Murphspot

2016 Murphspot Mascot Bracket, Round Two, Part Two

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Tue, 05 Apr 2016 16:27:00 +0000

#1 UNC Tar Heels vs. #9 Providence Friars

I'm willing to grant Rameses a bit more of a shot in a straight up battle compared to someone like Rodney, primarly because Rameses seems like he's angrier. He's also mastered headwear, which if it's reinforced could be the decisive factor in a physical fight.

But he's not in a physical fight. He's facing Friar Dom the Confessor. Friar Dom the Eliminator.

Fun Fact: Friar Dom is voiced by Ian McDiarmid.

Friar Dom the Doombringer.

Providence advances.

#12 Chattanooga Mocs vs. #13 Stony Brook Seawolves

The fact that I allowed the Mocs through to this round is largely a function of the fact that Scrappy is frightening looking for a Mockingbird and Harper Lee wasn't from Indiana. Here, we've got at it essence a bird named after Scooby Doo's annoying nephew trying to fight a WOLF FROM THE SEA.

Stony Brook advances.

#11 Tulsa Golden Hurricanes vs. #3 West Virginia Mountaineers

Captain Cane's more or less had the run of the table so far in the bracket as it's pretty hard to say that the guy who can control the atmosphere is likely to face much challenge from a mere mortal. And normally, I'd say that probably applies to the Mountaineer himself.

However, the Mountaineer's got home court advantage, which in this case means forcing Captain Cane to try to maintain a hurricane over a series of mountains. Not the highest mountains, sure, but probably enough to get the job done. And the Mountaineer seems like he'd be cool with riding this out in a copse of trees or a cave or something.

Jack Stillman cares not for your silly windpowers.

West Virginia advances.

#10 Pitt Panthers vs. #2 Xavier Musketeers

It's hard for me to argue that this goes anyway other than how it did in the last round; one mascot's a cat while the other is a dude with a gun.

Also, a cape for some damn reason or another.

You could say, I guess, that the panther is going to provide more of a challenge in that it might actually be able to get a swipe in while the Musketeer is reloading, but beyond that we're just relying on the possibility that the French military's knowledge of North American wildlife wasn't up to snuff in the mid 1800s. I don't think that's enough

Xavier advances.

#16 Hampton Pirates vs. #8 Texas Tech Red Raiders

So, in the Plunder Bowl here, I'm not sure how to define a winner; surely, in terms of monetary value lost, it'd probably have to go to the Pirates considering the amount of freight transported by sea.

The Masked Rider, on the other hand, looks like he'd mostly steal horses and rob a few banks and have a merry old time in a small town, but might be overwhelmed by the prospect of seizing, say, a train. Handily, he's got back up from Raider Red, who carries on the tradition of representing Texas by showing us what it would be like if Sam Elliott continued to sort of age until he was nothing but mustache.

Also happens to fit in the broad mascot category of "Similar to but legally distinct from a Warner Bros. Character"

For that alone, I'm going with Texas Tech.

Texas Tech advances.

#5 Purdue Boilermakers vs. #13 Iona Gaels

I can't find a part of the Ulster Cycle that corresponds to Killian the Gael having to fight a train. The closest I can find to this matchup would be someone with a vaguely Irish name having to assert his dominance over a train.

Well, ok then, I guess.

Iona advances.

#6 Seton Hall Pirates vs. #3 Utah Utes

I'm not really up on my naval lore, but it's got to be a good thing that the Utes mascot is a hawk rather than, say, an albatross. Well, good in this instance. I'd actually be a huge proponent of an Albatross mascot just to get some variety in here.

Also, that's a beak shape that's just underrepresented in the bracket.

As it stands, though, I think the blue-haired pirate should be capable of handling a bird.

Seton Hall advances.

#7 Dayton Flyers vs. #12 Middle Tennessee Blue Raiders

So here's the issue. I would defer to the fact that Dayton is higher ranked and therefore has home-field advantage and speculate that therefore a battle in the air or involving aerial warfare would favor him, but for one problem.

Lightning has wings.

WHAT NOW, MORTALS?

I really don't know if World War One flight programs trained pilots to deal with winged horses. I think that probably, upon seeing a horse rise into his field of vision, the Rudy might panic and make a mistake, and since I'm still presuming that Lightning has some sort of weather power, that makes the difference.

Middle Tennessee advances.

2016 Murphspot Mascot Bracket - Round Two, Part One

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Fri, 01 Apr 2016 16:41:00 +0000

#16 Austin Peay Governors vs. #8 Colorado Buffaloes

Once again, I'm led to worry about whatever sort of executive authority the Austin Peay Governor (who, I guess, is probably Austin Peay). I can't actually find much about the historical Peay's stance on Buffalo or Colorado, though it turns out he's the guy who signed the law that kicked off the Scopes trial, so I guess there's that.

All we can do is take a look at the mascot and see if The Governor seems like the sort who would get a kick out of slaughtering some buffalo. Buffaloes? Buffali.

It's what makes him feel alive, as it turns out.

Oh my. So, yes, then.

Austin Peay advances.

#12 South Dakota State Jackrabbits vs. #13 Hawaii Rainbow Warriors

Regardless of whether or not we eventually stick with the "Rainbow Warriors as Jedi" assessment, I'm having trouble thinking of a way for the Jackrabbits to stand up to really anything at all that has "Warrior" in either its name or description. The floppy ears suggest defense and evasion more than anything aggressive, and the backwards baseball cap just makes me kind of sad.

We're about due for a remake of The Fly, except instead of Jeff Goldblum and a fly, we could have a rabbit and Fred Durst.

Aside from invoking the Kennywood coaster, this seems pretty straightforward. Even if we *did* go the coaster route, it's hard to think of a less threatening challenge for Hawaii. Maybe if they were facing the South Dakota State Racers.

Hawaii advances.

#6 Arizona Wildcats vs. #14 Buffalo Bulls

This bracket has, at times, been pretty strongly hat focused, and Wilbur definitely beats Victor E. Bull in that regard. He also beats him in the Mascot Name category, as Victor E. Bull is just really lazy.

Previous Victor E. Bull (above) would likely have taken the bracket as a result of aw-shucksness.

On the other hand, he's some sort of bobcat and I cannot conceive of a way that the weight advantage doesn't figure in here. I guess it's possible that whatever Blue Cattle variant Victor is an example of is the size of weasel, but that's probably not the case.

Buffalo advances.

#10 Temple Owls vs. #2 Villanova Wildcats

Will D. Cat at the very least appears to be some sort of panther, and his alarmingly blue eyes are a pretty good indication that he's hopped up on something.

Meanwhile, we have Hooter. I can't actually tell I'm supposed to infer that Hooter is simply keeping with Temple's school colors or if he's actually been outfitted with a prosthetic steel beak. I presume it's the latter, because I don't know what the hell goes on in Philadelphia.

Hooter is the Tycho Brahe of owls.

That decided, I've got to think the more weaponized Hooter is actually able to pull off an upset against Yet Another Wildcat.

Temple advances.

#16 Southern Jaguars vs. #8 St. Joseph's Hawks

Southern's definitely got the size advantage, and I'm concerned that they would be able to somehow use the network of Jaguar mascots to summon Jaxson de Ville, and with him a reign of terror that threatens to destroy the NCAA, or at least provoke some rule changes about where mascots are allowed to be.

Jaxson de Ville is still a threat.

And yet, all I can think about is the stamina of an otherwise non-descript hawk who never stops flapping. I don't know. I'm not sure that can be weaponized, but it seems to be overwhelming enough to provoke an upset.

St. Joseph's advances

#5 Baylor Bears vs. #4 Duke Blue Devils

To be honest, I'd sort of expected that the bears would be working in concert with the Devils if only because they're agents of chaos and malice.

Sure, they might occasionally deliver some packages, but they don't remember the series finale when Baloo ate literally everyone.

If this were the hat bracket, which might be preferable, he'd have a shot, I think.

On the whole, I'm going to say that the Blue Devils are able to more strongly control the emotional/psychic damage game, and that the bear's claws can't hold up against whatever the Duke Blue Devil is tempting him toward. I assume barbecue? Probably tempting him toward barbecue.

Duke advances.

#11 Northern Iowa Panthers vs. #3 Texas A&M Aggies

If any of the time I spent playing Red Dead Redemption means much of anything, direct contact between a big cat and a horse usually ends with the horse getting eaten and the rider being stranded in the middle of nowhere in Fake Texas with only his fast travel to save him.

Add in the fact that TK Panther definitely has a coat of Vibranium and this isn't much of a contest.

Northern Iowa advances.

#10 Virginia Commonwealth Rams vs. #2 Oklahoma Sooners

Presumably, part of what the Sooners were doing in moving into Oklahoma would be to deal with livestock, which makes this seems pretty one-sided. Boomer and Sooner might have a tough fight ahead of them, but Rodney's mechanism of attack puts his head in harm's way, while the Oklahoma Ponies get to just turn around and kick.

I'm afraid this goes to the Pete Wentz Ponies.

Oklahoma advances.

2016 Murphspot Mascot Bracket - Midwest Region

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Tue, 29 Mar 2016 14:55:00 +0000

#1 Virginia Cavaliers vs. #16 Hampton Pirates

I'll be honest, I'm a fan of Pirate mascots. Part of that is childhood bias, and part of that is a prediliction toward the sort of tricorne the Hampton Pirate has going on here.

Also, he's got sort of a pained "I never really intended to get this deep into piracy, but here we are" expression.

It's just that the sort of hat that has enough brim that you've got to bind it up into shapes that suggests you've conquered a sufficient amount of foes that no one's going to say anything about it.

Cavman's brim is nothing to sneeze at, of course, and we're in the rare situation where these mascots could actually, I guess, actually come to blows. I'm not sure how crimes at sea related to Royalist opposition to Oliver Cromwell, but I can see there being an argument for it.

Also, while I appreciate Cavman's goatee, I've got to side with the Pirate in a facial-hair-off.

I'm going to say that the Pirates' dedication to hat folding is the deciding factor here.

Hampton advances.

#8 Texas Tech Red Raiders vs. #9 Butler Bulldogs

Ok, so Texas Tech has The Masked Rider, which is not only a pleasantly unique mascot name (as opposed to, say, the myriad Pistol Petes that dot the landscape), but he originates in the 1930's, when a student threw a mask on to conceal his identity, "borrowed" (which I think we have to read as "stole") a horse from the agricultural department and rode it onto the field ahead of the team as a prank.

Also, the prank was originated by Douglas Fairbanks, by the looks of things.

Ignoring the size advantage and that I'd expect any self-respecting Raider to have a weapon, I think the Red Raiders don't even have to fight the Bulldogs here. The power of a Prank Based Mascot is enough to pull Texas Tech through.

Texas Tech Advances.

#5 Purdue Boilermakers vs. #12 Arkansas Little Rock Trojans

I feel like we've had this discussion before. Probably not with Arkansas Little Rock, but I'm pretty sure prior brackets have resulted in an anachronistic warrior (who I'd guess would either be USC, Michigan State or maybe San Diego State?) being confronted with Purdue Pete and several tons of train.

Also, those are the eyes of a man who would not flinch from hitting a dude with a train.

Now, I'll admit. I'd watch a retelling of the events of the Trojan War where, rather than crafting the Horse, Odysseus simply waits until nightfall, lays down some track and smashes through Troy's gates with a damned train. I think the fact that I don't know what the Trojan response would be seals it.

Purdue advances.

#4 Iowa State Cyclones vs. #13 Iona Gaels

I don't get Cy, you guys.

I mean, I get Cy in the sense that he's some sort of terrifying toothy bird from the netherworld whose only source of joy is pain, but as a mascot, I'm not sure I'm on board. You've got Cyclones as a team name and a school in a very flat part of the country, and so to go with something other than some sort of actual cyclone seems weak. Especially a small bird that would definitely be tossed around.

Say what you will about Iona's Gaels' beards, but I'm going to assume that the Gael can take care of a Cardinal. Even one as mighty as Cy.

Iona advances.

#6 Seton Hall Pirates vs. # 11 Gonzaga Bulldogs

It's not me, you guys. It's Pirates. Pirates naturally just really want to fight bulldogs, apparently.

In this, the Pirate region, I'm a little more skeptical of the chances of the Seton Hall Pirate, largely because he seems to have spent most of the gold he's stolen from trading vessels on bright blue Manic Panic for *all of his facial hair*. I appreciate a commitment to the school colors, but it's potentially a sign that he's going to run into trouble in later rounds as he deals with his impulsivity.

Also, it turns out he wasn't pirating trading ships so much as No Use for a Name albums.

Spike seems like a fine bulldog. His underbite is a plus, but I'm concerned that in a Mascot Bracket of Death, his sad eyes suggest he's not going to be able to soldier through.

Seton Hall advances.

#3 Utah Utes vs. #14 Fresno State Bulldogs

I am out of ways to have fluffy mascots kill bulldogs.

I am lost. There is no end. Everywhere I look, there are more bulldogs.

It is adorable. It is unending.

As for the matchup, we've done hawk on bulldog. Hawk wins. Well done, Swoop. I'm sorry that it was your matchup that drove me to madness, and that I didn't allow you to team up with Fresno State's bulldog for some painfully forced Swoop Dogg jokes.

Swoop acknowledges that it's better this way.

Utah advances.

#7 Dayton Flyers vs. #10 Syracuse Orange

I get the sense that Rudy Flyer is up to something, but in a good-natured, playful mischief sort of way and not a bomb-his-enemies-into-embers sort of way.

Oh well, whatever. You and Rudy and that red sweater.

Otto is an orange. The absolute best I can come up with is that maybe, *maybe* Otto could attack with citric acid somehow? Maybe try to get it into his foes' eyes? That's the best I can do. And, unfortunately for Otto, Rudy's got that problem covered because he's coming into the battle with the proper PPE in the form of those goggles.

And, getting back to the first point, I don't see Rudy as a "destroy civilization" pilot, but ruining some citrus crops? That seems like it might be his speed.

Dayton advances.

