Last Tuesday, Grizz the Logger left the women’s basketball game midway through the third quarter despite the shock and dizzying confusion of the crowd. Calls rang out from the bleachers as the normally humble bear-man threw down his hatchet and walked, head down, through the exit, and with broken hearts and broken spirits, the faithful Loggers continued to tearfully watch the game—without their beloved mascot.
No one has seen the furry Logger since his mysterious disappearance.
Attempts to contact the hybrid creature have been met only with disappointment and mystery, as he had appeared to have vanished into the great Pacific Northwest. Many have searched, but the tracks have gone cold—until now. We at The Flail have recently discovered his hideout, deep in the North End Tacoma suburbs where he has found solace in his newly founded man-bear cave.
“I just don’t know if I can do it anymore,” Grizz said. “Am I a bear? Am I a man? I can’t fight these feelings, this confusion… I’m barely holding on.”
True to his word, the mascot appeared distraught in his hideout. His iconic red flannel, symbolic of all the clothing of his fellow Loggers, was now tattered. He was surrounded by berries, raw salmon and Maxim magazines, and his fur remained soaked with the tears of his raging internal battle.
“Nothing feels right,” he said. “Do I fatten up for winter? Hibernate? Or do I strive to maintain the only socially acceptable physique of mankind, slim and fit?”
The Logger raised curious questions indeed. In a world of so many unique and beautiful animals, where does a half-man-half-bear fit in?
“Who are my parents? Was my mother the bear? My father the man? I feel trapped here,” he said. “Are there others like me out there?”
Grizz wept tearfully into the matted fur of his human-like arms, weeping passionately about his lack of right to even bear arms and the public’s rejection of his compound appearance.
“I can’t even get a cup of coffee. I walk into shops for a cortado and [everyone] runs screaming. Animal control once showed up and tranq’ed me on sight. I mean, I go downtown and somebody keep tellin’ me don’t hang around. It’s horrible,” he said.
Moreover, Grizz shared concerns about his role in the fight for green living and climate change prevention.
“They commissioned me, half-bear, to cut down trees—my own natural environment,” he said. “I live in a constant state of guilt and regret. And how am I supposed to represent one of the greenest schools in the country and I cut down trees in front of students for a living?”
While man-bear-Logger may not be the University’s finest idea, administrators are still working hard to restore the mascot to where he belongs: the fields, the courts, the campus.
But for now, the mighty man-bear dwells alone in his cavern of darkness and paradox, waiting for his moment of enlightenment.
