Groundhog tryout day

In sports, there are tough-guy mascots and acrobat mascots, traditional mascots and live mascots. Chopper, the Gwinnett Braves portly groundhog, is still a personality in progress. His toothy smile is too big to make him a bully. He doesn’t have a favorite song. It’s not yet clear if he can, or should, do the splits.

So, during open mascot auditions Tuesday, wanna-be Choppers —- in borrowed bloodhound, eagle and bear costumes —- did what they could. They boogied to Usher and James Brown and chucked candy at students at Georgia Gwinnett College. Some did the splits; some were winded within minutes.

“It takes a special person,” said Gwinnett Braves assistant general manager and judge Bill Blackwell.

What were the Braves looking for?

Good cheer, mostly. A rodent who can brighten up a dispirited baseball fan or let a little kid win a race. Otherwise, lots of energy.

“The mascot is always on. There’s no off switch,” said Rob Montepare, 22, of Lawrenceville. He should know. The former Gwinnett Gladiator Maximus is the new AAA baseball team’s primary Chopper.

The tryouts were for auxiliary mascots to fill in at home games, attend birthday parties and make hospital visits. Like Santa Claus, Chopper can be in more than one place at a time. (And the team keeps two suits on hand.) A Chopper must have standard routines, but also be able to think on his giant, foam feet. His movement and personality must be larger than life because, well, he is.

One would-be Chopper, Kevin Neely, 31, of Atlanta, who’s played Rookie, the Hudson Valley Renegades raccoon, for five years, had the good cheer part down. “It’s the most outrageous fun you can have in 98 degrees in a wool suit,” he said.

MASCOT MAXIMS

What does a sports mascot need to succeed inside the suit?

> Sweat resistance. Think moisture-wicking underclothes, powerful deodorant and a bandana. It gets hot inside the suit, even with a small fan buzzing and ice packs on the wearer’s chest. Sweat is a huge problem. “You can get in weighing 165 and get out weighing 155,” Montepare said.

> Squirt guns. Or other props —- games for playing, hats for tossing, other mascots to play with. As Rookie, Neely liked to keep it simple with dugout dances and on-field sprints. But to get kids’ attention quickly, he said, a mascot needs a Super Soaker.

> First aid kit. Chopper’s includes: a sewing kit, in case of emergency costume repairs; disinfectant wipes for funk-prevention; a hair brush to smooth all the matting caused by small, sticky fingers; Mr. Clean Magic Erasers to keep his eyes and teeth a shiny white; and … dryer sheets? “Some guys like Burberry,” Montepare said. “Chopper likes Target dryer sheets. That’s his cologne.”

> A big Sharpie. Mascots have big hands, and no hope of holding a little pen, or even a normal-sized marker. For all the autographs he signs, Chopper needs the BIG Sharpie —- and a trademark signature. All the Choppers will learn to sign the same way, with a long “C” and teeth.

> A posse. Peripheral vision? What’s that? Mascots require a handler to lead them, line up autograph seekers and shield them from harm. Harm, of course, usually comes from a short, out-of-sight child that barrels toward the life-size character for a hug, only to knock him right where it hurts. Don’t forget: good cheer!