#2 Michigan State Spartans vs. #12 Middle Tennessee Blue Raiders

The problem with doing this over the course of the tournament is that, obviously, we know how this played out in reality. On one hand, we've got battle trained warriors as embodied by Sparty the Spartan, whose eyebrows suggest he has had enough of this.

The Blue Raiders were once the Pedagogues, so good on them for establishing a reasonable mascot name. They've got some sort of sentient Blue Horse that might be able to deal thunder damage? The t-shirt suggests that he's got abilities beyond that of a regular horse, and the smile suggests that you'll never find the bodies.

Welcome to the Terror Stable.

So do I go with the upset (a Spartan being defeated by a horse, which preserves the potential of a Red Raiders/Blue Raiders matchup down the line) and include the massive upset that happened in reality or presume that Sparty could handle a magical horse and close the opening with some semblance that this is completely independent of the actual games?

Hell with it. Lightning's got magical weather powers, and I find this to be funnier.

Middle Tennessee advances.

2016 Murphspot Mascot Bracket - East Region

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Fri, 25 Mar 2016 15:14:00 +0000

#1 UNC Tar Heels vs. Florida Gulf Coast Eagles

I'm generally pretty generous with birds, eagles in particular. I don't know whether that's a reaction to watching some sort of nature documentary a while ago and seeing an eagle tear into a fish or out of a sense of patriotic duty.

Also, freaky bird teeth.

Don't get me wrong. Azul seems great, but Rameses just seems like something an eagle would not physically be capable of dealing with.

UNC advances.

#8 USC Trojans vs. #9 Providence Friars

Oh, Friar Dom.

Listen, I know that this is supposed to be about which mascot would defeat its opponent in battle. And USC has a horse named Traveler with a dude with an actual sword, so he should win here against what is, in effect, a monk.

Well, he was a monk. Now he's a monk who has your soul.

But the Trojan's attacks are only physical. Friar Dom's charge is Terror Itself. His wounds are emotional. Friar Dom is the Fear Prototype. Remember when you were a kid, and you heard stories about the bogeyman, or the Jersey Devil, or a driver who had driven into the lake and makes a nightly walk to the cemetery where his cenotaph is located, or Geraldo Rivera?

That's what Friar Dom is. I'm not making a metaphor. I'm saying he's behind it all.

Providence advances.

#5 Indiana Hoosiers vs. #12 Chattanooga Mocs

Indiana doesn't have a mascot. They've got a team name, though, so I'll assume that their mascot is just a person of my choosing who happens to be an Indiana native. I could have gone with the protagonist of Cat's Cradle, here, but I feel like the more rational choice is Fort Wayne native and Darrin Prime, Dick York.

I'm surprised as well, Dick.

The Mocs have Scrappy Moc, who is actually sort of menancing for a mockingbird.

I'm saying this is a little aggressive for what amounts to a tiny little songbird,.

Usually I'd give Dick York the advantage here, but considering Scrappy's gaze and the likelihood that our chosen Hoosier will be too busy dealing with whatever Agnes Moorehead is up to, I think this has to go to the Mocs.

Chattanooga advances.

#4 Kentucky Wildcats vs. #13 Stony Brook Seawolves

My favorite part of writing these things is discovering new mascots when teams that haven't been in the tournament for a while make it. So here I'm left with a choice between a fairly standard wildcat and a *mythical wolf from the sea*. And somehow, a mythical wolf from the sea from a folk tale from across the continent. Good on you, Stony Brook.

The most terrifying section of the myth involves the Seawolf learning how to don a baseball cap.

I'll even let the fact that the mascot's name is a terribly predictable "Wolfie" and the fact that Wolfie the Seawolf's Wikipedia page is a mess of what I presume are Stony Brook students inserting themselves into Tlingit myth slide. I'll let a lot slide for something other than another Wildcat or Bear.

Stony Brook advances.

#6 Notre Dame Fighting Irish vs. #11 Tulsa Golden Hurricane

In one sense, this should be pretty easy for the Golden Hurricane. Commanding the weather is a pretty powerful ability, and at first blush there isn't much the Fighting Irish should be able to do to resist it. One imagines that Captain Cane could wreak havoc on some coastal Irish cities.

But we're not in coastal Irish cities. We're in landlocked South Bend, which is under assault from a storm-man from Tulsa of all places. So let's go to the videotape.

In searching for "mythical Irish figure fights something from the sea", the closest analog I could find was Cú Chulainn's interaction with Fand. Fand's flying around as a bird (as otherwordly sea deities are wont to do), minding her own business, when Cú Chulainn throws a rock at her and her sister despite being warned by his wife that the birds he's aiming at are pretty clearly above his current level and he'd do well to either leave them alone or go gain more XP somewhere else.

I'm going to say the bracket has failed here in not pitting Notre Dame against any of the schools with a dog as the mascot.

He hits Fand, then falls down ill and has Fand and her sister show up in non-bird form and beat him with a whip until he's nearly dead. So far, things are looking pretty good for the sea.

Cú Chulainn recovers over the course of a year and they reconcile (by which I mean ahem) and comes back to help Fand and her sister out, which I guess we could interpret as Notre Dame having some sort of advantage over Tulsa? I'm not going to get into the affair that happens next, as I'm sure Notre Dame and Tulsa students and alumni would appreciate that I didn't.

The moral of the story is that I was looking for an excuse to incorporate the Pogues somehow.

In the end, though, the Notre Dame Leprechaun isn't quite a mythic hero and Captain Cane is more of a conjurer than a bird woman, so the Golden Hurricanes march on.

Tulsa advances.

#3 West Virginia Mountaineer vs. #14 Stephen F. Austin Lumberjacks

It's General Purpose Woodsman vs. Lumber and Paper Industry Woodsman! The matchup we've all been waiting for.

The weapon (and bicep) advantage goes to Stephen F. Austin. At minimum, that's a heavy and effective axe and there's the very real possibility that it's sentient. As for the Mountaineer, I'm thinking he's going to be less effective in single combat, but might be able to pull something off by setting traps and relying on his superior knowledge of the terrain.

The lumberjack is in this for a paycheck, which I think doesn't stand up against the Mountaineer's expertise.

West Virginia advances.

#7 Wisconsin Badgers vs. #10 Pitt Panthers

Oh hey, an actual "animals that could plausibly meet" battle.

There are tenacity arguments to be made in Bucky's favor, though even that has some doubts considering his sensible outerwear.

To be fair, having been to Wisconsin, it can be a bit chilly.

The Pitt Panther, on the other hand, is an apex predator. There's not much to say beyond that.

Pitt advances.

#2 Xavier Musketeers vs. #15 Weber State Wildcats

I know I've been pretty down on Wildcats here, and I could spend a paragraph spouting some nonsense about the relative inaccuracy of period muskets, but I'm going to assume that The Musketeer is both competent in using his weapon and is getting some sort of marksman's bonus from his sweet mustache.

Also, I sort of assume he can use his hat for brief bouts of flight,.

Xavier advances.

2016 Murphspot Mascot Bracket - West Region

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Mon, 21 Mar 2016 16:40:00 +0000

#1 Oregon Ducks vs. #16 Southern Jaguars

So, here's the thing. In reality, this game never happened (because Southern lost to Holy Cross) and would have been a rout (as the game against Holy Cross was), because it would have been Oregon against Southern. But this isn't reality. This is the mascot bracket.

In one corner, we have LaCumba. In the other, we have the Duck Formerly Pretty Clearly But Legally Distinct From Donald. To be fair to the Duck, he's held his own against a Large Cat mascot before, apparently the result of a dispute over pushups.

In the end, we've got a duck fighting a thing that is much larger, stronger and claw-ier than a duck.

Southern advances.

#8 St. Joseph's Hawks vs. #9 Cincinnati Bearcats

As covered in previous mascot brackets, Cincinnati's Fightin' Binturongs are small plaintain loving mammals who evidently smell like popcorn. That's adorable, but they should put up a fight here. They've got claws, after all, and apparently eat birds on occasion, so it's down to checking with what's going on with the St. Joseph's Hawk.

OH NO. Not only does the Hawk get some terror points strictly for being terrifying, but he apparently also NEVER STOPS FLAPPING HIS ARMS DURING GAMES. That's too much. I was frightened of the hawk before, but it's horrifying visage combined with crazy upper body stamina is too much. I'm sorry, Binturongs.

St. Joseph's advances.

#5 Baylor Bears vs. #12 Yale Bulldogs

So, Baylor has both a costumed mascot (Bruiser) and two live mascots (Judge Joy and Judge Lady), while Yale has a live mascot in the form of Handsome Dan and a somewhat-oddly muscled costumed mascot (Boola).

I don't know that I've ever been scared of dog thighs. I'm scared of dog thighs now.

As far as the costumed mascots go, I think it's probably a wash. So it's up to the live mascots.

This is going to seem like I'm against dogs. I'm not. I like dogs. I like Handsome Dan. I like that his name is Handsome Dan. I could even be convinced that he's got a chance of standing up to Bruiser purely through being an adorable dog. What I do not like is the chance that he'll be able to do much in a fight against an actual bear.

Baylor wins.

#4 Duke Blue Devils vs. #13 UNC Wilmington Seahawks

I never know what to do with Duke, so let's start with the Seahawks. Once again, we've got a colorful bird costume that clearly seems to be upset about something.

I'm going to guess it's the university fees that have been added to his bill for damaging the court. Good on Sammy for adhering to his unorthodox ideas about shoes.

Terrifying beak notwithstanding, this would probably turn out differently if we had Sammy the Osprey against some sort of fish mascot. Maybe a small mammal. But definitely not whatever sort of otherworldly horror that the Blue Devil represents.

Duke advances.

#6 Texas Longhorns vs. #11 Northern Iowa Panthers

So here's where my lack of experience with livestock comes into play. At first glance, Bevo the Texas Longhorn should have an advantage because of these ridiculous horns, but the curvature seems problematic. That is, I'm not sure how he'd actually spear an opponent. Maybe I'm discounting steer proprioception too much, though.

I'm just saying it's an awkward angle of attack.

Panthers, on the other hand, seem like the sort of thing that if it were near where you were raising cattle, you wouldn't just let the cattle fend for themselves. I'd imagine you take steps to mitigate the panther danger, especially in the form of T.C. Panther. Maybe some sort of panther trap? Probably just a shotgun.

If Bevo had the shotgun, then we might have a fight here. As it stands, I'm thinking dexterity takes the day, and T.C. is able to dodge the horns and attack the underbelly.

Northern Iowa wins.

#3 Texas A&M Aggies vs. #14 Green Bay Phoenix

Surprisingly, the mascot for the University of Wisconsin - Green Bay is not Aaron Rodgers. Instead, we've got "Phlash the Phoenix" which is a committment to alliteration that, I think, might be a bit more than I can handle. In any case, Phlash is a big, green bird whose super-power is resurrection, which doesn't so much harm his opponent as it does just drag the battle out.

Pictured: Phlash the Phoenix raising his chorus of the Damned.

Texas A&M has Reveille, a Rough Collie (as opposed to a Final Draft Collie), who, I presume, has the ability to not come to his opponent's aid in the event that they wind up trapped in a well. Still, collies can bite and I think this ends on a technicality; before Phlash is able to resurrect into a new phoenix, the match ends in the brief moment in which he's technically died.

Texas A&M advances.

#7 Oregon State Beavers vs. #10 Virginia Commonwealth Rams

Benny Beaver exists to build dams around my nightmares.

Fun fact: Benny's main food source is screams.

That said, I think beavers are mostly defense oriented. They're good at fortification, but I'm not sure the buck teeth or the flappy tail is going to do much in battle.

Rams, and Rodney in particular, have at the very least some manner of charge attack. He's also got freaky foam rubber musculature, and I'm not sure how to parse what a ram could possibly be doing to result in Ram arms of that magnitude. This isn't close

Virginia Commonwealth advances.

#2 Oklahoma Sooners vs. #15 CSU Bakersfield Roadrunners

This is another area in which my own experience with draft animals (I have none) is probably making it so that I don't see the overall benefits of having floppy-haired ponies as a mascot.

For CSU Bakersfield, I think they're expecting to be buoyed up by the cartoon Roadrunner, which is presumably why Rowdy the Roadrunner is this particular shade of blue. Maybe my color discernment isn't all that strong, though.

Now I'm worried I don't know what blue is.

You could make an argument here that Rowdy will be able to avoid being stomped on by Boomer, but absent any wacky Rube Goldberg schemes and outsized hubris, I don't see a way the Rowdy could actually damage Boomer.

Oklahoma advances.

Murphspot Mascot Bracket 2016 - South Region

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Thu, 17 Mar 2016 16:34:00 +0000

#1 Kansas Jayhawks vs. Austin Peay Governors

I've tried to figure out the Jayhawks. In one sense, they're more terrifying than most of the bird mascots, purely because they've chosen not only to wear shoes (which I imagine was probably mandated in Jayhawk society because their razorclaws were responsible for too many deaths), but they've also chosen buckles as the fastening device.

That is madness. We are dealing with a bird that may not listen to reason.

Then again, they're not a bird I've seen in the wild (probably because they're fictional), and so I've got to presume they've got some sort of enclave. Unfortunately, despite the pure terror represented by the Jayhawk's shoebuckles, I'm afraid the Governors' control over the budget that allows for the districting of bird preserve territory is overwhelming. At the very least, they'd be able to withhold funding long enough to starve them out.

Austin Peay advances.

#8 Colorado Buffaloes vs. #9 Connecticut Huskies

I always go through these brackets explaining that no, really, I do like dogs. And I do. I like huskies, even. The ones I've met have been very agreeable. They're intelligent and loyal and have a lot of positive traits.

One trait they do not have is "weighing a literal ton" or "having big horns on the sides of their heads." I'm sorry, Huskies. If this were a pound-for-pound comparison, then it'd be close, but this is a dog against something the size of a midsize sedan.

UNLESS.

Colorado advances.

