Sweating school spirit in orange and black as the Princeton mascot

Some Princeton fans go to sporting events clad in various orange and black plaids, others as uniformed players, cheerleaders or band members. I suit up as the Princeton tiger. Yes, that is usually me in the big fuzzy costume, parading along the sidelines at football and basketball games.

What possesses someone to voluntarily wear the equivalent of a full body snowsuit and helmet, only to emerge hours later looking like a sweat-drowned rat? I still occasionally ask myself that question.

Originally I saw mascoting as an opportunity to continue doing gymnastics. I had envisioned flipping down the field, tail and all. That was before I crawled into the suit. Once inside, I realized that simply walking is a chore and seeing anything proves even more problematic. These hindrances limit my acrobatics to an occasional cartwheel.

After people recover from the shock of learning that I am the tiger, they usually ask, "How did you become the mascot?" I wish that I could allude to a large talent search; however, that's far from the truth. The short story is that three years ago, after much searching, I located the woman in charge. We discussed the position, ironic because the mascot is not allowed to talk, and she decided that I could be third-string tiger — not too shabby for a freshman with no experience.

I arrived at the next football game to shadow one of the official tigers. When she didn't show up, I found myself climbing into the suit, wondering what I was getting myself into. How was I supposed to see? I stumbled onto the field with the words of advice, "Go out there and have fun!"

Little kids make mascoting fun. In addition to my friends and family, they are my biggest fans. Most Princeton students either pretend they don't see me, decide I must be waving to someone else, or stare at me like I'm walking around in a large, striped costume. You're never too old to wave to the tiger.

Some children are also less than enamored with me. Their parents, many of whom are Princeton alumni, truly amaze me. Most people realize that screaming children do not want to be held by a creature with big teeth and claws. However, some parents still attempt to thrust these flailing babies into my arms. It doesn't make much of a Kodak moment.

Other parents assume that a mute tiger will serve as the perfect babysitter for their child. Those abandoned children tend to enjoy testing how hard they need to pull the tiger's tail, before it comes off. News flash-it's attached!

Note to opposing fans: the head is also attached. I have been warned that during attempts to steal the head, Penn fans have sent former mascots to the infirmary. Consequently, during heated games I get public safety bodyguards.

Opposing teams' mascots and groups of teenage boys also view me as a target. For some reason, they equate a short, fuzzy tiger with a punching bag or WWF foe. The Penn Quaker is especially determined to fight me. Aren't Quakers supposed to be peaceful?

Mascoting involves additional hazards, including limited vision and overheating. I tried wearing a cooling collar, but the lack of circulating air inside the suit left me roasting. This year I have a new accessory, an ice vest. It works better than the collar, but still leaves me sweating, even at the coldest games.

This full body covering tends to make the person inside the suit a mystery. To the typical fan it could be anyone. From the inside I have learned that even tigers possess stereotyped qualities, for example, the animal's sex. Most people assume, or after careful investigation decide, that the tiger is male. I don't know where they think we would be without female tigers. One little girl was so distraught upon learning that the tiger is female, at least when I'm in the costume, that she burst out crying. "The tiger's a girl?" she sobbed. Sorry, there's not much I can do about it. I far prefer her reaction, however, to that of fans who decide to frisk the mascot.

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The main mascoting "don'ts" increase the role's anonymity. These are: When visible to fans, do not take off the costume, especially the head, and do not talk. I'm still searching for an authentic growl to record and play.

Mascoting does not end with football and basketball games. I also appear at other mascots' birthdays, charity fundraisers, Trenton sporting events and the P-rade. The tiger is definitely in the nation's service.

So remember, the next time you see the tiger coming, smile, wave, or give me five. I really am waving to you. Emily Henkelman is a psychology major from Swarthmore, Pa. She can be reached at ehenkelm@prince-ton.edu.