After a lengthy hiatus, MYFO is pleased to finally present the third installment of our “NHL Mascots: Exposed” series, where we take a closer look at those perky purveyors of performance art and attempt to ascertain what makes them tick. But be forewarned: the life of a mascot is not always a pretty one. The road to the top, as these fine examples of arena entertainment surely have trekked, is fraught with detours, some more shameful than others. Enjoy.
Fin the Whale (Orcinus gigolosis) – Vancouver Canucks: It would be a shame to not mention first-off Fin’s most recent claim for notoriety, when he was photographed catching herpes (and amazingly , crabs and scabies) from making out with Pamela Anderson. Shameful? Yes. Disgusting? Goddamn right. The thing is, if you knew a little of Fin’s backstory, how he would find himself in such a position is much easier to understand.
after watching American Gigolo as a calf, all Fin wanted to do with his life was satisfy the carnal desires of other species. He moved out, got himself a studio apartment and went to work. He started off with the usual stuff, a car trick here and there, helping out a lonely older woman, etc. But things quickly got out of hand. Before Fin knew it, he was hooked on speed and became a Lick Hitter, peeling tricks off every John in the War Zone.
Fin ultimately sobered up, but he felt empty inside. He was still in the Game, but he wasn’t enjoying it anymore. He was looking for a rush, something. Finally, after hooking up with some dolphin whores, he found it: blowhole play. The best part was it paid well.
- it went on like this for years, until a kindly sperm whale took Fin under his pectoral fin and showed Fin the way out.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
Gnash (Smilodon inbredus) – Nashville Predators: Gnash, one of the most popular and entertaining NHL mascots, burst on to the scene with awe-inspiring stunts. He earned his risk-taking chops living on a farm in eastern Tennessee, with his mom, dad/uncle and 18 brothers and sisters. Desperate to separate himself, he began performing death defying feats at an early age, much to the chagrin of his family, who wanted him alive as a dead kid don’t bring in any extra welfare checks. Feeling constrained by his low-bred upbringing, Gnash set off on his own for the bright lights of Nashville, hoping to make it as the first Country and Western Singing Stuntman.
Unfortunately, his dreams of stardom faded quickly. The world wasn’t ready for a saber-toothed tiger singing Merle Haggard covers while rappelling down the exterior of the Grande Olde Opry. In fact, it led to more than one arrest. But, as the great ones usually do, Gnash persevered. Some other interesting tidbits:
- despite belonging to a carnivorous species, Gnash is a vegetarian. He subsists almost entirely on Frosted Flakes and Cheetos
- he drives a Jaguar
- the one person he would like to meet more than anyone in the world is Matt Millen
- he briefly dated WNBA player Noelle Quinn from the Minnesota Lynx
Slapshot (Haliaeetus aviophobias) – Washington Capitals: Hailing from our nation’s capital (no offense intended, Canuckistani readers), Slapshot is the most red-blooded, patriotic S.O.B. you would ever want to meet. This Bald Eagle loves America and America reciprocates that feeling.
Slapshot had a difficult childhood. He was ostracized by his peers due to his fear of flying, spending most of his time watching Ken Burns documentaries and reading about whatever generation Tom Brokaw was currently exploiting. He found his niche in the performing arts, snagging the starring role in his high school’s production of The Birdman of Alcatraz. His career continued on this trajectory until one day when Ted Leonsis, in completing one of the 101 things he wanted to do in life, saw him in a Royal National Theatre production of As You Like It.
Some other morsels of information:
made mix tapes consisting entirely of Fly Like An Eagle by the Steve Miller Band
once shared a cab with British ski jumping Olympian, Eddie Edwards
uses Rogaine to hide his male pattern baldness
and, of course, he hates the fucking Eagles, man (but who doesn’t?)
That about wraps up this edition of NHL Mascots: Exposed. Be sure to stay tuned as more installments will be sure to follow.
Until then, be careful around these mascots. You don’t know where they have been.