Sport Pondherrings: Part 2.
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I don’t know about you, but I love football mascots, me. In-fact, I’m a fan of the icons from a whole range of sports. It’s just a shame that naked female gymnastics isn’t main stream enough to merit one; though my fingers will remain forever crossed in anticipation of that wondrous day.
By their very existence mascots remind us of what was once wholesome about sport. They hark back to a time of fair play, hard work, dedication and fun; a time when athletes received no other rewards than self-betterment and the respect of their peers.
Beneath their multicoloured padding or computer generated slapstick, our sporting mascots cock a snoot at the money men who seek to purchase our national pastimes, reminding us along the way that we are fans, not merely customers.
In-fact, so dedicated are the heroes who don our mascots’ armour, not even the prospect of physical harm can deter them.
It was one such idol, a fellow by the name of Bertie Bee, champion of Burnley football club, who physically halted the progress of a streaker* during his team’s match against Preston North End.
In a breathtakingly pendulous advertisement for the continued prosperity of Calvin Klein, the naked transgressor leapt from the stands and sprinted across the pitch in all his knee-slapping glory.
One policeman evaded.
Then two.
Then three!
But here comes the 250 pound cartoon insect.
SLAM!
The Klein-less match-molester was launched into the air by the apparent brick wall that is Burnley football club’s mascot, spinning a full 360 degrees before smashing into the muddied grass below.
There was an instant buzz around the stadium and the crowd roared louder than at any point in the game (no surprise if you’ve ever watched either of these teams play).
Bertie, of course, milked the adulation as behind him, the police -stung into belated efficiency - at last managed to secure the mascot’s hapless victim and haul him away for a good, face-saving kicking in the back of their van.
*As defined by dictionary, a ‘streaker’ is someone who runs naked through a public place.
So, Bertie’s victim at least adhered to basic principle. What I don’t understand, though, is why they do it in the first place; the men I mean?
I wholly comprehend why the ladies might perform such a brazen act, as do most blokes, I would imagine. Obviously it’s to announce themselves to the press in hopes that the paragon of virtue that is the Sunday Sport might display their likeness between its reverent pages.
As to why men would want to flop around in public; who knows? Perhaps they are employed by supermarkets to advertise chickens?
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