Mr. Met Â© 2014 MLB Advanced Media
Life as a Mets fan, as any fellow masochist will tell you, can be trying. In 1962, the Metsâ first year in the National League, the team went 40-120. In the more than half-century since, the Mets have had their moments, including World Series titles in 1969 and 1986, but the good teams have been few, and the miserable ones, plenty. In 2009, the Mets moved into the glorious Citi Field, and ever since, the team has bled fans and slashed payroll. The owners, who were fleeced by Bernie Madoff,Â will go into 2015 owing $600 million to the bank.Â Oh, and Matt Harvey, their fireballing phenom, blew out his elbow last summerÂ and probably wonât be back this season.Â Letâs go, Mets!
Fortunately, in the form of a polyurethane hero, lives a rock upon which joy and laughter are built, regardless of the score â a totem to lift the heads of the weariest fans and bring a smile unto their faces. Meet Mr. MetÂ (and donâtÂ forget the missus!)
Last Sunday, I went to a game â Mets Win! â with my wife and daughter, where we spent a couple of innings waiting in line for the Mr. and Mrs. Met photo op. It was totally worth it, and extra special this time around, due to my deeper and richer understanding of the mascotâs life thanks to AJ Mass' delightfulÂ Yes, Itâs Hot in Here: Adventures in the Weird, Woolly World of Sports Mascots.Â Mass, age forty-three, writes forÂ ESPN.com's Rumor Central andÂ wore Mr. Metâs sacred giant baseball noggin from 1994-97.
Yes, It's Hot in HereÂ is a mix of history, lore, interviews with other famous mascots, and riotous anecdotes like one about the Secret Service telling him theyâd go for the âkill shotâ if he approached President Clinton during a game honoring Jackie Robinson. It also details his past-his-prime 2012 comeback, in which he tries to reclaim some of the old mascot glory by suiting up as a crustacean for the Lakewood, New Jersey BlueClaws.
More than anything, I was struck by the wisdom dispensed withinÂ Yes, Itâs Hot in Here. I spoke with Mass, and a few other sports fellas, about what our fuzzy friends can teach us. Presenting, âNine Mascot Life Lessons,â one for each inning of life.
1 ) Itâs Whatâs on the Outside That Counts
"Carolina Hurricanesâ mascot Stormy the Ice Hog, which is to say the man inside the Stormy the Ice Hog costume, is hilarious, gregarious, charming, short, and was wearing a tuxedo tee-shirt when I met him. He will be the first to tell you that he isnât the important one. The guy in the bag, meaning the Stormy Suit, is," says Hunter Whitworth, aÂ PasteÂ writer who recently, on behalf of The Classical,Â attended a birthday celebration for Stormy, an NHL mascot.Â âThe man will skate flawlessly, in full anthropomorphic pig regalia, sometimes while strumming a guitar, or while playing musical chairs. The crowd loves Stormy. They have no idea who the man behind Stormy is, and heâs fine with that. He brings enormous joy to literal thousands, but heâs wearing a disguise. Heâs the hero Gotham needsÂ andÂ deserves, if that hero was a giant pig on skates (it totally is).â
2) Donât Judge a Mascot Until Youâve Walked a Mile in Webbed Feet
For the most partÂ Yes, Itâs Hot in HereÂ is lighthearted and whimsical, but there are hazards of the job. For instance, mascots holding babies is a no-no for both parties. The little one can defile a suit in an instant, and the big one, says a former Mr. Met, has just four fingers, which arenât made for gripping. There are serious work-related issues as well.Â The mascotâs craft is generally disrespected: Professionals are paid scant wages, often with no health insurance, and they suffer their share of injuries. There are a litany of mishaps, including the fate of a Phoenix Gorilla who face-planted into the rim while dunking and subsequently had to eat through a straw for a few weeks. As former Phillie Phanatic Dave RaymondÂ believes, âThere is power in having fun, and itâs essential to stop the fun-killers from winning the day.â True that. Just know for the most part, mascots arenât making the scratch they deserve.