#5 Maryland Terrapins vs. #12 South Dakota State Jackrabbits

I've been doing these brackets for a long time, and I think this is the first time everything's gotten all Aesopian on me. The correct answer, if I'm trying to instruct readers that being lazy isn't a good thing, is that the terrapin overcomes the jackrabbits through sheer force of will.

But I'm not trying to teach you that lesson. I'm trying to teach you the lesson that you should put off work for however long it takes to read one of these exceedingly lengthy posts. As that is the case, I'm going to rely on my own experience in figuring out a fight to the death between two opponents that don't seem to want to fight (what with the focus on defense and escape).

If I walk around my neighborhood, I've seen a lot of rabbits. Sure, they probably get killed by some coyotes now and again, but they're also out in the middle of winter. Most people aren't out in the middle of winter in Chicago, so that's got to speak to some sort of tenacity.

They don't even have those L heatlamps. I don't get it.

On the contrary, I very rarely see turtles. Now, it could be that they're in the sewers, out of sight, training with a rat, but it seems somewhat more likely that they're just not around.

South Dakota State advances.

#4 California Golden Bears vs. #13 Hawaii Rainbow Warriors

So, listen. Bears are basically monsters.

But if we're going cinematic with this, I've got to think about what the name is going to mean for the fight.

"Rainbow Warriors" evidently stems from a tradition that Hawaii couldn't lose if a rainbow appeared; I'm going to presume rainbows are more common in Hawaii than in overcast Chicago, so that that becomes a strong predictor. One might then conclude that they're actually using the rainbow as a weapon. Rainbows result from the diffraction of light by water droplets, but the active thing we want to think about here is that these are now Warriors who are using light as a weapon.

Pictured: Me painting myself into a corner if I ever have to go against Hawaii in this bracket.

Hawaii advances.

#6 Arizona Wildcats vs. #11 Wichita State Shockers

Wildcats, overall, don't impress much in the Murphspot Mascot Bracket. They're slightly more fierce than, well, feral cats, which is to say that if they were going up against some sort of Rodent mascot. They should be a relatively easy fight, but I actually think they have a shot here. Yes, WuShock is a terrifying wheat elemental, but as someone who owns a cat and has dangled yarn and straws and things in front of the cat, it's pretty clear that wheat should be a natural enemy of the cat.

Even a wildcat, I assume will have an instinctual "must kill" reaction to whatever WuShock can throw at him. Maybe there's some sort of gluten insensitivity, but I don't think Wilbur cares about that. I think he cares only about destruction.

Well, and hats. Destruction and hats.

Arizona advances.

#3 Miami Hurricanes vs. #14 Buffalo Bulls

I've got to think that Buffalo teams all sort of look at the International League's Buffalo Bisons with a bit of jealousy. Every other team in the city has to work something other than a buffalo into their team name while still working a buffalo into the iconography. Professional teams have tried to go with puns (the Bills) or turning their logo into a rebus puzzle (the Sabres).

University of Buffalo could have gotten away with it. Adult male buffaloes are called bulls, but for some reason, their actual mascot (Victor E. Bull) is, as far as I can tell, not a buffalo. Sure, he's still an ungulate, but he's clearly domesticated and even if he's a pretty great blue color, I'm just left sort of disappointed.

Also, I don't trust a bull in sneakers. Just a rule I have.

This would have all fallen apart if it weren't for the equally inexplicable decision by the Miami Hurricanes, named after an enormous meteorological event that wreaks destruction wherever it goes, to set a small fish-eating bird as their mascot. I assume that, even if he's not a buffalo, Victor E. Bull is up to the challenge presented by Sebastian.

Buffalo advances.

#7 Iowa Hawkeyes vs. #10 Temple Owls

It's a bird-of-prey off. As mentioned previously, I find the new Herky a little, well, unsettling.

By a little unsettling, I mean this post was delayed as I threw my computer onto some train tracks.

This could work to his advantage, but that seems like the sort of thing that Hooter the Owl would handle well. For the purposes of this fight, I'm assuming that Hooter has a pretty high WIS and INT bonus, is proficient in investigation and has advantage on wisdom saving throws. Also, I cannot look at Herky anymore without screaming in terror.

Temple advances.

#2 Villanova Wildcats vs. #16 North Carolina Asheville Bulldogs

D'aww. I don't even want to have these two fight. I want this to result in a Merry Melodies cartoon, not the death of one of the combatants. Rocky even looks like a bulldog who just wants to see what you guys are doing over there.

I imagine the look is intended to be "ferocity" rather than "just heard the word 'walk'."

The problem is that Villanova's wildcat appears to be an actual big cat, and I fear that this ends poorly for the good-natured Rocky, purely from a size perspective.

Villanova advances.

2016 Murphspot Mascot Bracket - First Four

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Tue, 15 Mar 2016 16:10:00 +0000

And lo, the skies darken and a terrifying howl is heard across the badlands. You and your party are beset by a mortal terror. Over the sound of your own pounding heartbeat, you are able to make out the words you have been hearing for weeks now, but which have existed as a murmur until this moment.

"It's time for the Murphspot Mascot Bracket again."

For anyone who is unfamiliar, this is how this will work.

Rules:

I'm not going to have this complete in time to actually fill out a bracket; even if we ignore the play-in games, that would require that this is done by the weekend. Last year's final post about this nonsense went up on March 29. So if you're planning on using the Murphspot Mascot Bracket to fill out your own bracket for whatever quasi-legal office pool you're entering, you won't find much help here.

As always, the scenario is a fight to the death between the mascots either as personified by their faom rubber mascot suits or, in some cases, their appearance in a logo, statue or otherwise. Home turf advantage goes to the higher seed, which I rarely remember to implement. We'll see.

Links will appear at the end of this post as each subsequent part is published, as these things tend to be too long to read outright.

First Four

#11 Vanderbilt Commodores vs. #11 Wichita State Shockers

While the play-in games are always a bit unpredictable, it's a little alarming to have to deal with mascot powerhouse Wichita State so soon. The benefit, I think, of having a plant elemental is that whatever the Commodores' experience in naval warfare or Motown, there's always the chance that WuShock could just command Vanderbilt's staple crops to fail, destroying public support for the war effort. Even resorting to the Commodore 64's library leaves Vanderbilt with little to hope for; the most relevant title I could find in a quick search was Fast Food, but even that is primarily egg-focused.

It should go without saying that Dizzy the Egg is an abomination.

Wichita State Advances.

#16 Holy Cross Crusaders vs. #16 Southern Jaguars

My "home turf" rule has already fallen apart, because these teams share a seeding. The argument for the Crusaders is primarily zeal-based; Iggy the Crusader looks like he has a certainty of purpose. He's also got an actual weapon and probably at least some training in what to do if something is trying to kill you. Southern's argument is that the Crusader likely will have little experience with big cats and, if it can force the meeting to be in Baton Rouge, that Iggy will actually just cook inside his armor. Also, look at LaCumba. He's pretty great.

Having been in Baton Rouge in the summer, despite the armor, I think I've got to go with Southern, here. Iggy's training will likely have been against other armed human opponents, and I cannot stress to you enough the experience of being in Baton Rouge with 3000% humidity and the sun inches from you at all times, particularly while wearing steel.

Southern advances.

#16 Florida Gulf Coast Eagles vs. #16 Fairleigh Dickinson Knights

Against a smaller, less armed opponent, the Eagles might have a shot here. They're apex predators and if they were going into battle against the Fairleigh Dickinson Trout or the Fairleigh Dickinson Housecats, it'd be Florida Gulf Coast all the way.

What they are going up against is a blue horse named Knightro.

Also, the Chess Piece Logo has some pretty great late 80's feathering going on with his mane.

To future readers who are looking to start up a college for the sole purpose of winning this Mascot Bracket, the keys to victory are puns and ostentatious mascot colors. I'm even willing to overlook the logo being a chess piece. That's how much I like Knightro.

Fairleigh Dickinson advances.

#11 Michigan Wolverines vs. #11 Tulsa Golden Hurricane

In recent years, Captain Cane has been a generic-ish looking superhero with control over the weather, so I'm pretty sure that if my knowledge of Marvel's lore were better, I could find a comic in which Wolverine and Storm had some manner of explosive falling out.

As it stands, we've got a relatively fierce but pretty small creature trying to fight against what is apparently called an Atmokinetic, and I just don't see that working out well for the wolverine.

Tulsa advances.

Bus Trip to Galway (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Not Break the CD Into a Thousand Pieces)

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Sat, 04 Apr 2015 07:21:00 +0000

I just want to sleep.

That's my sentiment pretty much every day at 6am, but especially when I'm in another country on vacation. I do not want to be awake.

Today's adventure is a day trip to the Cliffs of Moher, which are big and nature-ish and cliff-like and on the other side of the island. So we boarded a bus at 6:50 in the morning, bound for Galway.

I'm not great at sleeping in transit, but was tired enough that while I couldn't sleep, my attempts to stay awake by reading were pretty much useless. Not in that I actually fell asleep for any appreciable length of time, but more in that I'll have to re-read a bunch of things because it was all an incoherent jumble.

We stopped briefly in Athlone for some coffee, and then it was on to Galway by about 10am for a short tour of the city by a tour guide who, though very good at her job, was also at least an order of magnitude more awake than everyone she was dealing with.

Happily, Galway is relatively small and walkable, so running around the streets was pretty doable, even for a big large touristy group that is clearly a big large group of tourists. We were brought to a market street (appropriately, on Market Street) and were given the option of splitting off to either buy things in the market or walk around St. Nicholas' Church, which is big and very old and very made of stone. I wound up in the church (which had a huge number of memorial plaques and was getting ready for Easter services), while Marina and Alice headed off to the market. So good times for all.

After corralling the group, we boarded the bus again (minus two people, evidently) for the trip up the coast to the Cliffs of Moher with a few brief stops along the way to get out, walk to smaller cliff-like structures and take in the natural beauty of the place, mostly in the form of people taking pictures of it. Not that I was immune to that.

I assume this is from the future cover of an album of terrible smooth jazz I will make at some point.

We got a brief stop in a pub who clearly deals mostly with big obnoxious tour buses and continued to the Cliffs up roads that I'm really, really glad I wasn't driving on.

We were told, when we arrived, that we'd have two hours, and couldn't understand what we'd need all that time for.

As it turns out, we'd need that time for running around and looking at things. Which was incredible. I know that most of this has been repeated insistences that I don't have the ability to describe any of the scenery in anything close to a grand enough manner, and this isn't any different.

Look at this. This is nonsense.

One thing that this side-trip did teach us is that Skye was effectively deserted when we were there. It was awesome. Sure, there were some folks that we thought might break into our car and some awkward co-tenants at the B&B, but overall, there were just very few people. The Cliffs, on the other hand, have something like a dozen or so busloads of people, so while it's beautiful, there are just a ton of people running around doing things. Which is fine, but makes actually using the pathways a little slow and inconvenient.

Also, I've learned that my fear of heights seems to be based on whether the heights are man-made? I guess? I usually don't like heights at all, but as a city-dweller in a very flat part of the country, I'm more likely to encounter heights in the context of a building. For some reason, I was much more comfortable near the cliff edge. I have no idea why that should be the case.

We blew through our two hours and were back on the bus to Galway, and then to Dublin. At this point, the lack of sleep caught up with me and my attempts to stay awake to Dublin by listening to an audiobook were foiled; I drifted in and out and was absolutely baffled by the time we got to Galway. The trip back to Dublin was three hours, but it was three hours with the same four songs on what I assume is just a collection of traditional music that we'd had all day. We got off on the north bank of the Liffey and I swore that if I ever heard another about ripples in the rockpools I would set fire to something.

We crossed over into Temple Bar, which was orders of magnitude more lively. Street bands, pubs full of people, and general chaos. First things first, we went and bought the bottle of Talisker, then found a Mongolian BBQ restaurant (which helped my mood immensely, as I was still in a foul state after the bus ride), We stopped by one of the less-crazily-populated pubs as it felt like we were more or less required to, then hailed a cab and headed for the hotel.

And that's it. That's pretty much our trip. Alice will continue on to other destinations, but we're headed home. Both Ireland and Scotland were great, but I'm also really looking forward to vehicles being on the side of the road I'm accustomed to.

Everything's Closed

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Fri, 03 Apr 2015 06:37:00 +0000

The cab driver was sort of wrong!

Mostly still right though.

Our day started with a walk toward the city center, and here I should point out that Marina and Alice put a lot more faith in my Cub Scout-level sense of orienteering than they probably should. Happily, there are a bunch of signs indicating where the city center is, so we figured we'd walk that way and hope that we ran into something. Tomorrow's an early day, and we'd been hearing that everything will be closed, so we figured it'd be a relatively early night.

Happily, we eventually ran into the Trinity College gym! Which was not terribly exciting. But which was connected to the rest of Trinity College, which seemed to fit our goal of something that was both interesting to walk around and, more importantly, actually open. After some brief consideration of joining a walking tour (which we decided against in favor of standing within earshot of one for a few minutes), it occurred to us to check out the Library and the Book of Kells, because that seemed the sort of thing we were supposed to do as tourists.

Unfortunately, mostly every other thing was closed, so the closest we got to experiencing the majesty and beauty of the Library was in seeing the majesty of the line from across the courtyard. And that's sort of fine.

After a quick lunch, we did something that I'd been resisting. I know that earlier in this series, I'd mentioned that I've been trying to get over my aversion to being a super obvious tourist despite clearly being a tourist, but I'd resisted the hop-on/hop-off buses. Until now. Marina and Alice argued successfully for it (reasoning that among the things that were open, most closed early for Good Friday, so it made sense in terms of seeing things quickly and as a means of transport).

Cliche of riding around on a giant bus and staring at things aside, it actually served its purpose. If nothing else, it was a quick and easy background of a few of the locations we'd intended to swing by later in the day, along with constant reminders that everything was closed and that it was odd to stop at Guinness and Jameson and have no one get on or off the bus. Still, covered more ground than we'd have been able to on foot, even if we wound up more or less back where we started.

