October 31, 2004
#264 :: Phillie Phanatic
My late, good friend, Steve Marquez called the Phanatic "the only mascot that makes any sense." You have your Baltimore Oriole, your Detroit Tiger, your Seattle, um, Mariner. The Phillies Phanatic is not a cute or noble animal with "valuable" sports traits such as ferocity, speed or, um, moosiness. He's raw, galumphing id, a furry, hyperkinetic, oversexed thing whose only mission on field is tearass around, goose the players during warmup, pump his arms and lock his fuzzy snoot with as many women in the infield bleachers as possible. The big, stupid ball of rabble-rousing energy has been around since the Carter administration and the great Mike Schmidt. He lives on cheesesteaks, soft pretzels, hoagies, scrapple and Tastykakes, and he's indelible and undeniable, even when he's only two and a half inches high and made of rubber.
