This First Person piece is by Richard Raycraft, an amateur mascot and an associate producer at CBC Ottawa. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
It was 2008, the year of the Great Recession, and at 16 I was looking for my first job in a time of economic chaos. Tim Hortons wasn’t hiring — I know because I asked them. So instead of handing out more resumes to managers, I did what I usually do: I complained to my dad.
He wasn’t what you’d call sympathetic, but that wasn’t the worst part.
“You know who’s an inspiring guy?” My father asked.
“No, I don’t” I replied cynically, expecting him to say Isaac Brock or one of his other military heroes who went down in a blaze of glory.
“The San Diego Chicken. He was the first mascot. He put on a chicken suit, did some dances at baseball games, and completely changed sports forever,” he said in preface to a monologue on how cool mascots are, which lasted the whole drive home from my kickboxing class.
Turns out, my father wanted me to become a mascot. The job he pressed me to do involved putting on a silly costume and — I thought at the time — humiliating myself by awkwardly dancing in front of other people.
I thought it was the dumbest thing I’d ever heard. His idea held that distinction in my head for over a decade.
A visit to the neighbourhood mascot shop
In 2020, I moved to Toronto and, as fate would have it, my new home was right next to a store that sells custom mascot suits. Walking past Hogtown Mascots in Toronto every week brought me back to that moment in 2008. It got me thinking, what if I had taken the mascot path?
I took Hogtown’s presence as a sign that I was meant to be a mascot in some form at some point in my life. I wanted to do it for my dad. It’s a weird way to honour a parent, yes, but he’s getting older and so am I.
I was meant to be a mascot in some form at some point in my life.– Richard Raycraft
I decided to make Hogtown Mascots co-owner John Kernaghan my mascot Obi Wan Kenobi on this adventure.
John and his team spend their day designing and building mascots for clients around the world, and it’s clear based on how busy they are that mascots are a bigger business than I thought.
So, hoping for some insight into my father’s mind, I asked John why do businesses want a mascot? And why would someone like my dad be so fixated on them?
He told me that coaches and players can change but mascots are forever. They offer an eternal representation of a sports team or business. There’s sort of a mystique to mascots, too. Everyone knows there’s a performer underneath that suit, but no part of them is visible. To be a mascot is to be like a superhero — performers put on a suit and then do things they would never do if they weren’t wearing it — all for the sake of entertainment.
Becoming the hog
After hearing this, I really wanted to try on a suit. John was delighted to let me try one on. In fact, he had a new hog suit that no one had ever worn before. For a few minutes, I became the hog of Hogtown, the mascot of the mascot shop.
I discovered that wearing a mascot suit is a little awkward, but it’s not uncomfortable. There’s less visibility with the big head on than I expected. But the most important thing is when you put a giant anthropomorphic pig suit on, you’re only useful for one thing: moving around.
My dad loves to tell the story about how he met Youppi!, the former longtime mascot of the Montreal Expos. He found out that Youppi! was portrayed by a Montreal police officer. My dad was tickled by the idea of a Montreal cop who busts biker gangs by day, but then puts on a weird costume and busts a move in front of spectators at a baseball game by night.
My dad’s mascot dream, fulfilled
So when I told him that I had decided to become a mascot, I was convinced he would be thrilled that his dream has finally been fulfilled.
But his reaction was muted. Turns out, he never wanted me to do this for him. He wanted me to do it because he had a sense that, deep down, it’s something I would like. Thirteen years later, I’ll acknowledge that he’s right. Teenage Richard was just repressing a desire to dance and not be laughed at.
I decided to rent a bear suit from Hogtown, and put on a performance on the driveway of my parents’ house in Mississauga, Ont.
My moonwalk was terrible but my splits were great, and luckily the bear suit didn’t rip in the groin area.– Richard Raycraft
It didn’t draw a huge crowd, but I got some reactions from people who were drawn by the spectacle. My moonwalk was terrible but my splits were great, and luckily the bear suit didn’t rip in the groin area.
WATCH | Richard Raycraft performs in a giant bear costume on his dad’s driveway
But more important than any feedback was the realization that I wanted to keep dancing and performing. I didn’t expect that. I ended up doing four performances and although my body didn’t thank me over the next week, it was maybe the most fun I’ve ever had.
And now I’m on the hunt for a part-time mascot gig. I decided to apply for a mascot job with a minor league basketball team. I even got an interview and had an in-person tryout at a basketball game. Now, I’m nervously waiting for them to tell me whether I got the job.
I’ve learned to embrace this unconventional job and those who laugh at me can be damned. I regret that I didn’t have this confidence when I was 16, but it’s never too late to pursue a dream. Even if that dream is to put on a giant costume and dance around.
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