We walked around the things that were open by virtue of being impossible to close (the exterior of Dublin Castle and Christchurch Cathedral), through what I understand is a very subdued version of the Temple Bar area and into a bunch of touristy shops (one of which we learned was open until 9, so we'd head back there for late-night-for-Good-Friday-I-Guess souvenir shopping after dinner).

We actually wound up staying out a bit later than expected. Before heading back to our hotel, we stopped in at a grocery store to find some water, some prawn flavored snacks and, behind the counter and unavailable to buy today because of the alcohol ban, the bottle of Talisker that we'd lost at the airport! Success! We'll have to revisit tomorrow after getting back from the other side of the island.

We headed home, with Marina and Alice again trusting that I knew where I was going. Surprisingly, I actually did (allowing for a short detour the long way around St. Stephen's Green.) Dublin is really, really walkable, and walking home allowed a lot of opportunities for getting to hear what appears to be some sounds from Space Invaders, which apparently is used for the "It's safe to cross now" sound at pedestrian crossings. I'm a fan.

The hotel bar is actually packed, as apparently hotel bars are exempted from the alcohol sales prohibition, so everyone who's staying here is currently down there.

For us though, it's late and tomorrow, we've got to be up at 5:30 to make it to the bus that will take us to Galway and the Cliffs of Moher.

And Turn Her Down the Rocky Road

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Fri, 03 Apr 2015 01:32:00 +0000

Having left Talisker, the road out from Skye was significantly easier and quicker. Part of that is getting used to driving a car that's much nicer than what I drive at home on narrow roads on the other side while lumber trucks trundle along. Part of that was Alice and Marina's Co-Driving experience using our finely tuned "How's my left? How's my left?" system, which I really think is probably basically what happens during actual rallies. Part of that its that for the first time since we got to Scotland, it's actually nice out. And part of that is that we have a flight to catch.

We made good time getting off the islands and were able to stop a few times along the way. There are a bunch of little pull-off points on the way back, I assume expressly for the purpose of getting cleanly off the road while you gape at the majesty of the place. We swung by the Eileen Donan Castle, where a surprisingly large number of people were eating lunch in the parking lot and we made it to Fort William, where we stopped for lunch.

Potatoes, and because I'm a ridiculous tourist and this was our last meal in Scotland, I went with the haggis, which is fine. It's like sausage. I enjoyed it, but I don't know where this "This food is strange and alien" pearl-clutching attitude comes from. Or, rather, I don't know how to square the "but it's innards" attitude with the fact that hot dogs exist and are sold widely. Everyone calm down.

The rest of the drive was relatively uneventful. We went back past Loch Lomond, where we encountered traffic (due to a ridiculous lumber truck that was too wide for the road) and made it back to Alice's dorm.

Here's the issue. It was around 7. Flight's at 8:45, but Alice is going to run around Europe for a bit after this, so she needed to pack. I returned the car on my own (completely without the How's my Left? system to which I'd become accustomed) and ran back to Alice's dorm. Marina and Alice were finishing packing, and early on in the process, we'd decided to try to check one of our bags for the flight to Dublin, so that we could bring all the things we bought.

We flagged down a cab, had to stop by the car rental place to check on something because I'm a paranoid idiot, and headed off to the airport, arriving at about 8:20. Way, way later than we'd intended.

Baggage check in was closed.

We went through security, which was speedy and efficient, but we couldn't check our bag. Which had a bottle of whisky in it.

I want to say that the security guys were reasonable. They had to confiscate it, but told us we'd be able to pick it up (or have someone pick it up) for a £20/day storage fee.

And I don't know. We were upset about it. I don't know why we were upset. But we were.

It's not like it's the money, really. It was an expensive bottle, one that I wouldn't normally have allowed myself to buy, but attempts to save it would have probably been more expensive than the effort was worth (that is, pay for one of Alice's friends to take a cab to the airport, pick it up, and take it back). It's not that. It's that we'd just done this thing that a few days ago had seemed like it might not be possible. We'd made it to Skye, through the mountains and the hail and the unfamiliar driving and we had done it even though we could have gotten a tour bus to do this for us. We'd rushed to get back, and it was tight but seemed so doable. And avoidable; the decision to bring it at all was a last-minute one based on a very rosy idea of how long it'd take to get to the airport.

It's silly. The bottle we'd bought was available at Binny's (though it was a cut that you'd have to ask them to order, but still, available). And it's not like we even drink, really. But for some reason, after the stress of the drive and the rush to the airport, it stung. It wasn't about the object; that's silly. And I'm aware that this sounds really, really dumb and that of all the things to possibly worry about or be disappointed by, this is way, way far down on even the most banal list of things-that-you-absolutely-shouldn't-worry about. It was a souvenir. It doesn't show up on any sort of hierarchy of actual needs I'm aware of, and of all the problems to have while traveling, I'd pick this one every time.

We got through security, we went to the gate and asked if there were anything they could do, but no. So we boarded the plane, we flew to Dublin, and we got off toward the line of taxis.

We found one, and it was great to be both on the left side of the road and not to be the one driving. We mentioned where we were headed, and the cab driver seemed astonished that we'd chosen to fly into Dublin.

"Tomorrow's Good Friday. Everything will be closed."

That hadn't even occurred to me, and so the first thing that we encountered upon landing in Ireland is that, as the one Catholic member of our merry band, I'd failed to foresee that.

Oh well, we're in Dublin and will see whether the cab driver was right about everything being closed tomorrow.

Hunt the Hare

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Fri, 03 Apr 2015 01:31:00 +0000

So, a bunch of things happened. In the end, we're safe in Dublin, though it got a little close and emotional at the end. But let's start in the morning.

We woke up at around 8 and started getting ready for breakfast. Historically, when we've been staying somewhere that includes breakfast (which for the most part means toast and coffee and surly co-inhabitants of the inn), getting down to breakfast is not even sort of a priority. Here, we were in a legit B&B with a lovely innkeeper who we'd already sort of angered by showing up past check in (which is totally reasonable; she was very, very forgiving, and we were lucky in that aspect as the other option would have been to just not let us stay). She was cooking breakfast and she'd mentioned 8:30, so damn it, we were going to be downstairs at 8:30.

So, things that are different about this from our usual lodging experience: Home cooked meal in an adorable little dining room filled with home-made jams and marmalades.

Things that are the same: surly co-tenants.

Everyone just sort of kept to themselves, which is absolutely fine by me. I have never been one for talking to strangers while eating eggs, and I'm cool with having that be what happened.

We mentioned our plans to the innkeeper: head up to Dunvegan Castle (the ancestral home of the MacLeods, meaning mostly that if I were going to make a Highlander joke, I should have done it here), then head down to Glasgow to make our flight at 8:45pm. We'd have to miss going to a series of waterfalls called the Fairy Pools, but the map we had actually showed where the castle was and ignored the pools, so that's what we planned on.

The innkeeper disagreed, and I think I should note that her sentiment seemed in line with most of the other Scottish Tourism folks we talked to.

Unless we were MacLeods, she suggested, the castle's a castle. Do the Fairy Pools instead.

I like that people who are directly involved with Scottish Tourism and recommending things for wayward tourists are just very done with castles. I hope, at one point, that I'll be able to return the favor; I'll get someone walking up to me and asking me my opinion for where to go, and offering up a suggestion of what the Travel Book suggested and I'll get to say "You know what? Navy Pier's fine and all, but do something else."

We took her suggestion (and a map she made, which had all of the points of interest we wanted to see on it) and headed south to the Fairy Pools.

Another dinner-table-width road, but to be honest I'm getting kind of used to those, and this one was only four miles. And I think we were unprepared. We pulled into the parking lot and headed down a dirt path.

Well, mud path. It's been raining for days.

And again, I'm not a good enough writer (or photographer) to really explain the scenery. It's waterfalls and mountains and streams and a few little rock-bridges and you should go there.

It was absolutely gorgeous. Our shoes did not agree. We underestimated the amount of hiking required, and so my sneakers are in dire-but-stable condition at the moment. Marina's boots were pretty well coated (though more easily cleanable). So, we decided, let's stop at the nearest place where there's probably a restroom to clean up before we start our trip south.

And because we're in a magical wonderland filled with merriment, the closest place that we knew fit that description and was open to the public was the Talisker Distillery, the only whisky distillery on the island.

Side note: when we were delayed by the hail and the snow, there were a few things we were each a little sad about not getting to get to do or see. Marina was a little sad because if we flipped over into a ditch, we probably wouldn't get to buy some local-dyed yarn. Alice was sad because she'd been looking forward to the Fairy Pools (though until this morning we didn't have much of an idea of how to get to them). And I was sad because I'd gone to Scotland and was going to be leaving without going to a distillery.

But we'd bought yarn in Portree. We'd managed time for the Fairy Pools by cutting out the just-another-castle. And now we were going to Talisker! Everybody wins.

The next tour wasn't for a few hours, but we were able to walk around a bit, and there's a bit of an exhibition on how they do things in the visitor's center, so that was nice. And then, Alice and Marina convinced me to buy a bottle of Talisker to take home as a gift, but that we should really get going. So we did, we made plans to open it once Alice returned to Chicago in a few months, and were on our way.

Road to Skye: Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Thu, 02 Apr 2015 04:13:00 +0000

It's a new day, and we're doing much better than last night. We stopped in for coffee at Costa and headed off to the Tourist Information Center, where we met a very nice woman who had never been where we're going and had no advice for how to get there. We'd heard there was a smoother, flatter road that went to a ferry in Mallaig, but the ticket website appeared to indicate that the early morning ferry was sold out, and that the first available ferry would be at 4pm.

That's fine. Skye's roads aren't going to be any better, so I might as well get used to it. Part of the issue is that the car we were driving is significantly wider than the car I normally drive, so I don't really have a good sense of how far to the left my car goes. Also, the roads are generally pretty narrow, and there are huge lumber trucks that come flying down them as close to the far right of their lane as possible.

So we worked out a system. Marina and Alice served as both navigators (in the sense of watching where the GPS was demanding we go) and an externalization of my sense of where the left of the car was. This was accomplished through the following exchange whenever a truck went flying by.

Ryan (panicked): "How's my left? How's my left?"

Marina and Alice: "It's fine. Still fine."

Repeat for every truck.

We headed off into the highlands, passing Glenfinnan, which had amazing views and also the bridge from Harry Potter (the Glenfinnan Viaduct, if you're into the proper names for things), which everyone was excited about. There's also a monument across the road topped with a statue of an anonymous Highlander, though to be honest I was too worried about my left, even when stopped, to learn more about that until later.

By "anonymous Highlander", I'm going to allow myself to make the obvious and overdone joke.
It's Christopher Lambert.

I should note that now that we were a little more confident in driving, the Highlands are just ridiculously gorgeous. These are almost certainly both the largest mountains I've seen to date and the closest I've interacted with them.

We drove along, following the GPS, noting that the roads aren't really that bad. And then the GPS had a big straight line.

It had taken us to Mallaig, to get on the ferry.

That's total drive time if you go from Fort William to Portree by going an hour out of the way first.

This is why we shouldn't rely on the GPS.

To be fair to Garmin, it's not like it's a bad assumption. There are usually ferries every half hour, and Mallaig is closer than driving up to Invergarry and turning to go through Kyle of Lochalsh and the Skye Bridge. But they only do that on the Summer Schedule, which starts Friday. When we'll be in Dublin.

Nothing to do but turn around, head to Fort William, and continue up through the more dangerous course. We were still able to use the GPS by putting in much smaller sections of highway (so, rather than Fort William to Portree, we entered Fort William to Invergarry, then Invergarry to Kyle of Lochalsh, then across to Kyleakin, because not doing so resulted in the GPS screaming at us to turn around and get on the ferry that wasn't running).

We actually made much better time going back. The roads were starting to feel like the Western Pennsylvania roads I grew up driving on. Aside from the "drive on the left" thing, it felt more familiar.

We managed to make it to Kyleakin, which apparently has otters. Or, at least, statues of otters and emblems of otters. So some connection to the otter.

See? I would not lie to you about otters.

The occupant of the ever-present Tourist Information Center advised that our plan to go up to Portree and then around the island to get to our accommodations in Dunvegan on the other side was fine, and agreed that driving on the side you're not used to is confusing. He also recommended that we drive out onto the Trotternish peninsula to get a look at a few of the sights, and then cut across the road that runs across the middle.

We drove up to Portree, bought some yarn, got dinner and continued on.

In the next post, adventures around the Trotternish Peninsula, and finally making it to Dunvegan.

Trotternish

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Wed, 01 Apr 2015 15:05:00 +0000

I should, I guess, discuss the geography of what we're doing here. Skye is sort of like a big hand/claw sort of thing, with our point of entry being near the wrist, where the Skye Bridge connects it to the rest of Scotland. Off of the palm, there are a number of little peninsulas, with roads looping out to encircle them. There's a large-ish (in the sense that it was largely two-or-so lanes) road that connects most of the towns and much, much smaller roads that head off in other directions.

When we last left off, we were driving into Portree (going around the palm counter-clockwise), and I cannot overstate how exciting it was to be at something that's sort of like a destination. The roads in Portree were small, but for once, there were buildings and curbs to the far side of my car that I was so worried about, and not cliffs and rocks and the sea.

We managed to make it to a parking lot (A lot! Full of other cars! That weren't going ninety miles an hour on the side I don't expect them to be on!), learned that parking was free because we were still in the off season (as indicated by the ferry that didn't exist) and proceeded to tourist the hell out of the local shops.

What followed was a flurry of commemorative magnets (of the bridge that got us onto Skye, which for us had gone from "fun side-trip" to "mystical promised land" after the realities of trying to drive several hours in a strange country set in) and skeins of yarn (dyed nearby, and potentially made from some of the sheep that I'd learned to dodge, though no one would guarantee that) and langoustines, which I really think that if you're going to serve, "Norway Lobsters" is a more exciting name than "langoustines".

We had been advised to check out the western side of the Trotternish Peninsula, then circle back down, cutting across the road that bisected the landmass and continue on to Dunvegan, where we were staying. So we did that.

