Searching for Swoop

We do live in an age of heroes. Brave men and women do walk among us, who, driven by some superhuman enthusiasm, seek to liberate us from our apathy and lead us by vigorous example. They may not have superhuman strength or the ability to shoot concentrated light from their eyes, but these heroes can whip a lethargic mass into a swarthy wave of human emotion at a moment's notice.

And they do it with a gigantic Eagle head on.

Yes, mascots. While the ignorant may consider them a far cry from the spandex-clad chumps smeared across the pages of some tattered Marvel page, we, the Eastern Rangers, see them for the titans they are. When a touchdown means more to us than the purchase of our next breath, the mascot is there to unify our ambition. When the basketball team needs our faith to muster that extra ounce and give Montana the hard goodbye, Swoop is there tapping blood from the stone with a foam finger. When a small child cries, frightened and surrounded by a swirling mass of school spirit, the mascot is the calming security and friendly hug that puts him at ease.

Being somewhat a staple of the university ourselves, we Rangers were only too ready to show our support and participate in a historic annual catechism that regards this affluent member of campus life. Yes folks, the crest of Swoop is destined to be passed on.

Tryouts (on Friday, June 6, in the EWU Dance Studio) are the first step in fabled ceremony to seek out the next Swoop, who will lead us in all things spirit for the following year. Davin Perry, EWU's Electronic Media Coordinator & Director of Big Sky TV, assures us that only those who display an unthinkable reserve of enthusiasm and charisma will be considered to don the suit. Mascot applicants will also be judged on their ability to interact with potential fans of all types, stamina and constitution while inside the suit and the ability to dance like no one is watching. Even when everyone is.

In our quest to understand this illustrious process, Brandon and I went for a walk with Davin Perry and discussed exactly what it is that makes Swoop so incredible. It was then that he offered to let us experience it firsthand. In an unprecedented event, we were allowed to actually step into the shoes of Swoop.

"Are these my muscles?" I asked as I slipped into the ripped undersuit that gives Swoop his signature physique. "Swoop is friggin' cut." Slipping into the $1,500 costume allowed me to realize the athletics involved in mascot heraldry. Engulfed in over three layers of cotton and padding that transformed me from a humdrum student into an avian icon, it is a true wonder that a person can wear such an endeavor for the entire 60 minutes of a college football game. Yet, as I placed the roomy helm of Swoop onto mine, I became intoxicated with the romanticism and mysticism of him. For five minutes, I was the embodiment of Eagle Spirit. For five minutes, I was unstoppable in my pride and passion to whip students into a frenzy. For five minutes I was Swoop. Then I got claustrophobic and clawed desperately to get it all off my body.

Aside from the secret pleasure of being the legendary bird, whomever the honor of Swoop befalls can also expect to receive a handful of cash. Davin was eager to tell us that a special scholarship was an incentive for those who wanted to become Swoop next year, as well as partial scholarships for other selected mascots. But, he warns us, our new Swoop can be no slouch. Hot off the success of his All-American Mascot Nomination Video (www.goeags.com for details), our new Swoop will have some very big talons to fill. "But we're confident," Davin states. "On this campus there is a person who can really take Swoop to the next level."

As Brandon squirmed into the suit to be all the Eag' he could be, I asked Davin whether flirting with the cheerleaders constitutes as audience interaction. After an amusing recollection, he promised that while Swoop is in tight with the cheerleaders, his eyes are forever focused on the game. Besides, flirting would be hard when you can't talk. Swoop is a silent character, mostly to ensure that no one can truly identify the person behind the mask. After a few laps in the suit, Davin has Brandon throw down to some classic salsa music.

The current Swoop innovated the world of mascot dancing, and Swoop comes equipped now with an array of signature moves. Now it was time for Brandon to continue the tradition as he swirled and swayed across the floor with a delicate, yet firm grace. It was like a prizefighter reading poetry in perfect iambic pentameter. Soon Brandon succumbed to the smothering embrace of the Swoop costume and was soaked with sweat from the exertion. The stamina of the man in Swoop is a marvel. As an ironic closure to our brief stint in the suit of the eagle, Davin led us below deck to see the enduring progression of Swoop. We met the stumpy, cartoonish Victor E. Eagle, retired within this Ranger's recent memory. We saw the haggard and derelict visage of Swoop's grandfather, an archaic bird with the aura of a rusty nail. "This Swoop was probably in action in the '40s. There were Nazis then," Brandon said. "I can understand him looking a little more dangerous."

So the next time you bump into a fellow student in the PUB and you act a little less than pleasant (perhaps classes have you bogged down, or it's raining and you just feel a little blue), remember that student could have a secret. He or she might don a familiar costume and provide a much-needed service to our college. He or she might be the hero that makes us proud to be Eagles. He or she might be Swoop with all that that entails. We oughta know, 'cause we get paid for this.