Wednesday, August 17, 2005
It’s tryout day for Big Jay and Baby Jay. Every year, former mascots judge a competition for a select few who will be chosen to don the costumes and become the birds. It is obvious who is trying out for what in the Student Recreation Center because of the stark contrast in height. Big Jay can be anywhere from 5 feet 9 inches to 6 feet 2 inches and Baby Jay is usually 4 feet 9 inches to 5 feet 2 inches. Eight people — five Big and three Babies, a small crowd for tryouts — are all walking to warm up. Cat Jarzemkoski, spirit squad coordinator, enters and keeps her distance from the “smelly” uniforms as she begins to measure students. To be picked, a student also has to fit into Big and Baby Jay’s uniforms. The applicants struggle to get into the padded undergarments of Baby’s bulging belly and Big’s bulging biceps. After that, they slide into the furry blue suits and try to put on their big, yellow shoes — which is challenging considering they can’t see their feet. Then, they strap on the heads of the birds and take off on their first steps out of the nest. The Baby Jays are skipping, hugging and holding hands, as Big Jay struts his stuff. Someone forgot to pack one of Baby Jay’s tailpieces and one of the former mascots referred to its rear end as a saggy diaper. After all, Baby Jay is still a toddler. And it takes on the mentality of a three year old: innocent, mischievous and known to throw a tantrum of two. Big Jay, on the other hand, is Baby’s adult friend and protector. He rules the world.
During the Bleeding Kansas days in the 1850s, “jayhawker” was the name given to a Free Stater by pro-slavery advocates. Eventually, the name lost it’s negative connotation and was embraced by Lawrencians as a term of endearment. The actual bird is mythical and is a hybrid of two common birds found in the area: the hawk and the bluejay. It became KU’s official mascot in 1912, replacing the Bulldog.
During tryouts, the birds perform the smooth motions of the Rock Chalk chant, execute the fast-paced kicks of the fight song, perform and original skit and, or course, improv. One of the funniest skits was “Baby Jay’s Three Favorite Movies:” Napoleon Dynamite’s show-stopping dance performance, a bathtub scene with fighting shampoo and conditioner from Billy Madison and a dancing scene with Patrick Swayze from Dirty Dancing.
For the improv, the judged asks the birds to act as if they are being attacked by bees, hit in the head by a kid with a baseball bat, thrown into a swimming pool and walking on the moon. The improv is a test of how well each applicant reacts and animates themselves on the spot.
History
The term “mascot” originated in the late 1800s with a comedic French opera called La Mascotte, by Edmond Audran. The play focused on a farm girl who — as long as she remained a virgin — brought good luck to whomever possessed her. In 1882, the opera played in Boston’s Gaiety Theatre, charming the high societies of Harvard, Princeton and Yale. Thus, the term “mascot” became known as a person, animal or figure that brought fortune.
Before universities adopted mascots as their symbols, many were known for their colors. Harvard is usually credited for being first when it took on crimson as its school color, says Roy Yarbrough, who Sports Illustrated has called the “Guru of Mascotology.” In 1929, The University of Illinois was the first school to have a character as a defining symbol. It chose a Native American to dress in costume.
Once schools began organizing sports teams, it was only natural that mascots — the entertaining, good-luck charms of university athletics — also grew in popularity. Many mascots were invented by the power of the press. For example, in 1893, the University of Richmond chose the spider as its mascot when The Richmond Times-Dispatch reported that pitcher Puss Ellyson — with his flailing arms and legs — looked like a spider. Some universities even used real animals as their mascots, such as the University of Georgia, which adopted the Bulldog, the beloved pet of one of its coaches, as its mascot. However, once schools realized that animals needed a lot of attention, they converted to using people in costumes, which isn’t cheap. “Mascots started with students dressing up in school colors, or whatever they had lying around,” Yarbrough says. “Now costumes cost anywhere from $4,000 to $40,000.”
Mascots are marketable and bring in big money for universities. Commercial entities pay $100 an hour plus mileage for up to two hours of our own Big Jay and Baby Jay. Ohio State University has sold $3 million worth of memorabilia thanks to mascots, according to Yarbrough.
So what makes mascots so popular? Part of the reason is that people can touch mascots while they’re not allowed to touch the players. Mascots show school identity and act as role models for children.
The term “Jayhawk” goes back to the mid-1800s, when the border between Missouri and Kansas became a battleground. The term “Jayhawkers” refers to Kansans who would cross the border, steal, loot and free slaves. The Jayhawk itself is an odd cross between a bluejay, known to ransack the nests of other birds and attack much bigger animals; and, a sparrow hawk, known for its hunting. The Jayhawk’s image has changed since its first drawing in 1912 when the cross-legged, smiling figure peculiarly began wearing shoes. It was replaced in 1920, 1923, 1929 and 1941. “Jay,” the first live mascot, didn’t come about until the 1960s, and “Baby Jay” hatched onto the 50-yard line during a football game in 1971.
E.H.S Bailey, professor of chemistry in 1886, came up with the cadence and rhythm of the chant listening to the sounds of a train he was traveling on. Originally, the words to the chant were “Rah Rah Jayhawk, KU” repeated three times. Eventually, an english professor suggested a change to “Rock Chalk Jayhawk. KU” - a juxtaposition of the words in chalk rock, a type of limestone found around Mt. Oread.
