I grew
up in St. Louis,
but you don’t have to be a Cardinals fan to know about the team mascots, or as
I call them – major annoyances. I am of
the opinion that they are strictly in place to “entertain” (a.k.a. petrify) children. Let’s face it, true sports fans are excited
by the actual actions on the field, ice, or court, whichever sport you
choose. True sports fans don’t need the
antics of an oversized bird, hot dog, stalk of wheat or even the occasional
unidentifiable character to get those competitive juices flowing.
When I
was about 12 years old, I hadn’t really formulated that opinion yet. I didn’t have any opinion of Fredbird, our
local view-blocking, T-shirt catapulting, putting-his-beak-over-your-head nuisance.
It all
started then at the age of 12 or 13. I’m
referring to my “Fredbird Feud”, which he knows nothing about. I was at a Cardinals game with my sister and
her friend. We happened to be in a
section where Fredbird came cruising by, shaking hands, smothering heads with his
squishy beak, and being otherwise a pain in the gluteus maximus, but I was
happy to reach out to shake his yellow gloved hand. He shook my sister’s hand, her friend’s hand,
and then – to my horror – SKIPPED my little tiny outstretched hand to put his
beak over the head of a child on the other side of me, probably traumatizing said
child for the remainder of her life. For
reasons I cannot explain, my ego was SO bruised that to this day, 30+ years
later, I still get pretty ticked off thinking about my hand proudly hanging out
there and being dissed by Fredbird.
The
pain didn’t go away as it should have. A
few years later I was at a game with a friend of mine and we had gotten down to
the field box level before the game to watch the goings on that occur. Well, lo and behold, there is Fredbird
charging around on the field, apparently warming up to annoy the masses when
they show up in about 1/2 hour. Not yet having
reached a maturity level to be proud of, my bruised ego reared it’s ugly head
and I shouted, “I hate you Fredbird!” He
heard me alright because he looked in my direction and started rubbing his eyes
like he was crying – smart ass that he is.
He’s probably used to people shouting that at him now that I think about
it.
This is
when the strange “Fredbird phenomena” started.
I don’t
remember why, but around age 15 or 16, I was at the airport one night and
remember seeing a guy walking through the terminal – and he was carrying
FREDBIRD’S HEAD! Weird…okay, I could let
that go as coincidence. At age 17 I was
working at a restaurant on a Saturday afternoon. It happened to be my turn to wash dishes back
in the kitchen. I’m working away
scrubbing pots and pans, when out of the corner of my eye I catch of glimpse of
something that does not seem to belong in the kitchen….FREDBIRD!!! What the…
My immediate response, unfortunately spurred on by that bruised ego mentioned
earlier, was to yell “Get out of here
Fredbird!” and shot at him with my ever-powerful water hose. He was gone in a flash, causing me to
question whether what I had just seen was real.
Great. Why is Fredbird continuing
to appear in my life at such odd moments?
It just
gets weirder. Fast forward a few more
years. I’m now about 24 years old and living in Iowa.
Yes, you heard me right – IOWA. I’m leaving my job from a small hospital as I
always do, having to walk through the lobby to the exit. Guess who’s walking out the door directly in
front of me? Yes…you are correct – FREDBIRD. I mean, come on now - Iowa.
I was so caught off guard that I could only come up with “Where are you
going Fredbird?” and even though I tried to make it sound angry, it’s simply
not a question that comes across as angry.
What surprised me was the response, “Outside” he growled. So then I condescendingly told Fredbird that
he is not supposed to speak. It was the best
I could do because I was in Iowa. I was starting to wonder if perhaps Fredbird
wasn’t a bit of a stalker.
Other
than a few small “accidental bumpings” at Cardinal games, my contact with
Fredbird laid low for a few years. No chance
encounters to speak of, and the bruised ego might have dwindled away to
nothing, but then came the biggest, ugliest Fredbird altercation of all.
Let me
set this up for you. It was a Sunday and
I was participating in a walk-a-thon for charity. I’m not going to lie to you – I was HUNG OVER.
Homemade margaritas the night before had really done me in and worst of
all I had to be at work at 7:00 that
morning, where I spent most of my time, kissing the porcelain something or
other. You get my drift.
I was
not feeling well but I had committed to this so I left work and went directly
to the event around 11 a.m. I had my
baseball cap on to help keep that pesky sun out of my bloodshot, squinty
eyes. Nevertheless, I was able to get
registered and met up with my friend, Susie, to wait for the start of the
walk. Susie saw someone she knew so she
went to say hello and I sat down at a picnic table to try to pull myself
together. Then it happened… he approached
me. Yes, it was Fredbird. I tried to be nice and explained to him that
he needed to leave me alone, but the big red Avian flu pusher would not walk
away.
“Please
Fredbird,” I pleaded. “I’m not feeling
well and I don’t want to be your friend.”
Well, Fredbird, being the tremendous A-hole he is paid to be, reached
out to grab the bill of my cap and then proceeded to shake my head back and
forth. I warned him that I might possibly
PUKE all over his big shiny yellow feet.
Oh he really enjoyed that and apparently wanted to see if I really would. I could feel a major scrap coming on – my
fists clenched and my blood pressure was cooking. I was just trying to muster up a dehydrated
weak right hook to clock Fredbird in his big bird belly, when all of a sudden Susie
was there! She knew my history with this
ridiculous beast and apparently, while talking with her friend, had glanced
over to see Fredbird gripping my hat and me with my fists ready. I can only
imagine what must have gone through her mind at the sheer sight, and she rushed
over to break up the ruckus. She said,
“Fredbird (actually I think she called him Fred), I’m serious – you need to
leave her alone.” For some reason he
believed her and off he went to harass another victim. Crisis
averted. Susie later told me that her
biggest fear was what the headlines of the paper would read – “Volunteer
attacks Fredbird at charity event” and she didn’t think that would go over
well. I personally think many people
would have been grateful to me for doing exactly what they wish they could.