3) When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Chicken Soup
âDuring my childhood, and really every subsequent childhood after that, the San Diego Padres were a terrible team. We had very little to root for besides Tony Gwynn, but he usually only came to bat once every three innings. In the meantime we had to amuse ourselves. That's why the San Diego Chicken became very important for us. He was funny and entertaining. It was impossible not to watch him whenever he came on the field in between innings,â says Jorge Arangure Jr., a baseball writer for theÂ New York TimesÂ andÂ Sports on Earth. âSometimes, you'd rather watch the Chicken in the stands than the Padres on the field. And then something amazing happened. The Chicken became nationally known. He would make appearances at other ballparks. All of the sudden, something about our lowly Padres was actually good. It wasn't the team on the field, unfortunately. It was a guy in a chicken outfit, but as a Padres fan, you take what you can get. â
4 ) You Will Pay a Price for Having a Swelled Dome
The 1994 All-Star game was held in Pittsburgh, and a local riverboat company, Gateway Clipper Fleet, invited all the major league mascots to ride their vessels as a P.R. stunt. The escapade turned into an early morning jaunt with Willard Scott and "The Today Show." As Mass says, âI was left by myself on the dock for the next three hours, sadly waving my puppet arm at the small handful of people who happened by.â Mr. Met, it turns out â in the most literal metaphor of the perils of egotism on record â couldn't fit on board because of his giant head.
5) And Yet, Some Personâs Ego Will Always Be Bigger Than the Costume
There is an amusing subplot inÂ Yes, Itâs Hot in HereÂ about what a world-class shitheel the San Diego Famous Chicken is. Heâs the anti-Stormy the Ice Hog, apparently. In 1979, a police motorcade accompanied a ten-foot Styrofoam egg from which the Chicken was hatched in front of 47,000 people. Perhaps such early and excessive attention was the feathered equivalent of an athlete getting too much, too soon. Is that what led to the entitlement of his early career moves, which included swigging from fansâ beers and pulling down womenâs tube tops? Aim for the respect of your peers, Mr. Famous Chicken, because, frankly, weÂ donâtÂ know who you are. To us, you are merely molting minor-league poultry.
6) Teach the Children Well Today, Have Fans Tomorrow
âI always knew that the vast majority of people in the stadium, did NOT come to see Mr. Met. I get that. But, you can't deny that it might very well be the case that â for at least some of the kids in attendance â the mascot might well be the main reason they were excited about coming to the game,â says Mass. âAnd if the person portraying the mascot doesn't interact well with those fans of the future, then there's a good chance that when those kids grow up and have kids of their own, the last place they'll want to take their family will be the old ballgame.â
7) Human Nature Abhors a Story Vacuum
âMy friends and I used to spend several innings each game debating the origin story of Exposâ mascot Youppi!, as if he were a member of the X-Men. We finally concluded that he was once a cat who got stuck up on the Big O's orange [stadium] roof, was struck by lightning, and magically transformed into the giant, furry, orange beast who lives on today,â says Jonah Keri, a baseball writer for GrantlandÂ and the author of the Montreal Expos historyÂ Up, Up, and Away.
8)Â âLaughter is Like Changing a Babyâs Diaper...â
â...It doesnât change anything permanently, but it sure makes things bearable for a while.â This pitch-perfect Zen koan comes courtesy of Dan Meers, who was the Chiefsâ K.C. WolfÂ for twenty-four years. Unfortunately, Meers was seriously injured in a zip-line gone wrong last season.Â Hereâs hoping heâs back to making life bearable again real soon.
9) When Itâs For the Kids,Â Itâs. For. The. Kids.
Massâ mascot life came full circle last October when his son Xander, âarmed with papier-mĂąchĂ©, and the help of an incredibly artistic mother, went trick-or-treating as Mr. Met.â Itâs a sweet ending, but an even more unforgettable scene comes when a father breaks down bawling to Dinger, the Colorado Rockies dinosaur. His young wheelchair-bound daughter had recently passed away, but until the end, she reminisced about playing with Dinger at a game. It was one of her happiest memories. Remember, grown folk. Itâs not about your clever quips or drunken antics. Itâs about the mascots. And the kids.
Oh and one more thing, it is hot as hell in there. Stop asking.