Madness!