And I can't actually describe what it looked like. I thought about trying, and a better writer (or even someone who wrote about travel more than once every four years) could do it, but I can't.

It was silly. Let's go with that.

We were able to get out of the car in a few designated pull off spaces (which were every few hundred yards, because whoever made this tiny road realized that a bunch of tourists are going to do exactly that). Past the Old Man of Storr, stopping at the Lealt Gorge (where we may have gotten paranoid about some other tourists seemingly hanging out next to our car a little too much as we were out looking at things) and up through to Kilt Rock, which had the actual rock, a few big signs about a dinosaur they'd found near the rock and a Scottish Terrier because apparently we were in a tourism ad.

The Lealt Gorge. Just off to the right, people looking at the things in our car.

We're staying at a B&B, so after leaving Kilt Rock we thought it would be best to get to Dunvegan before it was too late, in part so that we were able to check in, and in part because while the 1.5 lanes of road were fine in the daylight, we were very nervous about driving around in the dark. So we took the advice of the tourism guy from Kyleakin. We took the cross-peninsula road.

This was a bad idea.

As it turns out, the road across the peninsula is a less-than-one-lane road that's more of an asphalt hiking trail where there's really no point in having a turn if it isn't a hairpin. We were on the Quiraing, a flat-out gorgeous hillside that a friend who we'd consulted about the trip before going had hiked around and which was bounded on either side either by very steep drop-offs, sizeable ditches and just a lot of sheep. More sheep than I'm usually comfortable driving through.

Pictured: Terror

We made our way painfully slowly through the six miles of seriously narrower than most parking spaces terrain, looking up from time to time to take in the gorgeous views but for the most part terrified about what would happen if we hit a ditch, or that we'd continue to get lost and wind up on this dinner-table-width path in the dark. We made it, passing one other vehicle (a delivery truck for a brewery, which seemed to be doing fine), and wound up winding through a bunch of tiny mountainside roads that weren't on the map until we made it to the highway.

Well, "highway".

Unfortunately, it was late. We sped on to Dunvegan where we were greeted by our mildly-perturbed but really astonishingly pleasant considering we were showing up an hour after check-in B&B host, shown to our room and collapsed from the strain of actually having made it here alive.

I feel awful about showing up late, but we did it. We drove to Skye. And I didn't get us run over by a lumber truck. Or a swarm of sheep. Sheep travel in swarms, right?

Tomorrow, we get to do what took us two days in around six hours in order to not miss the flight to Dublin.

Road to Skye: Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Wed, 01 Apr 2015 04:10:00 +0000

I am writing this having survived the first half of our journey.

That's the most important part.

We picked up a car from Budget (which had some attendant confusion over how much they'd wanted to charge when we booked the car, versus how much they wanted to charge now that we were picking the car up) and were presented with a Mercedes-Benz A180 with the steering wheel on the right-hand side and very little instruction beyond that.

In the city, it actually wasn't too bad. It's a bit disorienting, but we were able to make it through more or less by driving infuriatingly slowly, following the cars in front of us and praising the miracles of the divided highway, which allowed me to pretend I was still on the side of the road that I've driven my entire life.

We managed to get to Stirling Castle, continuing our Castle Tour of Scotland and if I'm being honest, I think we had a better time there than in Edinburgh. The weather was much better, and the crowd was significantly smaller which helped. A short lunch at the castle-adjacent cafe and we were off into the Highlands.

Here's the thing about what we attempted. It's disorienting to drive on the left, with the car set up differently. It's disorienting to drive through the mountains. And it's disorienting to drive through hail.

So, yeah.

We took a small detour to Loch Lomond, but the weather had turned against us and we were unable to actually get out and appreciate it. Oh well, onward and upward.

It went reasonably ok for the most part, though I was driving roughly half the speed limit, infuriating well meaning Scottish drivers who just wanted to get on their way. Happily, they were able to pass and drive off like madmen. That's fine. It was all going well until a long stretch through the Ben Nevis range where we briefly skidded in what was now snow. No big deal, no damage, just a bit of a scare. By a bit of a scare, I mean we all sort of panicked for a while and I didn't know if I was going to be able to get us either to Skye or back to Glasgow. Maybe we'd just set up camp in the rental car and live on the mountain.

Once we got up the courage to keep going, we decided to take the hit on the B&B that we'd booked, and stopped in the next town we came to, which was Fort William.

Happily, there was room at the Travelodge and a nifty little seafood restaurant called the Crannog on the water, and a place to park the car where I didn't have to drive it anymore for the night.

Urgh. Onward to Skye in the morning, though I'm nervous about how we'll get back in time.

Scotland Trip: Edinburgh, Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Mon, 30 Mar 2015 02:19:00 +0000

Oh hey, it's time for Edinburgh. Edinbrurur. Brubururuh.

As it turns out, the bus system between Glasgow and Edinburgh is pretty straightforward and self-explanatory. Pay some money while still jet-lagged. Sit on a bus for an hour. Get off in a daze near a Tesco.

After going into the Tesco to stock up on provisions (which for the purposes of this trip meant ridiculous chocolate bars and variously flavored chips), we headed up to Edinburgh Castle to begin our day.

Here's the thing about historically important sites; they tend to be really inconvenient to get to. We went through this during the trip to Greece, where all of the really interesting pars are located on big steep hills made of marble. Edinburgh Castle is not on a hill made of marble, but it is on a really big hill and I'm convinced we took the steepest route to the top (evidenced later by our relatively easy hike up the Royal Mile).

Steepness aside, I presume the castle warded off invaders with awful weather and a really long, really slow moving line for admission. Admission lines are to be expected, but something about the outdoor nature of this one, followed by the outdoor nature of much of the castle, meant that by the time we got our tickets (and a touristy guidebook, because we've sort of stopped bothering with the pretense that we're not the most touristy tourists), the main goal was "find somewhere in this historical marvel where it's even sort of warm."

Which was good. We found a room with a model of the castle and a bunch of explanations of how historic everything was, but most critically, a small space heater. Happily, at this point we were able to look through the guidebook and found an entry on something called the "One O'Clock Gun", which is apparently a piece of artillery that's fired at 1pm.

I say happily, because it meant we were slightly less startled. Still pretty startled, but a little less. There was a crowd gathering around, while a man in uniform prepared the gun, then stepped back to look at a clock, then went back up to the gun with a pocket watch, then fired the gun. Which is really loud. Everyone standing around had no form of ear protection, and we took our cue from them without really considering that everyone here is a tourist who has no idea how loud this will be.

The answer is really loud.

We toured through the rest of the castle, encountering a choir in the Great Hall and walking through an exhibit about the Honours of Scotland (which was full of wax figures that were a little off-putting, but well enough put together as far as exhibits go) and headed off into town to find lunch.

Scotland Trip: Post 2

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Mon, 30 Mar 2015 02:14:00 +0000

I always think I'm going to be better at jet lag than I actually am.

"It's only a six hour shift", I'll tell myself. "Sure, it'll be like being up all night, but I've done that before as recently as, let's say, 2004 (which is coincidentally when I took quantum).

I was wrong.

We arrived in Glasgow after a trip on a plane that was relying on propellers to get us here, which I had not considered before and which I'd probably have been more irrationally afraid of if I'd been in any sort of condition to comprehend what was going on.

Thankfully, I was out of it enough that the 45 minute flight was over before I could worry about it too much.

We managed to check in and intended to meet up with my sister-in-law, who's been here for a few months now and will be our guide for Glasgow and Edinburgh. It was noon. The day was ahead of us, and the sky was bright.

And then it was like 3:30.

I'm still very tired, but we were able to eventually get up and head out with Alice and got a nice walking tour of the University of Glasgow, a revelation in that the subway was evidently shut down for Sunday, a pleasant cab ride to the Glasgow Necropolis (which we'd even have been able to visit if we hadn't slept until it closed) and a bunch of walking through a shopping district, before making our way back to Ox and Finch (where we had a bunch of small plates, and also some fries) and back to the hotel in preparation for Edinburgh.

2015 Murphspot Mascot Bracket: Finale

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Sun, 29 Mar 2015 07:13:00 +0000

How devoted am I to the completion of the Mascot Bracket? This special edition of the final matches is being posted from some sort of odd basement gate at Dublin International on a tablet, which Blogger seems to be struggling with. Updates to clean up the format will be completed soon. But the bracket must go on.

#13 Valparaiso Crusaders vs. #7 Wichita State Shockers

Considering that the Crusaders advanced to this point via clumsily thrown shield, I'm not entirely confident in their prospects. The thing is, for the most part, the shield is what the Crusader seems to rely on in terms of hand weapons. That works if he's Captain America. He is not Captain America.

His opponent, in the mean time, has acquired the ability to control plant life in the time since this bracket started. One could suggest that he's going to win by some sort of Wheat Sorcery, as he has so far, but I don't think that's the case here.

Not a lot of people know this, but WuShock was the sixth of the Istari sent by the Valar to help stop Sauron. He's like Radagast, but wheatier.

Instead, one imagines that WuShock's attunement with crops would allow him to go after the Crusader's ability to feed himself and his comrades. The Crusader puts up a valiant effort, but in the end his reliance on grain products is his downfall. Mascot battle burns a lot of calories, and he won't be able to keep fighting for long.

Wichita State advances.

#9 Oklahoma State Cowboys vs #6 Xavier Musketeers

I see Pistol Pete as being pretty practical. He's wearing clothing appropriate to his setting, including a giant orange hat which not only shields him from the sun, but also allows other members of the Pistol Pete Contingent to easily locate him so that they don't wind up hitting his giant head while in the middle of the Rite of the Revolver.

The Musketeer is certainly jolly, but I think that at this point, he's going to be a bit too reliant on ceremony to succeed here. The Mascot Bracket is a fight in a gutter, and Pistol Pete's Neckerchief seems more suited to the environment than D'Artagnan the Musketeer's pillowy sleeves.

Oklahoma State advances.

#12 Wyoming Cowboys vs. #2 Virginia Cavaliers

Wyoming's Pistol Pete follows the general trend of cowboy-appropriate attire in conjunction with a carefree attitude, a giant improbable chin and a mustache like he's on the 1970's Oakland A's. There's a lot to support there and now that I've had to look back and forth between the myriad Pistol Petes in the tournament, Wyoming Pistol Pete has grown on me.

CavMan, on the other hand, varies between a doorknocker goatee and a Van Dyke based on the design of the character of the time. He's certainly got more military training than Pistol Pete, but I think his reliance on the sabre might be his downfall. While he's working out which crossbeam he can attach a rope to in order to dramatically swing in, Pistol Pete is at the ready with a six-shooter. It's the sort of "finesse vs. practicality" that I think we settled when Harrison Ford was ill that one time.

Wyoming advances.

#9 St. John's Red Storm vs. #14 UAB Blazers

St. John's has been skating along pretty well mostly on the novelty of their mascot/name. That's all well and good, though I do think that in electing to hire Johnny Thunderbird as their mascot, they may have missed out on a licensing opportunity with Marvel.

Actually, now that I write that, it seems like UAB could have done the same sort of licensing deal by appending "Johnny" (though through a less straightforward rationale than St. John's is employing), but if it results in an awful movie about the Human Torch fighting Ghost Rider, I'm sort of down.

But that's not the world we live in. We live in the world of Johnny Thunderbird, whose tenacity I'm not really doubting, but who is, in the end, a bird. I just honestly can't see how to have a bird, even as one as interested in his car's sound system as Johnny Thunderbird, winning over a dragon.

UAB advances.

#7 Wichita State Shockers vs. #9 Oklahoma State Cowboys

WuShock has already defeated part of the Pistol Pete Triumvirate in combat, and I assume has absorbed his essence.

Oh, also, new rule for 2015, the basic principles of Highlander can be instituted pretty much at will. Sword combat, the Quickening, Sean Connery playing a Spaniard, the whole thing.

WuShock has probably absorbed a soul or two in his day.

So, given that, it seems as though WuShock would probably have learned enough from his victory over NMSU's Pistol Pete to thwart the OSU Pistol Pete. I'm a little sad to report that this won't end in a Pistol Pete-off, which I imagine would have been mostly about mustaches and bandoliers and whether or not Clint Eastwood's character in the "Man with No Name" trilogy was simply another incarnation of the Eternal Pete.

Wichita State advances.

#13 Wyoming Cowboys vs. #14 UAB Blazers

Things continue to look bleak for our Pete heroes. It's not impossible, here, that the Wyoming Pete could eke out a victory. He's overcome a few obstacles so far, and I refuse to count out anyone with a chin that mighty. And hey, maybe the "Blazers" name doesn't actually refer to the dragon itself. Maybe this is a fight between the Final Pete and a sports jacket.

But even then, it's not looking good. Wyoming Pete's sense of fashion will not be compromised, which is why he's no longer invited to formal-attire occasions. Sure, he misses out on some fine catering, but relinquishing his vest, his chaps and his big goofy hat would compromise who he is as a person.

In the end, whether he's fighting a garment or a dragon wearing the garment, there's no path forward for Pete. He yields, either to his determination to keep pulling off the cowboy look come hell or high water, or because Blaze breathes fire. One of the two.

UAB advances, and The Pistols Pete will have to try again in 2016.

#9 Wichita State Shockers vs. #14 UAB Blazers

And here we are. Dragon vs. Grain Elemental. And, I believe, two former Champions of the Murphspot Mascot Bracket. So, we don't have the pesky specter of "things that actually exist" hanging over our heads.

Over the last several years, and particularly in this bracket, WuShock has been built into some sort of Agricultural Menace, lording his power over both the flora he counts as subjects and over a bunch of well meaning Pistols Pete.

I struggled with the outcome of this final Mascot Fight. Not only because this will be the first time in Mascot Bracket history (which I've apparently been doing since 2008) that a former victor reclaims the title, but because I'm hesitant to establish precedent that one of these mascots may become too powerful to be beaten in future brackets, unless some other school responds with a thresher or St. George, respectively.

