Dude, the mascots for the upcoming Winter Olympics in Vancouver are sweet! You've got Quatchi, a sasquatch who longs to be a hockey goalie; Miga, the half bear, half killer whale sea beast that I can only imagine possesses an insatiable lust for blood under its adorable exterior; and Sumi, the winged bear-fox-orca creature thingy. There's even an unofficial sidekick: Mukmuk, the Vancouver Island marmot (not pictured). I assume Mukmuk is around to keep these other vicious combo-beasts in check, I mean, mixing a bear and a killer whale together is just asking for trouble.But Vancouver hasn't cornered the market on super sweet Olympic mascots. No, there have been tons--well, at least four--totally awesome mascots who came before. And here they are in order of awesomeness.
4. Powder (2002 Winter Olympics, Salt Lake City)
Powder was just one member of an Olympic power trio which also featured Copper, a coyote who apparently represented the concept "higher," and Coal, a bear representing "stronger." Powder, as you may have already guessed, represented "faster." Put them together and you get higher, faster, and stronger or how one feels when he or she is baptized into the Mormon church.
Powder was just one member of an Olympic power trio which also featured Copper, a coyote who apparently represented the concept "higher," and Coal, a bear representing "stronger." Powder, as you may have already guessed, represented "faster." Put them together and you get higher, faster, and stronger or how one feels when he or she is baptized into the Mormon church. 3. Neve & Gliz (2006 Winter Olympics, Turin)
You know why I love Neve and Gliz so much? Because they are walking nightmares. Imagine being a child in Turin in 2006. You're in the Olympic Village with your parents shopping for commemorative pins or something, and suddenly Neve and Gliz come bursting out of nowhere, eerie grins plastered across their blank white faces, cavorting and waving. You'd freak the hell out! "Mommy, what are they?" you might cry into your mother's perfumed bosom. "What do they want?" It's a safe bet your mother, nor your father, nor anyone else in the immediate vicinity could accurately describe to you what exactly Neve and Gliz are and realizing this, well, I wouldn't be surprised if an all out riot of sheer blind panic broke out in the streets of Turin.
You know why I love Neve and Gliz so much? Because they are walking nightmares. Imagine being a child in Turin in 2006. You're in the Olympic Village with your parents shopping for commemorative pins or something, and suddenly Neve and Gliz come bursting out of nowhere, eerie grins plastered across their blank white faces, cavorting and waving. You'd freak the hell out! "Mommy, what are they?" you might cry into your mother's perfumed bosom. "What do they want?" It's a safe bet your mother, nor your father, nor anyone else in the immediate vicinity could accurately describe to you what exactly Neve and Gliz are and realizing this, well, I wouldn't be surprised if an all out riot of sheer blind panic broke out in the streets of Turin.Neve and Gliz are, in fact, an anthropomorphic snowball and ice cube respectively, and while they are horrifying, they seem friendly. Like, I don't honestly think Neve and Gliz would actually ever hurt anybody on purpose.
Also, the 2006 Winter Olympics were held in Turin? How did I not know this at all?
2. Schuss (1968 Winter Olympics, Grenoble)
I like Schuss for the same reason I like Neve and Gliz: he defies all explanation. The very existence of Schuss makes the idea of humanoid ice cubes okay somehow. Schuss is obviously a skier of some kind. He's wearing skis presumably, plus his name is a skiing term, so, you know, duh.
I like Schuss for the same reason I like Neve and Gliz: he defies all explanation. The very existence of Schuss makes the idea of humanoid ice cubes okay somehow. Schuss is obviously a skier of some kind. He's wearing skis presumably, plus his name is a skiing term, so, you know, duh. It's Schuss's giant globe head, bright red face, and googly fish eyes that intrigues/horrifies me. Who is this Schuss and where did he come from? Is he from some distant star sent to France in the late 1960's to impart some kind of ski-centric message to the world? Is he crazy, because, let's face it, that smile doesn't exactly scream "I'm perfectly sane. Promise."
Whatever Schuss is he is the second coolest Olympic mascot of all time. And I'm not even holding the fact that he was creating by some French chick against him.
1. Vučko (1984 Winter Olympics, Sarajevo)
It took me a while, but I eventually figured out why Vucko here appeals to me so much. See, he kind of resembles one Mr. Chester Cheetah, which triggered the pleasure centers in my brain because I am a diehard fan of every Cheetos variation currently available to the public. Also, his muzzle sport of looks like a dick and balls, and as a man with both of these appendages in my boxer briefs, this appeals to the manly stud who resides inside of me, makes a rare appearance every Sunday during football season, and magically disappears once again.
It took me a while, but I eventually figured out why Vucko here appeals to me so much. See, he kind of resembles one Mr. Chester Cheetah, which triggered the pleasure centers in my brain because I am a diehard fan of every Cheetos variation currently available to the public. Also, his muzzle sport of looks like a dick and balls, and as a man with both of these appendages in my boxer briefs, this appeals to the manly stud who resides inside of me, makes a rare appearance every Sunday during football season, and magically disappears once again.You might be interested to know that Vucko beat out a mountain goat, a chipmunk, a lamb, a porcupine, and a snowball to become Sarajevo's official Olympic ambassador to the world. I think the right choice was made, but wouldn't it have been kind of awesome if the porcupine was chosen? I think so.
NEXT TIME: THE 6 LAMEST WINTER OLYMPIC MASCOTS OF ALL TIME
