March Madness
Today is the beginning of March Madness, the annual college basketball tournament that graciously allows sports idiots like me to invest in the action with a piss-poor level of information about the teams and players. So how do I wind up doing more research than maybe anyone else? I base my bracket on which mascot would beat their opponent in a fight to the death.
I was inspired to do this back in 2012, when a sports-savvy coworker told me I’d have just as good a chance as her at winning the office pool if I did it this way. I’m not sure that’s true, but I did win once, which is a good enough track record for me. So for years now, I’ve ignored the autofill option and the tiny little ranking numbers that are listed below each team in the lineup. Instead, I Google every single mascot – preferably the latest costumed version and not any real-life creatures. And instead of looking up basketball stats, I consider each mascot’s size and strength, and the weapons and powers commonly associated with them.
Here’s a good example. The Cavaliers-Paladins matchup kicking off the tournament seems evenly matched at first glance:
But when you learn cavaliers are just gentlemen, while paladins are legendary knights known for their magical powers in video games? You go with the Paladins.
The mascots with supernatural powers tend to make it the furthest, allowing me to stick with the Duke Blue Devils as my usual tournament winner. But it’s the fun of looking up the other mascots that keeps me coming back to this insane method of filling out a bracket each year.
There are always familiar mascots that put a smile on my face, like wacky relatives you only see at family reunions: the Gauchos and Boilermakers and Horned Frogs.
There are also certain animals that tend to make the tournament each March: cougars, tigers, and bulldogs. chief among them But the most popular mascot of all, year after year, are wildcats. This year, there are five:
… and that’s if you don’t count the Montana State Bobcats, which are actually a kind of wildcat.
The class of animals dominating the tournament this year, however, are birds. Joining our usual suspects – the Creighton Bluejays and Kansas Jayhawks – are the Iowa hawkeyes, the Oral Roberts Golden Eagles, the Kent State Golden Flashes, Miami’s ibis, and the owls of both Kennesaw State and Florida Atlantic.
While I don’t give these birds much of a chance against heftier opponents, in one case, the bird has a clear advantage: Kent State’s Golden Eagles versus the mascot-less Indiana Hoosiers. I’m experienced enough to know few other people will be betting against the Hoosiers, but I’m also serious about my mascot method. And if your school can’t even decide on one? You don’t deserve my pick.
That brings me to one of the trends I’m seeing with this year’s tournament:
IDENTITY CRISES
Indiana isn’t the only school in this tournament to abandon its pursuit of a mascot. The Illinois Fighting Illini don’t have one, either, after stopping their racist portrayal of Chief Illiniwek in 2007. There’s new interest in replacing him with the belted kingfisher (see! I told you birds were a thing!) but apparently enough alumni are upset about it, that’s stalled.
No mascot, no pick. I chose the Arkansas Razorbacks to beat Illinois today.
Then there’s the San Diego State Aztecs. Theirs is a similar issue to the Fighting Illini, except the 2018 task force that was supposed to reconsider the mascot actually recommended keeping the Aztec, so long as the school added some indigenous education.
Then, there’s the change of face no one asked for: Northern Kentucky’s Victor E. Viking.
In 2015, the Norse warrior on the right made ESPN’s list of the top ten scariest college mascots, so the school released a “kinder, gentler” version, on the left. The Northern Kentucky community was so opposed to it, they voted to bring back the old mascot. Or at least his head. I decided he’s still scary enough to take down the Houston Cougars.
The only really good mascot change among this year’s teams is West Virginia, which chooses a new student each year to become the Mountaineer. This year it’s Mary Roush, the first freshman ever selected – and based on the Alone vibes of this photo, I have no doubt she could turn the Maryland Terrapins into a mean turtle stew in the first round. Go Mountaineers.
Let’s move on to the fun stuff.
THE MASCOTS YOU WANT TO PARTY WITH
Killian the Gael, Iona University
It’s not just that we’re close to St. Patrick’s Day: Killian is the king of school spirit. He drives a golf cart and loves to play cornhole. Plus, he’s on TikTok. You may not be able to kill a husky, Killian, but you can come to my party anytime.
Buster the Bronco, Boise State
This guy looks like BoJack Horseman when he’s manic. No doubt he knows how to destroy a party pad – if not the Northwestern Wildcats.
Clyde the Cougar, College of Charleston
Swinger jokes aside, Clyde comes with pineapple which is both delicious and a Whole Thing in South Carolina. You just know he was raised on good southern hospitality, which tells me we should just let this guy host the party.
Izzy the Islander, Texas A&M - Corpus Christi
He’s in his first season of college ball and the hyper-cool replacement to Corpus Christi’s problematic former tiki mascot. He’s got board shorts, he’s got shades, and he’s got some great dance moves. The clincher to any good party.
THE MASCOTS THAT SEEM HIGH
Mr. and Mrs. Wuf, NC State University
So wuffed, they got married – and botched their names. The Longhorns will trample these two.
Spike, Gonzaga University
This guy’s spent more than a decade in a state where weed is legal, and… it shows. I’m counting on the Grand Canyon Antelopes to bring more energy to the table.
Raider, Colgate University
Two words: eye drops.
THE UNCANNY VALLEY
This term usually applies when robots look so human it’s creepy. The 30 Rock example is “Tom Hanks in the Polar Express.” And in this year’s tournament, we have some fantastic candidates:
Friar Dom, Providence College
Made no less creepy by his own school referring to him as their “current incarnation.” No regrets assuming the Kentucky Wildcats could take Daddy Dom down.
Gideon the Gael, Saint Mary’s College of California
Hair hasn’t been this creepy since The Ring. It doesn’t help that his school has its own ghost tour full of stories about children dying on campus?
Sparty, Michigan State University
It’s the skin folds, for me. Too familiar. But Sparty’s reputation as a strongman and media darling is helping me root for him over the other humanoid candidate he’s facing in Round 1: Tommy the Trojan. And as a Bruin, that’s convenient. Go Sparty.
THE F*CKBOYS
They look like they’ll steal your girl, because they will.
Big Blue, Utah State University
Once suspended for ripping the mustache off another mascot, he also let his own girlfriend disappear.
Rodney the Ram, Virginia Commonwealth University
He looks like trouble. He tends to fly solo. And he’s also a bit of a wedding crasher – though his connection to the bride is special.
Roc the Panther, University of Pittsburgh
He doesn’t even wear pants??
…AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, MY FAVORITE(S)
A quick shout-out to the Blue Blob, who accompanies D’Artagnan of the Xavier Musketeers everywhere he goes:
… but this year, I’ve got to spotlight Cayenne of the Louisiana Ragin’ Cajun.
Here’s the caveat: he may not exist. He disappeared during the 2010s due to apparent budget issues. And while he’s been listed as one of the worst and weirdest mascots over the years, he’s also been listed as one of the best, and he comes from a long line of proud Cajun mascots. One bite of Cayenne, and I have no doubt Tennessee’s Bluetick Coonhound will be down for the count – so let’s just hope Cayenne reappears.
There are weirder things to wish as we go into March Madness – a season that celebrates insane characters and sudden twists.