In the end, though, the decision was clear. WuShock fought valiantly, along with his comrades (who I assume include sorghum, oats, barley and Ghostface Killah) but even his previous tactic of denying sustenance is unlikely to work here. I'm not sure that all dragons are carnivores, but Blaze certainly gives off that vibe. Also, I'm pretty sure wheat is flammable.

Blaze is victorious. The Bracket is at an End.

Your 2015 Murphspot Mascot Bracket Champions

UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA AT BIRMINGHAM BLAZERS

Scotland Trip: Post 1

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Sun, 29 Mar 2015 05:30:00 +0000

I have no idea how we're going to be awake at all this week.

It's currently around 12:30am as far as I'm concerned, but because Dublin is apparently closer than I thought it was, we're roughly an hour away from it being 7:30 in the morning and being corralled off of this plane. My position has long been that I hate long flights, but this whole "leave at 7pm, have the cabin lights dim for roughly an hour, and suddenly it's early morning and you haven't slept" seems like it might take some getting used to.

But hey, it's about time to be tired and trying to figure out the inner workings of the airport in Dublin so that we can get on another plane.

On the plus side, apparently the babies on Chicago to Dublin flights are remarkably well behaved. So we've got that going for us.

Murphspot Mascot Bracket 2015: Sweet Sixteen

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Thu, 26 Mar 2015 06:49:00 +0000

#9 Purdue Boilermakers vs. #13 Valparaiso Crusaders

I'm a little sad the Crusaders' mascot appears to be named "The Crusader" rather than something more forceful. Maybe "Crusader Henry" after the founder of the school. Or "Crusader Jonathan" after Indiana's first Governor. Or, because all names tend toward it, "Crusader Pete".

The face of courage. Or hunger? I don't know. Something, probably, but it's underneath a helmet.
Let's go with "mild irritation."

So in the battle between Purdue Pete and Crusader Pete, I'm a little hesitant to go with the "One was from an era before rail transport, and so would have no idea how to stop the Boilermaker Special" rationale again. If anything, I could see The Crusader valiantly charging at the train like Don Quixote toward a windmill, heaving his shield at it and accidentally causing a terrible derailment. I think the Crusader wins not by brute force or by ingenuity, but by sheer luck.

Valparaiso advances.

#3 Notre Dame Fighting Irish vs. #7 Wichita State Shockers

Oh hey, a game that's actually happening and that I'll get a post up about before it actually happens.

So we've got two magical creatures here. The Leprechaun, one assumes, has the power of guarding some gold and appearing in a series of increasingly ridiculous horror movies, mostly direct-to-video, which I guess had the benefit of keeping Warwick Davis employed through the 90's.

I don't even want to know if this makes sense in context.

The other is a Grain Being of immense potential, who uses his vaguely defined Grain Abilities to protect, I guess, the concept of agriculture. Maybe fields in general, regardless of their connection to agriculture. He's like Swamp Thing, if Swamp Thing were from the opposite of a swamp.

I'm not sure Wheat Thing has the level of gravitas of Swamp Thing, mostly because it sounds like a snack chip.

Based on those descriptions, I've got to go with WuShock, if only for the faint hope that maybe Alan Moore will write a series about him.

Wichita State advances.

#9 Oklahoma State Cowboys vs. #4 North Carolina Tar Heels

I never quite know what to do with team names that not only existed, but did so contemporaneously. Leaving aside the giant Ram Man for a second, North Carolina's connection to the naval industry (which is why the tar, apparently) had as important a role to play in the story of the nation in which a man can write a silly blog about basketball mascots as cowboys, though the latter get more press.

Also, madness. They're very influential madness lobbyists.

I presume this is the result of pressure from the Pistol Pete Coalition, an organization that works for increased coverage of Westerns and big, wide-brimmed hats.

The Tar Heels are tenacious, but the Cowboys resourceful and mustachioed. I'm afraid I'm drawn in again by the craftiness of the Orange Pete.

Oklahoma State advances.

#6 Xavier Musketeers vs. #15 Texas Southern Tigers

Xavier usually does pretty well in the bracket, taking the Championship a few years back (which I imagine was celebrated throughout the Greater Cincinnati area). Here, though, I'm not so sure.

Musketeers definitely have a strategic and an armament advantage, but their experience was mostly used against the foes of the Ancien Régime. I'm not sure the Musketeers, who are either based in Cincinnati or, let's say, Strasbourg, would have all that much experience planning for a tiger.

Though I should say, the Musketeer is a pretty strong contender for "Best Mascot Hat Plumage"

Obviously, tigers can be taken down by gunfire, but given the slow reload time on a musket and the challenge of firing that first shot well while a tiger is running after you (even one as genial as the Texas Southern tiger), I'm not sure the Musketeer makes the shot in the first place, and the rest is a whirlwind of claws and teeth and orange fur.

Texas Southern advances.

#8 North Carolina State Wolfpack vs. #12 Wyoming Cowboys

Mr. Wuf and associates greatest asset so far has been teamwork. While most schools have a type of animal, a sort of mythical figure or a variation on Pistol Pete, NC State's explicit invocation of the entire pack has been what has gotten them to the Sweet Mascot Sixteen. I presume Mr. Wuf to be their leader and representative.

The thing is that if there's one thing that Red Dead Redemption taught me, it's that occasionally cowboys are going to have to deal with some wolves going after the horses and non-player characters. Usually a whole bunch. And yes, sometimes they overwhelm everything and you have to ride off, abandoning whatever character you're supposed to be saving from the wolves, but in general, it's just not that much of an issue.

Pictured: A man with two guns who has decided his best option here is a Bowie knife.

Wyoming advances.

#11 Dayton Flyers vs. #2 Virginia Cavaliers

I know that Ohio's very excited about the whole "Birthplace of Aviation" thing, in that the Wright Brothers and a number of astronauts and I have been very forthright in my appreciation of the cartoon villain that is the Flyers mascot. Rudy Flyer has got the sort of feel of having just escaped from an inexplicable forgotten Beatles movie, where he uses his biplane to wreak havoc. Maybe that's what Rubber Soul was about.

Maybe he's the Narrator on Norwegian Wood?

CavMan, though, is crafty. Between the hat and the cape and the general swashbuckling nature, I wouldn't put "hiding in a bale of hay until the Flyer has to refuel, then running him through with a sabre" out of his reach. CavMan is the hero we need.

Virginia advances.

#9 St. John's Red Storm vs. #12 Stephen F. Austin Lumberjacks.

Lumberjacks, as far as I know, are hardworking, hardy individuals who take their jobs seriously. The SFA Lumberjack in particular also seems to wield an axe with a face on it, which is either a sentient being in its own right (in which case it should be feared) or he's some kind of lunatic who draws faces on his tools (in which case he should be feared).

If there's one thing I check for in the tools I use, it's that they're not distinctly angry.

The thing though is that I'm fairly certain there are some OSHA guidelines that would prevent working in severe weather conditions, and I think the Red Storm qualifies as that. I'm pretty certain the old mariner's saying is something along the lines of "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at noon in a forest, sailors acknowledge that there is no way to save you and start reading up on when you last updated your life insurance policy".

St. John's advances.

#14 UAB Blazers vs. #15 North Dakota State Bison

The Bison have been coasting through on two basic premises. First, they've had a significant size advantage on their opponents for both prior fights. Second, their mascot is named Thundar and I just really, really need that to be the stage name of a bassist in literally any sort of band. If this were a Mascot Name Bracket, Thundar would win the next three years in a row regardless of whether North Dakota State actually makes it to the tournament.

It's not, though, and Thundar's lost his size advantage. And now he's fighting a mythical creature that killed a well-meaning bear last round and, perhaps most impressively, voluntarily lives through humid Alabama summers where everything just feels heavy and it's hard to breathe and I feel like I need to put in the air conditioner despite the fact that it's like 40 degrees in Chicago right now.

One hopes the suit has a cooling system.

That was a tangent, but the point is that Blaze wins this one as well.

UAB advances.

Murphspot Mascot Bracket 2015: East/South Second Round

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Tue, 24 Mar 2015 08:51:00 +0000

#1 Villanova Wildcats vs. #8 North Carolina State Wolfpack

On their best day, wildcats are going to have a rough go of it, so long as we're sticking with standard definitions of wildcats. I suppose if we're talking about rally cars, Villanova might have a better shot here at least from a momentum standpoint. Or a "driven by people with no apparent regard for reasonable driving speeds" standpoint.

I'm not saying I need a series that combines the spice-using navigators of Dune with the Dukes of Hazzard. I'm saying society needs that.

As it stands, we have a small, blue eyed cat, confident in its recent victory, entering the arena with let's say a dozen wolves. Wolves in jaunty hats, sure, but wolves nonetheless.

North Carolina State advances.

#12 Wyoming Cowboys vs. #13 UC Irvine Anteaters

I really do want to continue to encourage the development and implementation of novel mascots in the Mascot Bracket. Sure, Peter the Anteater doesn't really have much in the way of offensive prowess considering that his opponent is again not an ant, but by stifling his progress here, we wind up contributing to the Mascot File Drawer problem, where we see decreased submissions of mascots that may not work out in a fight to the death, but can teach us something interesting about the Mascot Sciences.

Also, we need more mascots with Peter's pleasant disposition.

And that's all well and good, but this is a battle between "pretty long tongue" and "so identified with pistols that he's named after them". Yellow Pistol Pete is victorious.

Wyoming advances.

#11 Dayton Flyers vs. #3 Oklahoma Sooners

At its most basic, this is less a fight to the death and more a lesson in the timeline of personal transport. Sure, it took a while for the Dayton Flyers to work out the kinks in how to take a big, heavy, metal machine and have it soar through the air, carrying as many sweaty passengers and screaming babies as you can fit into the fuselage while allowing for enough space to the traditional rations of half a can of the soft drink of your choice, a tiny bag of pretzels and whatever movie of indeterminate quality has been out long enough that they'll allow you to watch it if you buy some headphones.

Conestoga wagons, on the other hand, are relatively slow and, in my extensive research consisting of late 80's educational games, constantly either being caulked to float across rivers or having their inhabitants come down with cholera.

Alternately, snakebites, because James would not listen about leaving the snake alone.

Dayton advances.

#7 Michigan State Spartans vs. #2 Virginia Cavaliers

I'll give the Spartans a point in the Discipline category. They're proficient in that, and potentially moreso than a generic Cavalier. Particularly CavMan, who approaches life with the sort of devil may care attitude that befits his facial hair and his penchant for fancy hats.

In terms of armament and strategy, though, I'm thinking I'll have to go with Virginia here. Not only would they have been able to learn from any lessons that the Spartans came up with and incorporated them with the next few thousand years of advances in strategic warfare, they're guys with guns going up against guys in apparently green leather armor whose chin is basically the broad side of a barn.

You know, I get the bracers as a fashion statement, but I don't know that they provide any competitive advantage here.

Virginia advances.

#16 Robert Morris Colonials vs. #9 St. John's Red Storm

I feel like the Colonials vs. the Red Storm is either some sort of Masque of the Red Death analog combined with the Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God sermon, or it's a reference to a particularly harsh weather event that forced a small band of colonists to carve CROATOAN into a tree and then go do something with their time that wasn't being battered by flying debris.

As much as I would like to help Robert Morris out here, but Johnny Thunderbird rides on as ever, top down and stereo blaring. He is a phantom in the night, and all the colony will be awoken by his tunes. Deprived of sleep, they can't hope to keep up with the Red Storm.

Also, he's probably got lightning powers? Let's go with that.

St. John's advances.

#12 Stephen F. Austin Lumberjacks vs. #13 Eastern Washington Eagles

So, in the last round, the Lumberjack was able to pretty easily dispatch with an hawk named Swoop.

I know what you're saying. This is an eagle named Swoop. It's totally different.

And sure. This bird of prey is pretty full of majesty, and is composed at least in part of concentrated Freedom. On the other hand, deforestation is still a thing, and I don't see this ending any better for this Swoop than the last. You can have all the majesty you want, but if your nest is gone and it's hard to hunt for food, times are tough.

The Lumberjack, you could reason with. The axe? No chance.

Stephen F. Austin advances.

#11 UCLA Bruins vs. #14 UAB Blazers

So, Joe Bruin has the advantage of his species being a real thing, and not being consigned to sword-and-sorcery style fantasy settings. That's actually non-negligible. As happy-go-lucky as Joe Bruin appears to be, he's still got the ability to call in actual bears.

Blaze is a dragon, which gives him a pretty heavy advantage if we can get over the "not actually an animal" hurdle. What we need is a way to directly compare the two.

Thankfully, we live in a world where you can just look that up on the internet, thanks to the magic of Youtube and Skyrim.

I'm going with that settling that.

UAB advances.

#7 Iowa Hawkeyes vs. #15 North Dakota State Bison

So, Herky's fine and all, and I presume he's got some sort of preternatural archery ability that allows him to hang out with superpowered aliens and men in powered armor.

Also, one of the more stylized masks that's come up so far.

But, despite that, we're dealing with one of the many toothy birds in this bracket and I think this simply comes down to size. Thundar isn't something that the Hawk is going to be able to pick up and carry off to tear him apart, and I think this is probably going to result in repeated assaults that Thundar weathers with grace.

Well, as much grace as someone named THUNDAR can muster.

North Dakota State advances.

Murphspot Mascot Bracket 2015 - Midwest/West Second Round

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Mon, 23 Mar 2015 08:33:00 +0000

#16 Hampton Pirates vs. #9 Purdue Boilermakers

I can't quite find an intended identity for the Hampton Pirate, but one presumes because of how he's dressed that he's intended as sort of a late 17th, early 18th century sort of pirate, probably sailing around the Caribbean with occasional detours up to the Chesapeake Bay to see how things are going at his alma mater.

Also, apparently in this version of invented history, he's not only the mascot for Hampton, but an alumnus. So that's fine.

The thing is that if we set the Hampton Pirate as early 18th century, he's still a bit too early for the development of the steam locomotive. Born a bit later, and he might have a shot at overpowering Purdue Pete and derailing the Boilermaker Special, but as it stands it seems like he'd not know which switch to throw and at best, wind up tossed from the train.

