Bar Clark

Any of you guys feel a breeze, or is that just me?

The big news in baseball today, of course, is the announcement of the Cubs' new mascot. The plucky little bear is named "Clark", and he'll be the first mascot in Cubs history.

Presumably, this is part of the Cubs' rebranding effort, the one that includes ditching Old Style at Wrigley, upgrading the ballpark, and looking for trade partners for Jeff Samardzija. I don't necessarily agree with any or all of these moves, but let's face it, whatever the cubs have been trying since 1908 hasn't been working, so they might as well go in another direction. It's just unfortunate that one of the symbols of that new direction looks like it escaped from the reformatory behind the nearest Chuck E. Cheese, and will no doubt get compared to PedoBear by internet smartasses everywhere. (Note to Deadspin editors: encouraging your readers to post dick pics of something intended for children may be why some of the more reasonable BBWAA members thought handing you a Hall of Fame vote might have been a bad idea.)

The nice thing about a character like Clark, of course, is that there's no tradition behind him. So if he's a flop - or if his mama bear comes looking for him, as mama bears are wont to do - he can quickly and quietly be shuffled offstage. And in a few years, another attempt will be made.

One that, hopefully, will be wearing pants.

Bush League

So last night, at the Durham Bulls' home opener, something really unpleasant happened - and no, I'm not talking about Tim Beckham's two-strike approach.

The Bulls have a mascot, the punishingly named Wool E. Bull, and he does the mascot thing you'd expect. He goes through the stands, he poses for pictures with kids, and in between innings he runs around on the field doing various things to keep the kiddies entertained. Whoever he is, he's good at it, and God bless him for it - I would NOT want to be the guy in a furry suit trying to do pratfalls in public in a North Carolina summer.

One of the regular Wool E. Bull routines involves racing a little kid from the stands around the bases. The kid always wins, of course, but it's fun and it's no doubt a thrill for the kid, and all that good stuff. Last night, as Wool E. came around third, one of the Gwinnett Braves players came out of the dugout and clotheslined him.

It's obvious the guy in the mascot outfit never saw it. I mean, going even half-tilt inside a giant bull head mask, your peripheral vision's going to be crap. And when this kid stuck his arm out, bam, Wool E. ran right into it and went down, hard.

It didn't look staged. It didn't look funny. The guy in the mascot suit fell down twice on his way off the field. To his credit, he was still playing to the crowd, but still. And the schmuck who hit him? Laughing as he went back to the dugout. From where I was sitting, it looked like a much harder hit than the one Randall Simon put on one of the racing sausages in Milwaukee back in the day.

Look, I can understand the near-insane desire to screw with people in funny costumes. I have vague memories of being the sort of 20-something kid who would find that particular audition for Death to Smoochy to be absolutely hysterical.

But come on. How much of a douchebag do you have to be to try to hurt someone whose job it is to entertain kids? Here's hoping the idiot who did it gets suspended a game or two. Failing that, here's hoping he runs into an angry bull in a dark alley.