"Bernie" doesn't have Dog Pound tickets, and if we're being complete honest, he's not the world's biggest basketball fan. But, unbeknownst to her friends, Bernie rarely misses a game.
Mascots who take their craft seriously abide by two universal and unbreakable rules:
1) You never make a sound.
2) You never remove your head around fans.
A violation of either tenet shatters the illusion. Bernie isn't a student in a costume; Bernie is Bernie. The truth is that several students don the costume each semester, and on a rotating basis, perform at games and College functions. Often they're interns in athletics, or in some way, their arm has been twisted. But this is the story of one student who sought out the gig with more purpose and passion than perhaps any other Bernie in the College's history. Of course, to protect the illusion, we must conceal his identity. Or is it her identity? We'll just call Bernie... "Bernie."
"When I was in high school, one of the goals I set as a freshman was to be the school's mascot before I graduated. I thought it would be fun, and I wanted to step outside my comfort zone."
Bernie eventually landed the role and happily lost herself inside that winged-costume (clue #1). Bernie didn't get paid for the mascot-work at high school, but he did need a job, and she had found something she liked to do. So, Bernie scored work dressing up in costume for kids' parties, and parlayed those small-time gigs into a bigger opportunity with Play Connection downstate (that's clue #2). The company hosts all sorts of parties, and boasts an overwhelming collection of costumes. Before Bernie ever transformed into Bernie, he worked rooms as Bluey, Mario, Yoshi, Elmo, and even a Minion.
"Having a little kid run up to you and ask for a picture, you feel like a celebrity. Everybody around you loves you, but they don't know you. They love the idea of you."
Bernie loved the idea of Siena, and after several campus visits, it was an easy choice. Plus, when she learned one of the leading Bernies was graduating, that meant an opening for mascot reps.
"I knew I wanted a job on campus, but I didn't realize I'd get paid to be Bernie. They don't pay you in high school. It's been amazing. Everybody loves Bernie, and not just kids, but the older crowd at basketball games too."
Bernie can sum up the experience as being a mascot in one word, "hot." But for a more nuanced response:
"You have to find joy in everything you do. You're supposed to make the fans happy, no matter what's happening in the game. You move your body in a way that projects fun and excitement and happiness. You're acting like a person who is not a person. It's weird, but it's awesome."
The only stressful part is the lying (or misdirection). Most of Bernie's closest friends don't know about his alter ego. So when they invite him to games, she has to be prepared with excuses.
"I tell them I have homework, or I don't have a ticket. Several of them are big basketball fans, but I've got to downplay my enthusiasm."
Bernie's friends have got some time to figure it out (clue #3). She hopes to be Bernie for years to come. But don't work too hard to unmask the mascot. Part of the fun is just enjoying the anthropomorphic St. Bernard for his unbridled, inexhaustible school spirit. And from Bernie's perspective:
"I get paid to go to basketball games and party with strangers."