Also, he's got a steely-if-sort-of-confused gaze.

I'm sorry, Hampton Pirate. If it's any consolation, I've got no idea how to stop a train either.

Purdue advances.

#5 West Virginia Mountaineers vs. #13 Valparaiso Crusaders

At its core, this is a question about two opposing fighting styles. The Mountaineer is equipped with a rifle and a bearskin cape, which either indicates that he's good enough with the rifle that he managed to kill and skin a bear, or that he bought a cape from someone, which would give him points in the all important Bargaining Variable in our patented Murphspot Mascot Bracket Algorithm.

Also, an alarming amount of fringe.

The Crusader, on the other hand, while not as resourceful, is likely more diligent in pursuing his beliefs, which in this case apparently include making Brown and Gold work as a fashion statement.

At the end of the day, I think the Crusader's tenacity (as well as his plate armor) give him the edge.

Valparaiso advances.

#11 Texas Longhorns vs. #3 Notre Dame Fighting Irish

Having just set aside an argument over resourcefulness against passion towards achieving your goals, I can't help but think that this also comes down to question of attitudes.

I don't want to knock Bevo. He's certainly got the most impressive horns in the bracket, even if they do seem a little unwieldy. He looks rather frightening. The problem with going with a cow, though, is that cows are generally pretty docile. I mean, hell, the Texas Longhorn wikipedia page notes the breed as having an "innate gentle disposition". That's great. I, personally, really respect that and find an innate gentle disposition to be admirable.

The problem is that the Fighting Irish Leprechaun is constantly preparing to box and is armed with a club.

As much as I want to award the Longhorn for eating some grass and going about his life, I don't think he comes out of this one.

Notre Dame advances.

#7 Wichita State Shockers vs. #15 New Mexico State Aggies

The issue with sentient wheat is that I'm not really able to form a plan for how to defeat it. The NMSU Aggies could, I suppose, come up a way to introduce a rival crop that would compete with WuShock. Or maybe introduce some sort of harmful pest into WuShock's living quarters.

The problem is that the mascot isn't an agricultural student, though I think that would be awesome. It's Pistol Pete.

The Maroon one in this case, though the Pistol Petes (Pistols Pete?) are beginning to blur together.

Pistol Pete understands a few things very well. Pistols, for one, and moustaches for another. If this were a Burt Reynolds-off, it'd be Pistol Pete in a landslide, but I don't think he'll get to use that skill here.

I think he'll just shoot at WuShock.

But the bullet passes through the individual stalks. WuShock advances.

Panicked, Pistol Pete fires five more times. All of his bullets pass through WuShock, seemingly harmlessly.

The horror of his situation hits Pistol Pete at about the same time as a giant fist made of wheat.

Wichita State advances.

#16 Coastal Carolina Chanticleers vs. #9 Oklahoma State Cowboys

I speculated in Coastal Carolina's last matchup about some sort of terrible Rooster Magic available to the Chanticleer which might allow for some way for him to claw his way to victory. I wasn't quite sure where that came from, but I think, looking back into my notes, I was swayed by a bizarre Russo-Finnish film that appeared in an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and in which a rooster controlled the movement of the sun by not crowing.

Yes, I'm not quite sure either.

So that's a bit of a deep cut.

Here, though, I imagine that the Oklahoman Pistol Pete; the original, will have no trouble. Roosters are part of his life, I assume, as are communing with the Great Pistol Pete Consciousness and shooting varmints and such.

Oklahoma State advances.

#5 Arkansas Razorbacks vs. #4 North Carolina Tar Heels

So, while Tusk has tusks and, as was pointed out by a friend with a far superior blog that is well written, full of actual analysis and insight and that you should be reading (and isn't just a once yearly bit of nonsense like this), may have been involved with the downfall of Robert Baratheon, leading to the reign of our Glorious Defender, Joffrey.

Not many people know this, but when characters in A Song of Ice and Fire die, they're reincarnated in the distant past, in sequels no one wanted.

And I can see how feral hogs would be a problem for North Carolinians. They're dangerous, there's some agriculture they could mess up, and if they collectively decided to block Route 12 near Sealevel, they could effectively trap and endanger Outer Banks vacationers all the way up to Corolla, which I imagine would be sort of inconvenient.

On the other hand, residents of North Carolina (as well as Ramses) have access to the internet, and therefore have access to this big long advertisement for a hog trap. It seems like being armed with that would end this pretty quickly.

North Carolina advances.

#6 Xavier Musketeers vs. #14 Georgia State Panthers

On one hand, the Xavier Musketeers have the advantage of not only being armed, but probably having some actual hunting experience and should be able to pick a bright blue panther out of a wooded area.

On the other, they might make some sort of horrible mistake and wind up in a movie with Orlando Bloom and his most improbable neckwear to date.

Orlando, you've reached critical Orlando-ocity. It's time to settle it down a little.

The Panther's threatening at all, but I believe the hit he takes to his stealth capability by being the same electric blue color as the first car I drove when I was in high school is fatal.

Not a photo of the actual car, but I'm pretty sure they only made these things in electric blue and maroon.

Xavier advances.

#7 Virginia Commonwealth Rams vs. #15 Texas Southern Tigers

I like Rodney. Honestly, I do. He's got an offensive weapon in the horns, obviously, but more than that I'm concerned about his grin. That is the grin of a ram who is up to something.

The Mr. Burns hands probably aren't helping.

The problem, though, is that while I respect Rodney's Intimidating Grin of Madness, he's fighting a tiger. Sure, a grandfatherly tiger who seems content to just show up and throw some Werther's Originals at the kids, but a tiger nonetheless and I'm not sure "ram vs. tiger" ever ends with the ram victorious.

I'm sorry, Rodney.

Texas Southern advances.

Murphspot Mascot Bracket 2015: South Region

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Fri, 20 Mar 2015 07:26:00 +0000

#1 Duke Blue Devils vs. #16 Robert Morris Colonials

Basically two ways this could go, as every year. Either we acknowledge the whole Les Diables Bleus World War I Alpinist unit Duke is invoking and wind up in the "Which military force would win?" question that I'm pretty sure makes actual historians set fire to things, or we focus on the actual foam rubber mascots. If we go with the former, Duke wins through actual training (and not just being "people who lived in a colony). If the latter, it probably goes to RMU as the Blue Devil is more inexplicable than threatening, while the Colonial has the sort of jawline that I assume is formed explicitly so that he can bite through steel.

Additionally, that is a hell of a coat.

Also, I could be sort of a homer and go with the team from Pittsburgh (well, Moon, but you know what I mean). That might impact the integrity with which this bracket is viewed worldwide.

And I'm ok with that.

Robert Morris advances.

#8 San Diego State Aztecs vs. #9 St. John's Red Storm

Typically, the Aztecs do well in the Mascot Bracket, but I don't believe they've gone up against St. John's Red Storm before. In their favor, they've got actual weaponry and a pretty awesome helmet on their mascot.

But I don't feel like I can ignore the fact that the Red Storm sounds like the fighting force of a Silver Age comic book villain. Probably in a Captain America book.

Combine that with the fact that their mascot's name is Johnny Thunderbird and I can't help but give this to St. John's. Johnny Thunderbird sounds like the name of a guy who just drives around town with no particular goal in mind except that everyone within earshot should hear his sweet, sweet sound system blaring Whitesnake.

Yes, Johnny Thunderbird. Here you go again on your own. We get it.

St. John's advances.

#5 Utah Utes vs. #12 Stephen F. Austin Lumberjacks

I'm not going to go into the inevitable My Cousin Vinny tangent, except to say that I spent more time writing this bracket than I'd originally intended because I found it necessary to go watch the end of My Cousin Vinny.

The Lumberjacks are the reigning champions, mostly on the strength of their "dude in flannel with an axe" platform. Well, I say dude in flannel with an axe; I should specify that I'm assuming the SFA Lumberjack has some expertise in the field of Lumberjacking. Hell, I've been alternately a dude in flannel and a dude with an axe (though never at the same time, I don't think) and I'm certainly no threat, but I'm guessing the SFA Lumberjack is more confident that he won't manage to lop off a limb than I am.

If this were the mascot, I'd just retire the Bracket entirely.

Considering that the Utes are countering with a hawk named Swoop, I'm not sure this works out for them. At the very least, their opponent being someone whose job it is to knock down trees can't help for simple habitat displacement reasons. Also, he's got an axe.

Stephen F. Austin advances.

#4 Georgetown Hoyas vs. #13 Eastern Washington Eagles

This is the second entry in a row where one of the combatants being trotted out is a predatory bird named Swoop. I'm starting to genuinely get concerned that soon, all mascots will coalesce into a small few and we'll replace the fine art of being in a foam rubber costume while people play basketball with a Saturday Morning Cartoon about the adventures of Swoop and Pistol Pete.

He does have the disdainful gaze down pretty well.

Ignoring the Hoya Saxa thing for a second, and realizing that this doesn't help my image as some sort of anti-dog tyrant, Jack the Bulldog is likely pretty tenacious, but he's still a relatively small dog that I've got to think the eagle could at least try to pick up. I'm not sure if the spiked collar would act as a disincentive. Not enough of one anyway.

For some reason, wearing the hat and nothing else is a little unsettling.

Eastern Washington advances.

#6 Southern Methodist Mustangs vs. #11 UCLA Bruins

I've spent less time in the western part of the country than I'd like, but considering this is a Wild Horse vs. Roaming Bear fight, I'd like to imagine this is the culmination of a centuries long inter-species war. Maybe New Mexico serves as some manner of border country.

Despite Joe Bruin's general congenial sort of feel, he's still a half ton of claws and rage. It's hard to fight against that.

He's just so cheerful about the prospect of dismembering his opponents.

It's harder still when you're a Shetland Pony. I have nothing against Peruna, and I'm glad we live in the part of history where if you want a detailed history of the Shetland Ponies that have served as the Southern Methodist University mascot that exists. Which is great.

I just can't come up with a scenario in which Peruna is victorious here.

UCLA advances.

#3 Iowa State Cyclones vs. #14 UAB Blazers

Sy's fine and all, though "toothy cardinal" has been done elsewhere. He's got sort of a terrifying Cheshire Cat smile going on, but maybe he just really likes the weather patterns of Central Iowa.

Back away slowly or he'll start talking to you about his sweet home meteorology instrumentation.

UAB, on the other hand, is coming at this with a fire-breathing dragon named Blaze. That's basically all that matters here. There wouldn't be a whole lot Sy could do to counter than in any case, but certainly not as a songbird.

Someone go alert the Ghiscari.

This isn't even close.

UAB advances.

#7 Iowa Hawkeyes vs. #10 Davidson Wildcats

I honestly don't know what it is at this point with schools wanting to give teeth to birds. Is this some sort of genetic engineering initiative I was unaware of?

I've long held that wildcats, as non-descript cats that live in the woods but effectively the same size as a domesticated cat, just aren't all that threatening in a fight to the death. This isn't going to be any different.

Iowa advances.

#2 Gonzaga Bulldogs vs. #15 North Dakota State Bison

See, institutions of Buffalo, New York? You could totally pull off something like this.

Now, listen. I'm not going to sign off on Thundar the Bison's haircut. This is generally a pretty lighthearted Mascot Bracket, but I have standards that I will not violate. I will, however, sign off on basically anything named Thundar.

As for the actual battle, this is mostly just a weight-ratio sort of thing. There are reasons that in most standard combat sports, weight classes are a thing, but the Mascot Bracket cares not for such considerations. There isn't a handicapping system. There is no relief. There is only the arena.

Also, silly pictures and foam rubber. But mostly the arena.

North Dakota State advances.

Murphspot Mascot Bracket 2015: East Region

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Thu, 19 Mar 2015 07:44:00 +0000

#1 Villanova Wildcats vs. #16 Lafayette Leopards

We start this region of the bracket where the West left off, with differently sized cats. There isn't all that much interesting to say that doesn't break down to "Well, let's go with the larger cat, I guess" in most of these, but for some reason both Villanova's Will D. Cat and Lafayette's The Leopard have really intensely colored eyes.

Will D. Cat, as discussed in previous years, is clearly the Kwisatz Haderach, though I've got doubts about the Greater Philadelphia Metropolitan Area's spice reserves. Also, he might anger Sting.

I'm actually a little more frightened of angering Sting's hair.

The Leopard's got some manner of bright red eyes of rage thing going on, but even with the size advantage, Will D. Cat's eyes freak me out more and make me want to not anger him so early on in the bracket.

Villanova advances.

#8 North Carolina State Wolfpack vs. #9 Louisiana State Tigers

I realize that just in my last post, I deducted points for a silly hat. In my defense, and in keeping with the integrity of the current state of mascot hat analysis, Wilbur's floppy Stetson was trying for something and not quite achieving it. Mr. Wuf's sailor hat isn't trying to be something it isn't. It knows its limitations. It simply is.

I sort of feel as though they want to go antiquing. Which I'm fine with.

I like Mike the Tiger. I've walked by Mike's habitat (though that would have been the previous Incarnation of Mike), and he's, from what I can tell, a very capable tiger.

If this were a single wolf on tiger fight, it'd be Mike without a doubt. Against a wolfpack, though, I imagine this turns out like the Dawn of the Dead remake, and Mike to his opponent simply because there are too many to fight.

North Carolina State advances.

#5 Northern Iowa Panthers vs. #12 Wyoming Cowboys.

You know what? I give up.

Everyone has Pistol Pete as their mascot, and I'm starting to think Pistol Pete is the Borg. Soon, the Pistol Pete Cube will find us, assimilate us into its collective, and then we'll all be Pistol Pete.

I don't know if it's worth it to resist. Maybe I should embrace the moustache. Maybe Pistol Pete has been with all of us all along.

Maybe Pistol Pete guards the secret to happiness. Maybe Pistol Pete is serenity.

