The conference table is laid out before them like a scene from “The Apprentice,” except that the Sky’s mascot applicants hardly are trying out for $200,000 jobs and the boardroom really is a back room at the UIC Pavilion.
Just the same, this is an important day on the calendar as the WNBA’s newest franchise continues to forge an identity it hopes will attract fans and ticket-buyers. And from the looks of the three candidates, it’s a serious day for them too. You half-expect the three to walk in as their gorilla, bear and dog alter egos, but they are dressed for and mean business.
The day will be full, beginning with an interview, followed by a tryout in costume and ending with a visit to a West Side Boys and Girls Club, where the candidates can be judged on their interaction with children.
The Sky has flown in Dave Raymond, the original Philly Phanatic who now runs a character training and consulting company, to conduct the tryout. But team President Margaret Stender and several others from the front office also are judging the applicants.
Months of meetings with Teamworks, a media and marketing company helping the Sky with public relations and mascot design, have whittled long lists of attributes and talents the mascot will have. They also have determined what he, she or it cannot be–goofy, babyish, Native American, overweight, menacing–and have developed a mascot marketing plan.
This is not a trivial pursuit.
“I don’t think people realize how much goes into it,” says Julie Meyer, director of public relations for Teamworks. “We went through many revisions. We wanted everything to connect and make sense. It can be as easy or as difficult as you want it to be.
“We could have just picked a bird and said `Done’ and made our lives a lot easier.”
But no one wanted a bird. Nor did anyone want a made-up creature such as the Phanatic, which begat a generation of jolly, lumpy characters like the White Sox’s Ribbie and Roobarb. The Sky wanted its mascot to be physically fit.
“One we wanted all along was this masculine guy, this character who was a little edgy and different, a little risky,” Meyer says.
Why is this such a big deal?
“This is an extension of our brand,” she says. “We want the players to be the focus, and we want the mascot not to detract from but to add to that excitement.”
There is talk about the feasibility of weaving in a publicity stunt, perhaps taking an old mascot from another team and announcing it as if it’s a major trade. How about fan voting? Lengthy debates are dedicated to the impact of its gender, to the market it is aimed at, to whether it should have human characteristics.
“If it’s not human, then it doesn’t have to be physically fit,” says Lynne Hairston, who has since resigned as the Sky’s director of marketing.
If it’s a bird, doesn’t it have to be one you can find in Chicago? How about a dove?
“How about a combination eagle and dove?” Hairston says.
Or maybe, because it’s a young franchise, a baby bird that is hatched, and one portion of the arena could be its nest. Or the hatching of the bird from its egg could be part of a tease campaign.
“But we don’t want to be perceived as an immature team,” Hairston says.
The name game
Teamworks ultimately provides four finalists:
– Sky Lion, brother of the world-famous Art Institute lions and the king of Chicago’s mascots.
– Skylar, a female birdlike character.
– Stratus, a silly, mushy, lovable creature in the style of the Phanatic.
– Sky Guy, a cute, charming go-getter in the image of Buzz Lightyear from “Toy Story.”
Stender compliments the group on the “breadth of the exercise.” Sky Guy is the unanimous favorite, and the character’s back story is created. Yes, he has a back story, which goes up on the team’s Web site.
Sky Guy is from Chicago, grew up with all sisters, loves basketball. He also is an inventor, and with the help of a jetpack, he has traveled all over the world to watch women’s basketball. Now that his hometown has a team, he is back. He is one of the guys but is friendly, charming, polite, a little flirty, good-looking, inspirational. One day he might even have a sidekick.
Earthbound until the team can get around the squirmy issues of insurance and city permits (the Pavilion has strict regulations against zip lines), Sky Guy is nonetheless athletic and will perform the requisite dunk off a trampoline.
More than a character
Now all that’s needed is someone to fill the suit.
The first candidate, Eric, played football at Arizona State before an injury ended his career. He’s now the Gorilla’s assistant for the Phoenix Suns.
“I’ve always admired the Gorilla,” Eric says, referring to one of the NBA’s most enduring mascots. “He’s an icon, a legend. Out of school I got into your typical 8-to-6 job, and I was bored with the regimented routine of corporate America. I needed something else to complete me and keep my competitive edge. I thought, `How cool is that job?'”
Eric is good-looking–not that it will matter much–and personable, but clearly the Sky is searching for other qualities. For example, 50 to 60 percent of his time will be spent in costume, he and the others are told. The other 40 percent will be spent marketing the character.
Eric is asked what he would do if, in his first week on the job, he is told to come up with four or five of his best revenue-generating ideas based on the Sky’s new character.
“I’d pick up the phone and ask Kip and Bob,” says Eric, ticking off the names of the men who act as the Gorilla and run the inflatable mascot for the Suns. “I have the best references in the world.”
Not the answers the people in the room are looking for.
“The mascot is one of the most critical branding elements of the whole Sky experience, especially in our launch year,” Stender explains.
