32nd & 7th.

originally posted 02.21.07

this pic is 100% guaranteed to
make urban & miss dtm laugh.

me and that fucking mascot have beef.

let me back track a bit…
madison square garden is described as the worlds most famous arena. you’d think this lofty title might go to the roman coliseum (or at least yankee stadium).

nope, not so much. try 32nd and 7th.

growing up in new york city it was rare that i could ever attend a big game at m.s.g. because tickets are so expensive. sure, you could buy a ticket in the nosebleed section but who wants to watch a game from there? to sit in the court-side v.i.p. spot you needed ill connections or deep pockets. my dad (aka “cliff huxtable”) managed to pull some halfway decent knicks tickets from out of thin air now and then. but usually i spent my few trips to the garden grumbling from the cheap seats.

that was until i started going to college at syracuse university. every year the big east basketball conference (of which the ‘cuse is a proud member) holds their championship tournament at the garden. students of the universities competing in the event were given prime time seating for the games (first three rows, baby). considering that manhattan is a mere two and a half hours from syracuse, it was relatively easy to plan an escape to the city to watch a game.

exhibit “a” for the prosecution.

it was on such an occasion that i had my fateful confrontation with otto the orange. when i attended college, the nickname for syracuse university sports teams was the “orangemen” (this has since been changed to “the orange.” political correctness has gone too far). anyway, our school’s mascot is the giant orange doofus pictured above wearing a silly-ass cap. our nickname is the orangemen. he’s shaped like an orange. he’s a man. get it?

word.

otto the orangeman is widely regarded as the dumbest, gayest (no hardaway), most useless team mascot in the entire solar system. he was so ridiculous that espn used to clown otto regularly during their ads. this is the only one i could find on youtube (sorry for the shitty quality), but there had to be at least 4-5 with a similar theme as this:

so there i was – sitting courtside with my homeboy mario at madison square garden. specifically, behind the basket, third row, aisle seat (this trivia will become important soon). the crowd was bubbling with famous alumni and rabid coeds (read: drunk) cheering our team on. as i recall it was an outstanding game (we played st. johns when they still had ron artest). sadly, the quality of the contest is not what will live on in my memory.

mid way through the second half the intensity of the game ratcheted up. after each dramatic play i would leap from my seat and holler at the court. while the game was in progress otto the retarded orange would lope through the aisles, lurking behind unsuspecting fans and scaring small children. so focused was i on the game at one point that i didn’t notice otto standing right beside me. on the opposite side of the court a syracuse player was violently fouled, and i pounced to my feet in outrage.

by doing this i ended up whacking otto on the side of his…well, on his side. the fruity mascot teetered on one leg. at the exact moment i stretched out my arm to give the mascot a hand he swayed backwards and began tumbling down the stairs…toward the court.

look out below…

now, have a gander at this sorry looking bastard. he’s round. round like a motherfucker. otto tumbled down the short flight of stairs like a furry, orange boulder rolling downhill. he gained enough momentum that by the time he hit the court otto had built enough steam to roll to within a few feet of the free throw line. every syracuse fan to witness the atrocity gasped in horror. who was that hooligan that dared attack our beloved gay mascot?

me. thats who.

otto’s vacantly cheerful gaze seemed oddly inappropriate as he tried and failed to stagger to his feet. surly sports fans rained down boos on my head. my boy mario was in complete hysterics – so much so that he was oblivious to the hostile onlookers that began showering us with popcorn and crumpled game programs. after a few scorecards mollywhopped him across his head, mario decided that we should run for our lives. i was inclined to agree.

we sprinted to the loge level and turned around to watch a dazed mascot finally pull himself from off the floor. the onlookers finally saw the humor in a retarded orange ball rolling to the free throw line, and i started to hear laughter. according to friends, the fallen otto phenomena had been covered on the local news in syracuse. i’ve never seen this clip, but best believe i have sent quite a few letters to the local tv affiliates asking for a copy.

surprisingly, otto is not a real furry orange creature. there’s an actual person in that suit. at that time of this mishap “otto” was being played by a chick named pia who lived in my dorm freshman year. if you think pia didn’t know that it was i who sandbagged her at the garden, you are sorely mistaken. for the next year and a half that girl was on a mission to shove me on my ass in public. she even got close a few times while i staggered home from the bars.

anyway, syracuse ended up winning that game (peace to ryan blackwell’s game winner in OT). i ended up soiling the memory of the best basketball seats i’l ever have, plus i started a rivalry with a lame sports mascot. people watching the game on tv and in the garden had a laugh. and now, finally, i have managed to milk a blog story out of it. go orange.