May 24, 2016 – Prompt – Neurotic Sports Mascot

Billy wanted to be a quarterback in high school.  He’d dreamed and obsessed about it since he could talk.  How the idea came to him, he couldn’t have said.  It was just there.

Unfortunately, his sisters reached 5’ 10” but Billy never got past the 5’5” mark.  He pestered each coach every season that passed but the lawyers for the school stated it would be too dangerous and the school would be liable for a suit if someone squashed Billy’s little body.

The very last spring of his senior year Billy finally gave up.  But he wasn’t going to sit on the bench any longer.  He and his mother made up a suit for him.  A huge rabbit suit with very long floppy ears and a bug bushy tail.  He looked ridiculous, which pleased him.  He showed up in the middle of Half Time in the last game of the season.  He danced across the field, doing cartwheels and silly dance movements.  A deathly silence fell over the entire stadium.

Then suddenly the laughter began and rolled out onto the field.  People stomped the bleachers and clapped.  The school team was named The Wild Wolves.  Billy figured if he couldn’t go big—he’d go small.

Pinkie Paranya

*****

I get into my damned dragon outfit for the sixth time this week. Yes, I’m the mascot for the Yankee Dragons baseball team.

As I drive to the ballpark in my Chevy some guy cuts me off and as I pass, I give him a one-finger wave.

You can’t imagine my horror when I realize it is the person dressed as a chicken—the mascot for the other team we’re playing. As soon  as we both get to the stadium the chicken gets our of the car and attacks me, right there in front of all the people waiting to enter the stadium.

A chicken and a dragon fighting draws the attention of the local and national press. Soon we are surrounded by cameras and video tapes. I finally manage to get the better of the chicken and the baseball game begins.

Later that evening I sit in the living room watching the ten o’clock news. When the dragon/chicken fight is shown, my wife and I laugh our heads off.

“Only bad thing about this,” says my wife, “I have to get the damn chicken outfit cleaned again.”

Ellynore Seybold-Smith

 

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