Eric talks about wanting to become the best mascot in all of sports and about the edgy creativity of the Gorilla. Still not the answers they are seeking. He promises to work hand in hand with the community, talks about how he orchestrated promotional timeouts for the Suns and how his experience in sales will help him sell the team. Better, but still not good enough.
`This is my passion’
Patrick is next. He is wearing a suit and tie.
“I found someone who knew something about suits,” he later explains after telling the committee how he had bombed out of his last mascot interview. He also walks in with a resume and letters of reference in a folder for everyone at the table, which endears him to the committee.
Having earned an undergraduate degree in criminal justice, Patrick reveals that he is in graduate school, studying for his master’s in business administration “with a focus on marketing,” an endeavor he understands will have to be put on hold if he is hired.
Patrick is the least outwardly polished of the three, an Eagle Scout who became “Sammy the Bearkat” at Sam Houston University in Huntsville, Texas, basically because the other guy who tried out “was too big for the suit.”
He is the goofball mascot, the one who tries to do a back flip and evokes laughs by falling on his butt. Just the same, he created his own skits, found a sponsor and entered a national competition in Las Vegas. Patrick quickly emerges as the leading candidate.
“I’ve been at school seven years, and I’m not there for the education most of the time,” he says, downplaying his National Honor Society credentials. “I’m there to be the mascot. This is my passion. I feel the next step is the professional level.”
Patrick rattles off a list of rudimentary but worthwhile ideas for marketing the character and the team.
Charlton, the final applicant and the mascot from Fresno State University, doesn’t have a chance. All on the committee agree that as long as Patrick can zip up his costume, he’s in.
The consensus: Anyone can be taught to dunk off a trampoline, but the Sky needs someone with business acumen.
Strenuous workout
With the three wearing their own costumes, Raymond puts them through their paces on the court, directing them to “Give me three different walks” and “Imitate a little boy. A little girl. An old man. A little old lady. A tough, macho guy. A beautiful, sexy woman. A wild, caged animal.” He asks them to demonstrate a variety of emotions from cocky to in love, to dance to five types of music, then to pick up props like an umbrella, an empty tube and a giant toothbrush and do whatever they want with them.
In his gorilla suit, Eric has serious trouble with the little girl and the sexy woman.
Finally, Raymond asks them to say hello to each of the spectators assembled courtside. Eric picks up and drops Stender’s BlackBerry. Not good. Patrick does a back flip off the table and falls on his head. Clearly this hurts, but he’s a gamer. He dances to “Cotton-Eyed Joe” with Sky coach Dave Cowens, who had been sitting on the bench with his usual bemused expression. Fortunately for Patrick, Cowens is a good sport.
Afterward, the three mascots sit under the stands, eating sub sandwiches and rehydrating, various parts of their suits sitting in smelly, molting heaps. They agree that the 20-minute tryout has been one of the most strenuous experiences they have gone through.
“I’m not going to lie,” Patrick says, beating himself up over his lack of rhythm. “Dancing is not my strong point. I’m going to get other people involved.”
Says Eric: “When all else fails, jump on something. I don’t want to irritate fans, but if the rest of the section laughs, then I’ve done my job.”
This job clearly would be a step up for all of them.
“But anyone in professional mascoting knows the NBA is where it’s at,” Charlton says.
He’s proud of himself for not using the giant empty tube prop as a gun, a mascot no-no.
A little later, all the mascots do well with the children at the Boys and Girls Club, who greet them as a combination of long-lost friends and giant tackling dummies. Patrick cruises to the finish line and gets the offer days later.
Coming to a venue near you
The mascot launch originally is set for mid-April, but the date is continually pushed back because of delays in getting Sky Guy’s suit completed. It seems it’s impossible to match the team’s sky blue, so the suit will have to be custom-dyed. Slight panic ensues, but Sky Guy’s launch is reset for May 5 at Lincoln Park Zoo and ultimately is pulled off.
In early discussions, the idea of having the mascot show up unexpectedly at various venues is thrown out. How about the “L” or climbing the John Hancock Center? Apparently, no one remembered “Spiderman” Dan Goodwin.
In the end, Sky Guy will have scheduled, announced appearances at city events, on Michigan Avenue, at the Museum of Science and Industry, Millennium Park, Daley Plaza and Brookfield Zoo, among other places. He will ride the CTA but won’t be hanging off any buildings.
“I love the superhero idea,” Stender says. “There’s magic in that, and it’s so uplifting. It’s what I envision us to be. Our athletes are superheroes.”
– – –
THE SERIES
Since the birth of the Sky 15 months ago, the Tribune has been granted nearly complete access to the behind-the-scenes workings of the franchise.
CHAPTER 1
SUNDAY: The perfect storm that led to Chicago’s new WNBA team.
CHAPTER 2
MONDAY: Decisions, big and small.
CHAPTER 3
TODAY: Serious funny business: How to hire a mascot.
CHAPTER 4
WEDNESDAY: The players play–and sell–the game.
CHAPTER 5
THURSDAY: In search of fans: Will hard work pay off?
Catch up on the series and see more photos at bancodeprofissionais.com/sky
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misaacson@tribune.com
