With about 15 minutes until game time, we sat around in the locker room laughing, joking, telling stories and getting ready for the upcoming game. However, this was no ordinary locker room, and we were no ordinary team: We were the UAF Nanook Mascots and we were going to rock the crowd at the Michigan-UAF hockey game.

Not knowing what to expect, how to act or where to go, I headed out of the locker room with my on-the-job trainer, a nine-year-old girl who said before the game she wished she would stop growing so that she could play Katie Bear forever. I also had a backup buddy who walked around with me, helping point out kids who wanted hugs or the stairs that became surprisingly difficult when in costume.

At first I was nervous, not sure what I was supposed to do, or where I was supposed to do it. The only thing I was sure of was that it was hot—really, really freakin' hot. Ted-E-Bear wasn't joking when he had told me, "Being in costume is like being in a sauna and breathing through a straw." I had laughed when he said this, and now I came to realize he hadn't been joking. I had the sensation of being inside a tank, constant sweat streaming from every pore in the body, barely able to see inches in front of my mask, barely able to hear anything from outside the headgear, only my own steady breathing echoing like a metronome.

"After the game you feel way nasty, cause you're completely drenched in sweat," said Stefani Schruf, a sophomore studying communication and a second-year mascot. Because the plan was for me to only be in the costume for one period, I didn't think it would be that bad. Man, was I up for an awakening; my entire body was sopping. If I had not have been wearing shoes, there would have been puddles at my feet.

After less than half the second period, I got bored on one end of the arena and decided to meander around. The eyes of every kid between two and 10 lit up as they tried their best to get a hug or a high-five from "the bear." Most college students and a handful of adults wanted high-fives. It was the teenagers, I was told, who were the ones to watch out for. I kept an alert eye, hoping to catch a couple of wise guys conspiring to get me. I ran into a handful of high school kids who seemed more interested in giving me high-fives—rather than pounding me in the groin—which I'd heard they like to do.

Getting up and down the stairs proved quite tricky, and after a near miss, I decided to stay down on the ends until the period was over. That happened much sooner than I had anticipated, and although I was burning up inside the suit, the time flew by. Getting out on the ice between periods was like a dream come true; I felt like I was one of the team.

Each bear had his or her own specialty. Mascots skated with the players during warm ups, walked around the crowd hugging the kids, or sprayed the rowdy college students with water.

Before the game, I had a chance to meet the people beneath the costumes. From UAF students, to a fourth grader, to a middle-aged man who's been mascoting since the beginning, it was not a certain demographic that made a mascot, there was something else internal that linked these four strangers. I think there's an exhibitionist, a crowd pleaser, inside all of us that rarely gets a chance to be seen.

I had only planned on being a mascot for one period in one game. After talking to Tammy Tragis who's in charge of Freshman/Transfer Services as well as heading the student mascot extravaganza, and hearing how they need more student mascot volunteers, don't be surprised to be seeing a little more of the extra-tall bear in action.