Adam Karon Those who think Karon should
stop hanging out with cheerleaders and mascots can e-mail him at
[email protected].
Imagine a world without light, a world where darkness covers
your face like a veil of gloom. Imagine a world without air, a
world where each breath is a struggle against the stench of stale
body odor and unwashed boxer shorts. Imagine a world within the
space of a heavy, fire-retardant suit of shaggy hair.
Welcome to the world of Bill Elliott, mascot extraordinaire.
Elliot has been Joe Bruin for the past two years, and mascot
captain in 2000-2001. While there are three other people behind the
mask of Joe or Josephine, Elliot is easily distinguished. He is the
one who looks like he has a colony of fire ants in his jock strap
when the music starts and it’s time to dance.
How often do you notice Joe Bruin? For some, he is as essential
to a football game as the quarterback. He turns 42-0 blowouts into
celebrations by provoking opponents, encouraging the crowd,
cheering and dancing.
Mascotting is serious business. Whether or not you consider
Elliot an athlete (you probably don’t despite all the free
Adidas gear), his job is far from easy. Mascots attend summer
camps, early-morning practices, and routinely drink more water
during games than the players. Try living inside a 125-degree bear
suit during a five-hour heartbreaker in the desert of Tucson,
Ariz.
Not only is the job difficult, it can be downright
dangerous.
Elliot practically puts his life on the line each time he straps
on the15-pound bear head. OK, so maybe his life isn’t
threatened, but there are dangerous aspects of the job.
“It’s really easy to get dehydrated and pass out, so
you have to be in decent shape to do this,” Elliot said.
Elliot must also maintain his physical stature to defend his
junior welterweight mascot championship. He takes pride in
physically dominating other schools’ mascots. So far he has
knocked out the Oregon State Beaver, the Wisconsin Badger and won a
technical decision when the Stanford tree submitted to severe
intoxication (it was punch drunk). It wasn’t until later that
Elliot discovered the tree was a woman.
While you must be in decent physical shape, mental stability is
clearly optional. Elliott is one of the craziest people I know. As
a first-year student he wore a Lebanese cape into the dining halls.
He has been known to frighten freshmen, memorize monotonous
monologues and generally deviate from the norm.
The first time Elliot met my parents, he performed an entire
motivational speech from the movie “Patton” while
standing at the dinner table, napkin tucked neatly in his shirt,
turkey-juice dribbling from his chin.
“Bill is unique,” said James Wildman, fellow spirit
squad member and cheerleader. “I don’t think anyone
who’s met him would disagree.”
But it is Elliot’s individuality that commands respect.
That and his ability to tolerate the odor while trapped inside his
suit.
“While the scent of Joe does remind me of home, you
couldn’t pay me enough to wear that thing,” said
Wildman, who like Elliot hails from Modesto. “That suit is
the most foul smelling article of clothing I’ve ever come
across.”
To Elliot, it is all in a day’s work. He has performed in
front of the chancellor, wealthy alumni and donors, and millions of
people during nationally televised games.
“I get to experience a remarkably different side of
UCLA,” Elliot said. “I hosted an event at the Alumni
Center this December for disabled children. They were stoked to see
me there, and when they hugged me and took pictures I felt as
though I had given them something special.”
Perhaps Elliot’s greatest talent is his ability to
entertain both young and old. He fondly remembers the “nice
old man” who sat near the front row during basketball games
last year. Elliot would squeeze in next to him, take off his
glasses and even try to arm-wrestle the elderly fellow. He had a
great time practicing his crazy antics on John Wooden throughout
the year.
It’s not easy being Bill. Women want him, and men want to
be him. Who among us can honestly say that he has not dreamed of
total anonymity, and the freedom that comes with it? How many girls
fantasize each Saturday afternoon of one, just one hour alone with
Joe Bruin?
Elliot is so popular that some of his freshmen floormates on
Hedrick 3-South wanted the floor shirt to simply read, “Got
Bill?”
But Elliot handles his stardom with grace and style.
“I try to be unique and find experiences that are
different,” Elliot said. “Not many are in my situation,
and I am so fortunate.”
Being a mascot is a covert operation. Call him Bill when he is
in costume and he will attempt to silence you. Call him Joe when
unmasked and he ignores you. This column is written with full
knowledge that both Bill and I could be terminated for leaking the
true identity of Joe Bruin.
This column is also written with full knowledge that Bill
Elliott is the best mascot in the world. He may not have the most
natural talent, but he is the equivalent of Kirby Puckett or Larry
Bird. Teammates praise him and opponents admire him. He is the
hard-nosed, hard-working guy who loves to play the game.
“This job is a remarkable amount of fun,” Elliot
said of his craft. “I wouldn’t trade in this experience
for the world.”
And Bill Elliot, we wouldn’t trade you for Rick Pitino, a
new Wooden Center, and another year with Freddie Mitchell.