Go back to the bookstore, sell all of your “books” back, and start stockpiling those soon-to-be vintage tees and sweats – our lean, goofily smiling camel mascot is being decommissioned.
We can rest easy at the thought that we no longer have to be represented by such a puny, weakling excuse for a camel, and we can celebrate the arrival of a camel with the same genetic makeup as Vin Diesel. But is the juicing of our mascot an entirely good thing? It certainly makes us question the purpose of the mascot, which up until this recent project has been less a symbol of raw, competitive athleticism and more a unifying symbol of our college community, or whatever.
Rickenbaugh Graphics came into the project, much like most incoming freshmen, having “never done a camel before” and found initial difficulty, according to Rickenbooty himself, leader of the focus group, in figuring out “how their bodies work.” After fooling around a bit, the designers settled on a couple of strong jawed, strong snouted camel warriors with all the trimmings of a sportive desert dwelling beast, minus limbs. There was a great deal of brawn and very little brain.
The first design sprouted a Pac-Man/pterodactyl hybrid tumor from its hump, and the second sat complacently immersed in a whirlpool of blue fire. Alternative add-ons were a “My Little Pony” mane and a boringly two-dimensional blanket draped over the hump. The group dismissed these designs. The Equestrian team left the room.
Much of the decision making process considered big, important sounding words like “Strength”, “Dignity”, and “Tradition”. “Strength” was chosen to represent the fortitude – physical and mental, I suppose – of our athletic teams, “Dignity” because we Camels will be looking forward to a perilous but successful future, as opposed to the past and “Tradition”, which will be evoked by the mascot’s ability to “fit in” to the NCAA tradition of growling humanoid animal busts. Other big words used: Classic, Collegiate, Proud and Revenge. OK, I inserted that last one.
The only problem is that real camels generally appear more embittered than purposefully upset, and, as we all know, have been used almost exclusively as cigarette salesmammals in America for the past hundred years.
Our current camel, which resembles its smooth character cousin Joe with its full-body profile is, quite frankly, stoneresque. It lacks the style of a discolored senile cow (Williams College), and the chutzpah of a half snarky/half diseased-looking bear (Cornell).
Our camel logo looks like a skinny besmurfed version of the Dude from The Big Lebowski.
This is not to say that mascots must look dignified and professional at all times; look to UConn’s Husky, who is either thirsty, or sweaty, or both.
What we lack now is that look of Thirst, of Hunger, of unfettered Desire. We need Sprite, Snickers, and Trojans.
We want a mascot who is more than willing to consume the opposition. Campbell University’s Fighting Camel (aka Gaylord the Camel, the only other collegiate camel in the nation) will take it to the limit, but will he eat the limit?
Conn’s new mascot needs to pop out of our shirts and onto the heads of our enemies, mangling their inferior athletic bodies and then recycling their bones, because our mascot will of course be eco-friendly.
