Job doesn’t suit everyone

Bromley Lowe left his size-22 floppy shoes on the pitcher’s mound in September following his last game after 10 seasons as the Oriole Bird.

“I loved the job,” he said. “In some ways it was the greatest job you could have. But I had to give it up because it was just so physically draining.”

It’s not that easy being green. Just ask Tom Burgoyne, who as the Phillie Phanatic plays the big galoot in the shag-green suit. “It’s supposed to look easy,” Burgoyne said. “But it’s not. This is hard work.”

Comedians have a saying that dying is easy – comedy is hard. Mascot work is harder yet. Don’t believe it? Lowe said you should try wearing an outfit of synthetic feathers, foam and fiberglass on a 100-degree day in July.

“Imagine wearing a fur coat in a sauna while doing aerobics,” Lowe said. “That’s what it’s like.”

Once, during a game on a 105-degree day, Lowe saw spots and thought he was going to pass out. He said he has lost as many as 10 pounds in a game, even though he and a partner traded innings so one could always be out of the sun and drinking water.

“Parades are the worst,” Lowe said. “I was in a Fourth of July parade in Laurel, Md., in 1995, and it felt like it would never end. I was treated in an ambulance. They hooked me up to an IV. But eventually you learn to pace yourself. I think the San Diego Chicken put it best: ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the chicken.’ “

Orthopedic surgeon Edward McFarland, who heads the sports medicine program at Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, surveyed mascots in the NFL, NBA and MLB and found 42 percent have suffered heat-related illnesses.

McFarland sent surveys to 71 mascots for pro teams in 2001 and got answers back from 48, or about two-thirds. Of these, 20 reported a heat illness, including 14 who were treated with intravenous fluids and one who was hospitalized.

Almost all of the mascots reported injuries of one kind or another, the most common being ankle sprains, reported by almost one-third; 21 injuries were severe enough to require surgery.

Among the mascot mishaps cited in the report: falling off a wall while performing a somersault; being pushed off a 10-foot wall by a fan; falling off a dugout; flipping over moped handlebars during a skit; being tackled by fans and players; falling awkwardly when performing basketball dunks; being hit in the head with a bat; and being run over by a van during a skit.”

John Krownapple was the Oriole Bird in 1999 on a day when he and Lowe took turns performing. Krownapple was in the right-field bleachers when a drunken fan gave him a two-handed shove onto the field 10 feet below. Krownapple broke both ankles and spent 40 days in a wheelchair.

“People think of you as a cartoon character,” Lowe said. “They tend to forget that the guy inside the suit is flesh and blood.”

Sometimes it takes cartoon characters to remind us of that. On the episode of “The Simpsons” that aired after the Super Bowl, Homer Simpson opens a showboating academy for preening athletes.

“After you prance across the goal line,” Homer advises, “you roll the other team’s mascot to the ground and drive your cleats into his neck.”

“Homer, are you sure we aren’t crossing a line here?” fictional football star Deion Overstreet said. “I happen to know the person inside that leprechaun suit is a single mother.”

Burgoyne agrees his job stinks — but only literally. Otherwise he rejects the premise he has one of the worst jobs in sports.

“I get paid to watch games and make people laugh,” he said. “How great is that?”

But what about the heat and the smell and the danger?

“Sure, it smells, and you get the occasional foul ball to the noggin. I sweat through five T-shirts a night. But that’s no big deal. You put some stick-on air fresheners in the head and Febreze under the armpits at night and you’re good to go.”

Burgoyne remembers the day in 1989 when he scoured the want ads in The Philadelphia Inquirer. He was a year out of business school at Drexel and checked first under S, for sales, and then under M, for management. That’s when he saw it: Mascot Wanted.

He had been the Hawk at Saint Joseph’s Prep in Philadelphia. So he answered the blind ad, which turned out to be for the backup Phanatic.

He performed more than 1,000 times in shopping malls and classrooms before Dave Raymond, the original Phanatic, left after 16 years in 1994. Burgoyne has been the man since.

“You take some physical risks, I guess,” Burgoyne said. “But most of the time you just shake it off and move on.”

The Hawk at Saint Joseph’s University is often cited as the best mascot in college sports. This season is the 50th in which a costumed student has flapped his wings for every moment of every game.

The Hawk flaps continuously for roughly two hours, even through halftime.

“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, by far,” Saint Joe’s senior Mike Tecce said. “The worst is the first half hour to 45 minutes. After that your shoulders go numb and you can just keep going.”

How many flaps does he do every game? “Everyone asks me that,” Tecce said. “I’m an accounting major, but I don’t keep count. It’s hard enough as it is.”

ESPN kept count during a game a few years ago and estimated 3,500 flaps a game.

Try flapping your arms at home with no heavy costume. You’ll be tired by 50, if not 15.

But don’t dare suggest that being a mascot is among the worst job in sports. Tecce figures for him it’s the best.

He gets a scholarship. And he gets to represent the indomitable spirit of his school.