But in the stands, a Phillies fan brings up the taboo topic. Before the match, Burgoyne said no one can talk about it. Met made national news by flipping off some abusive fans. He’s bombarded with photo requests with every step.ĭays before the interview, another team’s mascot, Mr. She laughs, and the hometown fans cheer, and, soon enough, it’s time for the Phanatic to make his way back to his dressing room. He waddles over and hides her hat and entire head underneath his Phillies jersey. Soon enough, popcorn’s flying everywhere and all over everyone.
Popcorn boxes in wing, the Phanatic makes his way to the stands and into the crowd watching the game, who are oblivious they’re about to become supporting characters in the most entertaining show playing at the stadium tonight. The Phanatic just cut a half dozen people in line, but they’re reacting how one might upon running into an old friend unexpectedly. The Phanatic orders three - no, make that four! - boxes of popcorn while fans of all ages swarm nearby. “The Phanatic might get confused where his seat is, so you never know what’ll happen with all that popcorn. “We’re heading out into the stands, we’re going to mess with some fans, get a little popcorn,” she says. “That sounds like a plan.”Ī few minutes later, the Phanatic is barging through the hallways and onto the concourse, toward a favored concession stand near the first base stands.
“Maybe we’ll do the popcorn tonight? K? Is that a plan?” Burgoyne says, the way you might suggest getting pizza for dinner. Burgoyne and Powers talk it out briefly before the top of the third inning. And there are shticks the Phanatic returns to, time and again.ĭuring an early June game against the San Francisco Giants, it’s the popcorn gag. Burgoyne also talks to the Phanatic about what opposing players are better at taking a joke than others. Some performances, especially those involving the Phanatic’s mom, Phoebe, or his lady friend, Phyllis, are discussed in advance. “That’s just the Phanatic being himself, basically.” “When you see the Phanatic out there, and getting the crowd pumped up, or dancing with umpires, or dancing with fans in the crowd, spilling popcorn on somebody, none of that is rehearsed,” said Burgoyne. Most days, the Phanatic’s performances are unscripted. It’s about as close as one can get to experiencing Beatlemania firsthand.
Joyous screams of “Phanatic!” fill the air. Parents grab their children and - with urgent clarity of purpose - shove them in front of the Phanatic, certain of the fond memories being forged in the formative minds. Teenagers revert blissfully back into excited kids and run over to see him. When the Phanatic emerges from the bowels of the stadium and onto a crowded concourse, fans squeal with delight. Now, he has his own assistant, Christine Powers, who helps manage the throngs of fans who sprint across the concourse in the hopes of getting a high-five and a selfie from the rotund rabble-rouser. After graduating and working a few months in a dreadfully dull sales job, Burgoyne noticed a classified ad in the Daily News, “under M, for ‘Mascot.’” He’s been best buds with the Phanatic ever since. Joe’s Prep before going to Drexel University. The Delaware County native was a class clown (and mascot) at St. I gas up his four-wheeler, make sure he gets gas in there,” said Burgoyne.īurgoyne’s been in this gig for 29 years. “He sleeps a lot, so I’m the guy that usually has to wake him up. Burgoyne gets to the park three to four hours before game time to help the Phanatic get ready. The Phanatic lives at Citizens Bank Park, in his own dressing room located between the visiting and home locker rooms. WHYY thanks our sponsors - become a WHYY sponsor
0 kommentar(er)