Bird Brains
Most of this year’s mascots say they never noticed Big Jay and Baby Jay until they thought about trying out. Chelsea Demars, Keller, Texas, graduate, says she used to hug the mascots and thought they were funny, but also thought they stunk. She never imagined being inside one. After two years of giving spirit to Baby Jay, she now has respect and a cool perspective on all the personalities at sporting events. “I see them all, from rowdy people who beat me up to kind children.”
The mascots have various reasons for why they wanted to, literally, become Jayhawks. Demars and Kate Eichten, Topeka, graduate, both around 5 feet 2 inches, say their height influenced them to try out. “There’s not a lot you can do when you’re short,” she says. Jesse Plous, Leawood, senior, and Big Jay for one year, was overcome by the spirit of the Jayhawk at Traditions Night. Among the thousands of students, Plous found himself singing the alma mater and swaying arm in arm with complete strangers. “I knew then there was something different, something special, and I realized how proud I was to be a Jayhawk,” Plous says.
Bird’s Eye View
The mascots love what they do but wearing the costume isn’t always the best part of the job. The mascots have a totally different experience than most students while attending games. The suit is not the most comfortable thing to wear. As Nick Erker, Wellington, graduate student, and Big Jay for two years puts it, “It’s really, really, really hot.” Even while it might be 30 or 40 degrees outside, it is still around 100 degrees in the suit, he says. The birds have to be in constant motion, which is like working out in a fur coat with weights in it. The heads are heavy. They reduce normal vision about 90 percent. The mascots have a lot of trouble walking down stairs and often plow over kids who run up and grab their legs.
Before games, the mascots have an adrenaline rush. Demars thinks about looking peppy, which she says is hard, especially if she’s hungover. She is always thinking about being more animated and making people laugh. Elaine Jardon, Overland Park, junior, hopes she remembers the complicated pre-game routine but also says there is some goofing off before the game. “Most of the time we’re just messing around,” she says. “Unless the suit is not all there and then it’s a wild goose chase to find Baby Jay’s left wing or something. Then we’re all laughing and trying to find it.” For this reason, Tim Welch, Salina, junior, says he always has a checklist in his head before a game. With gloves, shoes, tail and all, it’s a lot to remember. Erker just hopes the team wins. “It’s hard to be peppy when we’re losing,” he says.
During games, the mascots mostly concentrate on not yelling and actually paying attention to their surroundings. Each of the mascots have a loud voice. But you’d never hear it on the football field, the basketball court or the baseball diamond, because Big Jay and Baby Jay have to keep their mouths shut. The atmosphere of a game is much like an obstacle course for mascots. Plous says he primarily looks for hazards like small children and steps, then checks on how the team is doing and then tries to remember to wave to the crowd occasionally. After games, the mascots fight their way through a sea of people wanting pictures and autographs to make a mad dash for water, air and a shower.
A Little Bird Told Me
Being a mascot means never having a dull moment — and the mascots have many funny stories to share. Demars remembers in her first year as Baby Jay when the University of South Carolina’s Gamecock got a little feisty. Demars ran away, but when Big Jay innocently went to say hello, the Gamecock started wailing on him. Erker will always remember his first appearance as Big Jay at the opening of a hair parlor because he had to jump on a trampoline with girls from the Women of KU calendar. Anonymity that comes with wearing the costumes allows the mascots to do things they wouldn’t normally do. Eichten says she once accosted a Mizzou fan who was wearing a “hideous” tiger cowboy hat. She wiped her armpits with the hat and threw it down the stairs.
Plous was doing the circle run before the end of halftime of a women’s basketball game versus Iowa State. He was rounding the half-court circle with Baby when his beak — from which he sees — was suddenly filled with Iowa State uniforms. He decided to get out of the way and speed up, only to see a giant number 23 fill his vision. He remembers hitting the floor and thinking “What the heck did I run into?” Turns out it was then-junior guard, Erica Hallman. The whole place when silent as the two crashed and the announcer said, “Whoa, I hope Big Jay can recover from that one!”
Birds of a Feather
Mascots are not wannabe cheerleaders who couldn’t make it. They are mascots to be mascots. They are a different breed. “Mascots are not normal,” says Jarzemkoski. “They say if you have ADHD you’d be a great mascot. These people have an even higher energy level out of suit than in it.” They also wish fans understood that they can’t always hear or see them. “Sometimes people chase us down, screaming at us and we don’t hear them until they’re right behind us,” Jardon says. They also wish people wouldn’t take their heads off or punch them in the head because it hurts even through the costume. “People get excited and don’t think,” Erker says about his very first football game when a punch left a dent in Big Jay’s head.
Bringing Big Jay and Baby Jay to life is hard work, but all the mascots say it’s worth it. “There’s nothing else like it, I get to be goofy, see places and it blows my mind,” Jardon says. Welch says his private appearances make it worthwhile for him. He recently went to a preschool where the kids looked up to him — metaphorically and literally.
For future generations of mascots, one past Big Jay offers some words of wisdom: “Exaggerate everything and live life to the fullest, because normal actions just don’t cut it,” he says. He graduated last May and says his last time out as Big Jay during pre-game last year on Senior Day was just as exciting as his first. “I was in awe,” he says. “Even more so than being in Madison Square Garden, I realized the importance of who I was. I looked up at the 16,000 fans in Allen Fieldhouse and felt chills run up my back.”
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