Lions and Tigers and Bears (and Zips and Banana Slugs and Purple Cows) -- Oh, My! | An NCAA Champion

Publish date: 2024-05-03

Big Red

Western Kentucky Hilltoppers

Some schools take months to find their mascots, holding contests, conducting surveys, taking endless polls. At Western Kentucky, things went a little differently: In 1979, student Ralph Carey drew a crimson blob, took it to a mascot committee and presumably stood there slack-jawed when they said, “Yep.” For 38 years, Carey's crimson and gelatinous Big Red has been the symbol of Hilltopper pride, never changing his odd bulbous appearance for anyone — not even consenting to a shave. This spring, the university ran a successful $7,000 crowdfunding campaign to replace the suit, claiming it had suffered the wear and tear that comes with hundreds of public appearances every year. The campaign made no mention of the generations of sweat adhering to this costume's interior.

Jamie Schwaberow / NCAA Photos

Animated Inanimate Objects

Pat Sullivan / AP Images

BIG FACE ON CAMPUS: Syracuse's Orange has had a name since 1990 — it's Otto. The Orange was almost a penguin. And an orangutan. And a troll. Elsewhere, the official website of the Ohio State Buckeyes reports that, "According to folklore, the Buckeye resembles the eye of a deer, and carrying one brings good luck." Ostensibly, so does putting a giant tan-and-brown head on a guy in a striped T-shirt during football games. It sounds weird, but something is working: Brutus Buckeye turned 50 in 2015.

Others You Know: In need of a mascot for its Hilltoppers, Western Kentucky in 1979 settled on Big Red, a furry red blob created by a student. Purdue's official mascot is a mighty locomotive called the Boilermaker Special, but the school is unofficially repped by the Sparty-esque John Henry character named Purdue Pete. The Ramblin' Wreck from Georgia Tech is a spiffy 1930 Ford Model A, done up in a snappy gold with white trim to convey class and swagger. And Wichita State's WuShock — the mascot of its remarkably named Shockers — is described by the school as a "big, bad, muscle-bound bundle of wheat."

Behind The Story

When Champion magazine tried to shoot Tor, the Wheaton mascot, in a fun and ironic setting, life imitated art as Tor got stuck in a turnstile and required Chicago Transit Authority assistance to get free. Jamie Schaberow / NCAA Photos

Like Herding Cats Mastodons

Champion Creative Director Arnel Reynon typically directs the photo shoots for each cover of Champion magazine. But for this issue, he had a different type of art direction on his task list: steering Wheaton’s mastodon mascot, Tor, through a turnstile, taking Trevecca Nazarene’s Troy Trevecca shopping at a local Goodwill store, positioning Florida’s Albert the Alligator in the bunker of a sunny golf course. The byproduct of those shoots can be found in “Lions and Tigers and Bears (and Zips and Banana Slugs and Purple Cows), Oh, My!” (page 48).

For Reynon, the trickiest part of the assignment was folding the shoots into his schedule for other stories — he directed the shoot for Western Kentucky’s Big Red, for instance, en route from Indianapolis to Nashville, Tennessee, for the cover story at Vanderbilt, and photographed the Florida Gator while attending the College Sports Information Directors of America Convention in Orlando, Florida. Reynon linked up with NCAA photographers already on the road to cover other events. “This assignment was an exercise in creativity,” Reynon says, “but also an exercise in logistics.”

The shoot with Wheaton’s two-person, four-legged mastodon proved to be the most harrowing. First, Reynon had to contact the Chicago Transit Authority to OK the shoot, held at a Chicago L-train station. Getting the mastodon stuck in the turnstile was no problem — getting it unstuck and to the train platform was a trickier proposition “because of how humongous the costume was,” Reynon says.

