Unless you sleep on a bag of ice or arrive at social gatherings on the arm of a falconer, there's not much dignity in being a team mascot, especially if you're toiling away in relative obscurity.
When mascots trend on Twitter or go viral on YouTube, it's never because they nailed a triple backflip and brought the crowd to its feet. Mascots make headlines when they punch rival mascots in the face, suffer epic falls or get arrested sans furry facade.
Basically, each and every time a man or woman shoehorns himself or herself into 70 pounds of moist foam rubber and aging fabric, they're doing it for a reason that transcends money, fame and respect. And you have to respect that.
This is an homage to all those mascots who prance around arenas, stadiums and rinks—in relative obscurity—looking like a vague, psychotic facsimile of the thing they are actually supposed to be.