A. J. Mass - Yes, Its Hot in Here: Adventures in the Weird, Woolly World of Sports Mascots

ALSO BY AJ MASS

How Fantasy Sports Explains the World

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Copyright 2014 by AJ Mass

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ISBN: 978-1-62336-003-0 hardcover

ISBN: 978-1-62336-004-7 ebook

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Growing up to be a huge sports fan isnt something that happens by accident. Its an obsession that gets passed down from generation to generation, father to son.

This book is dedicated to the memory of my father, Gabe, who always said yes when I asked to stay up to watch just one more inning.

The book is also dedicated to the memory of my father-in-law, Bill Grunstein, because fathers can pass on a love of sports to their daughters, too.

I CAN FEEL THE ELECTRICITY IN THE AIR. Actually, I dont only feel it, but see it and smell it as well, and Im trying my best to stay out of its way. The Shea Stadium Im entering on the evening of April 15, 1997, is not the same one I left the night before. A bevy of carpenters and electricians is busy installing metal detectors at every possible entryway, and the smell of newly installed outletsacrid burning metalcauses me to pull my jacket up over my nose and mouth to avoid choking on the fumes. Sparks dance above the large, boxlike devices, whose unexpected presence produces the illusion that I have taken a wrong turn on my way to the stadium and somehow ended up at LaGuardia Airport instead.

Finally, the craftsmen finish their work and run off, presumably to yet another checkpoint, where another juiceless machine requires their magic touch. On a normal game night, Id simply wave to Officer Murphy, who works the door, and jump on the elevator that takes me to the press level. This is definitely not normal, though. I wait patiently in a steadily growing line for close to twenty minutes before finally getting a chance to flash my Mets identification card and get frisked by the cops. Yes, tonight is no ordinary game at Shea Stadium, as President Bill Clinton is going to be in attendance. Its going to be a long, eventful night.

Only twelve thousand fans managed to make it out to Shea last night to see the Mets lose to the San Francisco Giants 3-2. The allure of a Dave Mlicki versus Osvaldo Fernandez pitching matchup obviously wasnt enough to overcome the home teams awful start to the season. While I didnt actually keep track, I think I managed to shake hands with each and every person in attendance by the time that game was over, possibly even by the sixth inning. Tonights game would be a different story, though. The game is sold out, but not because fans are all aflutter over Armando Reynoso taking on Ismael Valdz and the Los Angeles Dodgers. Certainly the Dodgers always draw well in New York, given their Brooklyn roots, but that alone doesnt account for the extra forty thousand people in the seats.

What makes April 15, 1997, so special is that its the fiftieth anniversary of Jackie Robinsons first major league baseball game. Even someone with only a passing interest in the sport can understand the importance of Robinsons debut with the Brooklyn Dodgers, which marked the end of segregation in major league baseball. Baseballs acting commissioner, Bud Selig, is scheduled to make a presentation to Rachel Robinson, Jackies widow, on the field after the fifth inning of the game. Recognizing Jackies importance to the history of not only the sport, but also the country, President Clinton had requested that he, too, be allowed to say a few words in remembrance of Jackie and his achievements.

But even though the commander in chief is in attendance, and the MetsDodgers game is in many ways playing second fiddle to the pomp and circumstance surrounding his visit, for the New York Mets beloved mascot, Mr. Met, the show must go on! As on any other day, I get dressed in my costume and head out to the field for my usual pregame shenanigans. The only problem is that between me and the green grass of the baseball diamond theres one of those newly installed checkpoints, and Mr. Mets head is not only too big to fit through the metal detector, but also has just enough screws and washers and other tiny metal fragments inside of it to trigger the handheld wand that the operator uses to make sure I am safe to allow passage.

Of course, once the wand starts beeping, the police officers alongside the machine cant resist taking the opportunity to have a little fun. They ask me to assume the position and pretend to treat me as though I have just been caught robbing a bank. They laugh and proceed to vigorously pat me down, then take out their handcuffs and brandish their batons before eventually tiring of the charade, patting me on the rear, and allowing me to go on my way. After taking only a few steps, I hear a young child call my name and turn to wave. It is then that I notice the man in the dark suit looking in my direction. He is clearly not amused by what has just taken place. Quite frankly, the way hes staring at me sends a chill down my spine, so I quickly move onto the field and away from his icy glare.

Prancing and dancing around, signing autographs by the dugoutno easy feat, given the bulky four-fingered mittens that pass for Mr. Mets hands, but its a skill Ive come to master over timeand posing for pictures, I lose myself in my work. This is always my favorite part of the job, interacting with the fans, particularly kids, and getting them to smile. I finish my fifteen minutes on the right-field line and make my way over to the third-base side of the field, where Jimmy Plummer intercepts me.

Jimmy Plummer is the Mets director of promotions, and usually if he approaches me on the field its because a corporate sponsor is standing nearby and wants a photo op, or he wants to let me know that he expects me to visit a particular luxury box as soon as possible. As is typical from a member of management, Jimmy never actually speaks to me as if hes talking to a college-educated co-worker who just happens to be dressed up in a mascot costume, but rather as though hes talking to a mentally challenged grade-schooler.

Now, Mr. Met ... tonight is a special night, okay? Plummer explains in an annoying singsong. And we dont want to do anything to disrespect anyone. Now, Mrs. Robinson will be here soon. Do you know who that is?

This is the start of my fourth season on the job, and Ive just been given a desk in a shared office on the press level of the stadium. If Jimmy had any concerns, he had ample opportunity to stop on by or pick up the phone and leave me a voicemail. In a way, its sort of a compliment. Even people who work alongside me on a daily basis dont see AJ in a costume, but rather the childlike personality of Mr. Met.