I've always dreamed of donning the iconic Sun Devil suit, filled with sweat and the legacy of all the Sparkys who have come before.
Since I was a little boy, I knew I was destined to be the face of ASU. At age five, I took a photo with Sparky at a football game, and my life's purpose became clear.
I wouldn't have gone to college if it weren't for Sparky. He is my biggest role model.
A lot of people don't realize how demanding being a mascot actually is. The average person isn't up to the task, but I know that I'm the man for the job.
It's a little-known fact that being a mascot is a sport. Sparky is a globally recognized, critically acclaimed NCAA athlete (that's true).
Being Sparky means you're signing up for long days on and off the field. You have to attend hundreds of games and accompany the football team to away matches as well.
The costume — not to be confused with a fursuit — is heavy and gets extremely hot.
It's also quite lonely to be Sparky. You have to do the job in secret, with no recognition or people to confide in.
These are sacrifices I'm prepared to make.
You might be wondering what's so great about Sparky. The benefits include being the center of attention, getting to flirt with freshman girls at InfernoFest and getting free Adidas merch.
As you can see, the job of Sparky is serious business. What could be more important than leading the student section in cheers as we lose to UA?
READ MORE: Turnovers doom ASU football, falling to UA in final regular season game
As soon as Sparky tryouts were announced, I began to prepare physically, mentally and spiritually. Nothing was going to stand in my way.
"Those who are accepted will put on his maroon skin and see through his eyes," reads the official position description. I had never yearned for anything more.
I marked the tryout on my calendar and counted down the days in anticipation.
When the special day finally arrived, I reported to the Sun Devil Fitness Complex. It was swarming with other bright-eyed young men eager to showcase their skills. I waited in line patiently, the buzz of excitement in the air around me.
Finally, I was assigned a number and waited for my turn to audition.
The time ticked by ever so slowly. The men around me began disappearing into the gym.
Some came back in tears. Some never came back at all.
When I was finally called into the gym, a group of other applicants and I lined up against the wall as we were inspected. The panel of judges took confidential notes on clipboards.
We were instructed to do pushups until we couldn't anymore. Per the requirements, Sparky must be "athletically inclined" and "able to do consecutive pushups." Not just one or two, but consecutive.
Luckily, I had prepared for this. I underwent extensive training.
Out of my periphery, I saw the men around me dropping like flies. I heard their groans and cries as each person was cut one by one.
After the pushups, only a few of us remained. They asked to see our special skills next.
Each candidate took turns performing their prepared talent. One man got cut for subpar juggling, another fell off a unicycle and one failed to impress the judges with an Irish jig.
I prepared a tumbling routine. It was a stunning array of flips and tricks that quickly won the judges over.
I had made it to the final round.
My victory was so close I could smell the must radiating off of Sparky's suit. My last test was to try it on.
The costume stood waiting before me, glowing in its devilish grandeur. I almost couldn't believe it: The time had finally come to shed my average skin and become Sparky the Sun Devil.
I slipped into the suit, overcome with emotion. A handler came over to help me zip up the costume.
However, my victory halted as I realized there was a delay in my transformation.
"Is the zipper stuck?" I asked.
"No," said the man, turning to me with a look of doom. I felt a pit in my stomach. Something was wrong.
"You're too short," he said. "You're cut."
I had forgotten one crucial factor: Sparky must be between 5'8" and 6'0".
Alas, I'm only 5'7".
Editor's note: The opinions presented in this satire are the author's and do not imply any endorsement from The State Press or its editors.
Edited by Jack McCarthy, Henry Smardo, Sophia Braccio and Pippa Fung.
Reach the reporter at ajanusee@asu.edu and follow @lexijanusee on X.
Like The State Press on Facebook and follow @statepress on X.
Lexi Janusee is in her first semester with the State Press. She is a freshman studying Journalism and Mass Communications with a minor in Theatre. Lexi also works for Blaze Radio, and is an on-air host for Open Mic.