Regardless, I can't come up with a way to have the Panthers advance. Pistol Pete is victorious. Pistol Pete is life.

Pistol Pete.

Wyoming advances.

#4 Louisville Cardinals vs. #13 UC Irvine Anteaters

I mean, for a cardinal, Cardinal Bird is pretty frightening. A cardinal took up residence outside one of the windows in my apartment last year apparently because he liked to mock the cat, but if he'd had human-shaped teeth in his beak I'd have quietly packed up everything I owned, gotten in my car and driven until there were no more roads.

Still not as frightening as Adam Wainwright.

As far as I know, anteaters don't pose that much danger to things that aren't ants. And to preserve the sanctity of the Mascot Bracket, it might be that Peter the Anteater can't come out of this victorious.

On the other hand, this is the sort of thing we like to encourage here at the Mascot Bracket. We live for the Anteaters of the tournament. For the mascots that thankfully aren't the most popular choices in mascotdom (Bears, Cats and Pistol Pete, evidently). Having seen Peter the Anteater in action, I'm going to trust to his guile. It seems cruel to limit him to eating ants.

Peter the Anteater's resourcefulness beats out Cardinal Bird's terror.

UC Irvine advances.

#6 Providence Friars vs. #11 Dayton Flyers

Leaving aside the Friars/Flyers linguistic note for a second, I'd like to remind everyone that Friar Dom is in your closet while you sleep and is just waiting for an opportunity to devour your soul with his unblinking Friar Stare.

There is no escape.

That said, the Friar's main method of attack seem to be charity, humility and studiousness, while the Flyers have got at least some capacity for an aerial assault.

Dayton advances.

#3 Oklahoma Sooners vs. #14 Albany Great Danes

This doesn't seem like a fight. This seems like the beginning of a credit sequence about a man, his dog, and the Indian Appropriations Act of 1889. Maybe with Nick Offerman guest starring as President Grover Cleveland.

I'd like an HBO documentary about President Cleveland's bow ties.

If we're talking about an actual fight between Boomer and Sooner and Damien the Great Dane, it'll be close. Despite being Welsh Ponies, I'd have to assume that Boomer and Sooner can probably kick pretty hard. Damien's probably quicker on his feet and has the agility to deal with a pair of ponies, but then I'm sitting here trying to imagine a dog and pony fight and the whole enterprise is just sort of bizarre.

I'm going with the one that has the steel on its feet.

Oklahoma advances.

#7 Michigan State Spartans vs. #10 Georgia Bulldogs

Again, I don't hate dogs. I swear I don't. I even like Uga as a dog in particular. He seems pleasant, and if I recall showed up in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, so there's the additional factor of a literary CV.

And I wish I could give this one to him. But no matter how many millennia of advances in military technology the Spartans don't have access to, he's still got a sword and he's fighting a domesticated dog.

I'm going to continue to just pretend the Spartan mascot is actually McNulty in a toga.

I feel bad about it, but there's no way around the result here.

Michigan State advances.

#2 Virginia Cavaliers vs. #15 Belmont Bruins

Bears for the most part do relatively well in the Mascot Bracket, in part because I have no idea how I'd react to coming across a brown bear in the wild. Even one as seemingly genial as Bruiser would probably immediately destroy me, and then Werner Herzog would narrate something about the fleeting nature of life. Or chickens.

Is that video entirely unrelated? Sure. But now you've seen it, and your life has been improved. Also, this Mascot Bracket might be a chicken.

But I'm not CavMan. I certainly don't have CavMan's hat, nor his ability to, I assume, swing in like Errol Flynn and eviscerate his enemies.

Virginia advances.

Murphspot Mascot Bracket 2015: West Region

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Wed, 18 Mar 2015 07:22:00 +0000

#1 Wisconsin Badgers vs. #16 Coastal Carolina Chanticleers

Even more than I like mascots that are crafted from out of nowhere (either as an obscure animal or based on an early 20th century toy), I can get behind a mascot that seems like it resulted from a committee one-upping itself. Sticking sort of near the concept of the Gamecock used elsewhere in the University of South Carolina system wasn't enough.

"Let's make it a rooster!"

"No, wait. Let's make it a blue rooster!"

"No. Hold on. You guys. You guys. Let's make it a Chaucerian blue rooster."

"This is why we put you on the Committee, Chair of the English Department."

I know that this is supposed to be a fight to the death, but to be honest, I'm not sure that the Chanticleer doesn't wield some sort of unspeakable rooster magic. I'm sorry, Bucky.

And now I really wish a team of Foxes was available in this part of the bracket.

Coastal Carolina advances.

#8 Oregon Ducks vs. #9 Oklahoma State Cowboys

On the face of it, I'm not sure there should be much of a fight here. On one hand, waterfowl. On the other, The Second Incarnation of the Eldritch Pistol Pete.

I've never been too sure about the OK State Pistol Pete; primarily because he looks a little more plastic and melty, but he's still got a gun.

His eyes follow you no matter where you move. I don't just mean while you're looking at the screen. I mean permanently and always.

I've tried to research historical interactions between Cowboys and Ducks, and it appears that the closest one can get to the topic is "Ducks of the West", Season 1, Episode 36 of DuckTales, wherein Scrooge's oil reserves dry up and I presume he goes after Daniel Day-Lewis.

The important thing to note is that there were apparently way more episodes of DuckTales than I'd have guessed.

But yes. Guns.

Oklahoma State advances.

#5 Arkansas Razorbacks vs. #12 Wofford Terriers

So, I've lived in Chicago for around a decade now, and I know this is going to be difficult to believe, but it's left me sort of lacking in knowledge about feral pigs.

I know.

I'm not really sure how frightening they are (although the term Razorback is pretty great), and most of what I've found on the subject seems to be that they're really, really annoying if you're a farmer/rancher. I get that.

Terriers, though, are not something I'd imagine are up to the task of actually fighting the feral pigs. Finding? Sure. Barking at? Absolutely. Actual feral pig combat?

I'm sorry, Terriers.

Arkansas advances.

#4 North Carolina Tar Heels vs. #13 Harvard Crimson

And so we've arrived at another "team named after denizens of the area" mascot. In this case, at least, Rameses exists, who I presume was the result of some manner of B-horror movie wherein the Pharoah attempts to preserve his consciousness to allow future generations to experience his greatness directly, but there's a radioactive ram? I guess? And then here we are.

Look upon my works, ye mighty, and applaud politely.

The Crimson could be argued as, maybe, the aftermath of the field of battle once John Harvard is done with you. But, at the end of the day, we've got some sort of ram-man fighting an early 17th century clergyman.

North Carolina advances.

#6 Xavier Musketeers vs. #11 Brigham Young Cougars

What's that? The actual tournament's already begun and this is now impossible? Fie, I say.

Here's the thing with the Musketeers. They've got military training. They're armed. And they've got the all-important Facial Hair Category in their favor.

Also, boot cuffs.

The argument you could make for the Cougars is that muskets themselves may not be terribly accurate, and it's possible that when going through the whole rigamarole with the ball and the powder and the ramrod, the Cougars could have a chance to strike.

I'm going to give the Musketeer the benefit of the doubt and presume he's got secondary armament and sufficient sass to prevail here.

Xavier advances.

#3 Baylor Bears vs. #14 Georgia State Panthers

Damn you, Bear vs. Big Cat.

The thing is, bears are effectively monsters with razor claws and a thirst for blood. So that's one thing. The Georgia State Panther, on the other hand, is an unnatural shade of blue that leads me to believe he's either got some sort of additional Blue Panther abilities or he's just really, really into Manic Panic.

These are always a tossup, but while I feel like I can't quite predict either opponent, I've only heard of one of them getting stuck in the entry to a Sears at the mall.

Georgia State advances.

#7 Virginia Commonwealth Rams vs. #10 Ohio State Buckeyes

On one hand, you've got a sheep. A horned sheep, sure, and one who's named Rodney, which is one of the better mascot names in the bracket.

On the other, you've got a nut. Or a delicious peanut butter and chocolate confectionery, but I'm going to presume Brutus is instead the actual nut. Buckeyes are poisonous, so Brutus' only real method of attack is waiting to be eaten, which it seems likely that a ram like Rodney might be vulnerable against.

Frankly, I don't really buy it, Brutus.

But that really seems like a loss for both parties. Sure, the ram is sort of sick, but the buckeye's been eaten. Instead, I think this ends with Rodney sort of nudging Brutus away and then going about his day.

Virginia Commonwealth advances.

#2 Arizona Wildcats vs. #15 Texas Southern Tigers

I don't want to besmirch the honor of the noble Wilbur and Wilma. Of the Wildcats in the bracket, though, for some reason I don't feel like I can trust Wilbur. I think it's either because his eyes are shaded by his characteristic Stetson, or because what I believe is supposed to be a Stetson occasionally gets a little too floppy and starts heading toward the dreaded "Bucket Hat" territory, and if that's the case, he's likely to wind up stranded on an island despite visits from the Harlem Globetrotters.

Maybe some starch would help?

But, despite the direction I've gone with some of these today, this is a fight to the death and frankly, small feral cat doesn't stack up well against a 400 pound cat, no matter what kind of headwear is involved.

Texas Southern advances.

Murphspot Mascot Bracket 2015: Midwest Region

noreply@blogger.com (-Murphy) — Tue, 17 Mar 2015 07:18:00 +0000

#1 Kentucky Wildcats vs. #16 Hampton Pirates

So, in reality, Kentucky has a great team and was undefeated in the regular season and there is effectively no chance they'll lose this game, regardless of their opponent. The most the #16 seed can hope for is to put in a good showing and to face the wrath of Ashley Judd. Or Alison Lundergan Grimes instead, I guess.

But we are not in reality. We are in the mascot bracket, and feral Kentucky cats are not going to be much of a match for the delightfully Jaunty Blue Pirate of Destruction

Yo-ho? Yo-ho.

Hampton advances.

#8 Cincinnati Bearcats vs. #9 Purdue Boilermakers

As always, my favorite aspect of Cincinnati making the tournament is the opportunity to point out that their mascot smells like buttered popcorn. Is that relevant to a fight to the death with, apparently, a train? No. It isn't. But it's fun.

Fun fact: The butter flavoring gel pump at the movie theater is just chock full of binturong.

I could invoke the longstanding rule that the higher seed gets home-field advantage (which would allow the Fightin' Binturongs to pick anywhere that wasn't on a rail line to face the Boilermaker, but that isn't how the Binturong wants to go through life. He wants the battle, even if it's against a few tons of steel and fury.

Purdue advances.

#5 West Virginia Mountaineers vs. #12 Buffalo Bulls

I'm going to say that I really don't understand the city of Buffalo's aversion to just using the noble Buffalo as a mascot. At least, I guess, with Victor E. Bull, you're getting what you've paid for in that it's actually an anthropomorphic bull, rather than switching out the team name but still incorporating buffalo into the iconography (I'm looking at you, Sabres and Bills).

That said, this one's fairly quick. WVU's mountaineer calls to mind more of a hunter/trapper aesthetic than someone who's climbing things for sport, so I can't imagine a brightly colored bull will pose much challenge.

West Virginia advances.

#4 Maryland Terrapins vs. #13 Valparaiso Crusaders

I've got to give credit for Maryland for not just having a turtle, but picking a small subsection of turtledom and planting their flag.

So, not so much "fueled with battle rage" as "angry at having been woken up".

It'd probably help in this scenario if they hadn't picked one that, according to Wikipedia, doesn't really get to be larger than about a foot.

Valpo's Crusader may have a non-standard color scheme, but I imagine he's also got some sort of armored boot. Or a warhammer? He might have a warhammer!

Pictured: Guy who probably has a warhammer.

Valparaiso advances.

#6 Butler Bulldogs vs. #11 Texas Longhorns

And then there are matches like this where I don't want the mascots to fight. I want the mascots to team up and solve crime. The old, callous Texas Longhorn, a few weeks from retirement, is partnered with the young, idealistic bulldog and sent off to find out... something.

Probably something involving Big Red as a crime boss.

Whee-hah! You'll never catch me alive!

If they must fight, though, I'm not seeing a way for the bulldog to win. If nothing else, I'd think it's the longhorn in a "stepped on his opponent accidentally" KO.

Texas advances.

#3 Notre Dame Fighting Irish vs. #14 Northeastern Huskies

I always worry that when I write this stuff, I come across as anti-dog. I'm not anti-dog. I love dogs. I am fully aware that if a Husky were angry with me, it would be able to tear me apart, without even really exerting itself. They'll run through the Alaskan wilderness dragging a sled; as of this writing, they're actually currently doing that. I can't do that. I can barely make it to my car in Chicago in the winter without breaking down in tears.

I don't have a shillelagh, though.

For the sake of all Chicago, no one must ever introduce the shillelagh to Wrigleyville.

Notre Dame advances.

#7 Wichita State Shockers vs. #10 Indiana Hoosiers

Indiana's fine. And I have nothing against the denizens of Indiana. Everyone I know from Indiana is, by and large, pretty awesome. That said, going with "residents of the area" as the mascot for your team always seems a little off. I don't doubt that the hardworking people of Indiana could put up a fight, but there's something to be said for mascot style.

In most matchups, that wouldn't be that big an issue. But most don't involve a Wheat Golem.
I'm sorry, Indiana. Wichita State takes it on chutzpah.

I sort of wish there were a large genre of agricultural horror movies, and that WuShock rules as king.

Wichita State advances

#2 Kansas Jayhawks vs. #15 New Mexico State Aggies

Ah, Pistol Pete. Or, rather, the NMSU Pistol Pete, as legally distinct from the Oklahoma State Pistol Pete.

He seems kind of angry, and I don't understand how a man could be that angry and have that moustache.

I like the Jayhawks. I'm sure that if I saw a mythical bird wearing shoes with buckles on them coming at me in a dark alley, I would weep and then die, preemptively. But as much as I don't wish to discredit the noble Jayhawk, this avatar of the Greater Pistol Pete Entity has a sweet moustache and some pistols. And you can't bring a beak to a gunfight.

New Mexico State advances.