Hit by a Pitch

So I’m watching the Nuggets/Jazz game, and I got all distracted because I saw this jacked-up shit dancing around the sidelines. I have to say: WTF?

That shit is terrifying. Why is the bear so fluffy? Why is he wearing a jersey? And a sweatband? Mascots should not wear jerseys. It’s always terrifying. See?

You didn’t know what salukis were, did you. Now, you’re just afraid.

Furries should not be in charge of mascots.

I’m a Marlin. In a shirt. That makes it totally okay to dress up as a fish.

It’s supposed to be a rabbit, I think. With muscles? And gloves.

He looks like Deputy Dog’s reject brother who smokes weed in the basement.

Good thing he’s wearing shoes.

It’s no better if you dress up as a pretend animal:

This guy is called “Dinger,” which sounds like a nickname for something you’d find on your cat’s butt.

This doesn’t make sense.

There are so many things wrong with this I don’t know where to start. Burnie? Why does he have a watermelon for a nose?

What’s worse? Having Jason Kidd read you a story, or being eaten by a wolf wearing a Nets uniform?

Then, there are the terrifying green fuzzy things:

Is it drunk? It looks like an old woman who took her teeth out after pounding a bottle of tequila and doesn’t know what to do now.

Do I even need to comment on this?

Even my White Sox are powerless to resist the scary nondescript fuzzy green creature as mascot syndrome.

No really. What is this? For the love of all that is holy, why is it driving a car?

WHY?!!!

Hey guys, let’s take a terrifying bear with gigantism and put it in a jersey. Okay, done!

This is all I can handle for one night. I’m scared.

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