DePaul’s Demon in a Blue Suit, better known as DIBS, was slated to be photographed pondering works from Picasso’s “Blue Period” at Chicago’s Art Institute, but pesky copyright rules precluded a trip to the museum. Next up? A tryout with the Blue Man Group. Once again, a good idea had to be nixed. Eventually, thanks to a bit of improvisation, DIBS found his way to a smart setup on campus cooked up by Reynon and Director of Photography Jamie Schwaberow, who was in town to photograph the Division I Men’s Golf Championships in nearby Sugar Grove, Illinois.

While the pictures that resulted from all the planning — a gator lounging in a sand trap, a mascot contemplating the utility of shaving cream, a Trojan studying a suspicious horse — evoked frivolity, Reynon was surprised to find just how studious the mascots were about being silly. “A lot of these mascots take their jobs very seriously,” he says. “There’s definitely a sense of pride about who they’re representing.” — Amy Wimmer Schwarb

A Few You Don't: If Delta State were to embrace its student-chosen alter-mascot, the Fighting Okra, this category would make a tremendous gumbo when combined with the University of Louisiana at Lafayette's hot pepper, Cayenne. Still, the official Delta State mascot is Mr. Statesmen, a costumed man in a suit. Tulsa's Golden Hurricane are represented by Captain "Cane, a superhero mascot who wields the theoretical power to summon weather, though not the power to explain what hurricanes are doing in Oklahoma. Also, Pepperdine in 2006 introduced a redesigned mascot pulled from its past, Willie the Wave, who works the crowd in Jimmy Buffett shirts and board shorts.

Advantage: You'll probably have the only mascot of its kind.

Disadvantage: You'll possibly be equated with dancing produce.

More Human, Less Costume

Orlin Wagner / AP Images

BIG FACE ON CAMPUS: The mascot-without-a-full-bodysuit draws jeers and cheers without a mask to hide behind. And the Notre Dame Leprechaun pulls off the green suit-and-knickers look with charisma and aplomb.

Others You Know: Chief Osceola of Florida State thrusts a flaming spear into midfield from atop a glorious Appaloosa named Renegade. And since 1934, West Virginia has played home to the Mountaineer, an appropriately outfitted and magnificently bearded mascot who rolls in with full coonskin cap and rifle. (Note: The school maintains the beard is not required.)

A Few You Don't: The Saint Louis University Billiken may resemble a very short Buddha, but he was designed by a Missouri art teacher and illustrator in 1908 as a talisman of luck. It's unclear when the Billiken became linked to the school, but he's definitely the only one in the NCAA.

Advantage: Huge savings on dry-cleaning bills.

Disadvantage: Tryouts are not for the weak-hearted.

No Mascot Whatsoever

Orlin Wagner / AP Images

BIG FACE ON CAMPUS: As it turns out, Stanford's Tree is not the official mascot but a member of the band, which somehow makes less sense. Stanford has no official mascot. The Indiana Hoosiers have no official mascot, owing to the fact that those outside the Hoosier State have to constantly be reminded what a Hoosier is. (And within Indiana, entire books have been devoted to the origins of the term "Hoosier," and none has found a definitive answer.)

Others You Know: In addition to being a misnomer, the Big Ten is unusually low on mascots. Illinois retired its Chief Illiniwek in 2007; the school officially launched a mascot search in the spring of 2016. Michigan dabbled in the field of live wolverine mascots in the '20s, but problems arose when handlers realized the animals could … uh, chew through their cages. Today, the school's athletics department eschews the entire idea, deeming mascots "unnecessary and undignified."

A Few You Don't: Cornell's Big Red Bear is unofficial; the school has no true mascot. And though it is not part of the NCAA, teams from the New College of Florida bear mentioning in the no-mascot category. They compete as the Null Set, or [ ]. "For the record," the school's website reads, "New College officially competes in intercollegiate sailing, as a member of the Intercollegiate Sailing Association of North America, South Atlantic division, and in 2013 actually qualified to compete in the national championship."

Advantage: More TV time for the pep bands and cheerleaders. Also, way lower chance of being mauled by a wolverine.

Disadvantage: Someone's gonna think of one for your school anyway. Best to get out in front of it.

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