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June 2, 2017

Listen well: to be a sports mascot is to wear a hair shirt.


These people are flagellating themselves.
After a while, donning the costume comes with mental consequences. Trapped within the padded, poorly ventilated headpiece of every mascot is a madman waiting to come alive. The mascot’s dream is to shed his sweaty cocoon and “be himself,” as a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. We saw this most recently in the case of Mr. Met, who this week offered a lewd gesture to a fan. (It wasn’t the “middle finger,” apparently; Mr. Met, having an even number of digits, is anatomically incapable of that motion.) When Mascots Go Mad

Posted by gerardvanderleun at June 2, 2017 8:44 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.

Your Say

Totally off topic.

Here's how to make a million....

Shrunken-head replicas of Kathy Griffin's (head).

Posted by: Lance de Boyle at June 2, 2017 11:36 AM

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