Bucky Badger’s Game Day

There’s a moment that seems to happen to every student lucky enough to portray Bucky Badger, the University of Wisconsin–Madison’s beloved mascot. They step into the suit and the world narrows and fades. Nothing else matters but bringing joy to others.

“It’s like every difficulty you might be having in your own life completely melts away,” says Cecil x’26, a third-year Bucky who is pursuing a teaching degree. “Your only job is to be a giant magnet of love.”

This year, eight students get to be that giant magnet. For these select few — chosen during three days of intense tryouts each spring — nothing tops the thrill of a home football game at Camp Randall Stadium. It’s the marquee event, a massive canvas for Bucky’s wildest stunts, best dance moves, and most inspired improv shtick.

“It’s your own playground you get to goof around on,” says Nolan x’26, a biomedical engineering major and a third-year Bucky. “You just try to forget that you’re doing it in front of nearly 80,000 people.”

Last season, the September 7 matchup between the UW and the University of South Dakota Coyotes showed the complex Bucky Badger operation in action, from planning to execution to last-minute tweaks. It provided an object lesson in being Bucky: on the one hand, the overwhelming physical demands and performance anxiety; and on the other, the indescribable joy of pleasing a stadium’s worth of cheering UW fans.

“Bucky gets away with a lot”

A Badger football home game activates the entire Bucky squad — all eight students are required to be at Camp Randall. Three will take turns portraying Bucky during the game (a nod to the exertion required), while the others will retrieve props, run interference, film Bucky for highlight reels, or help hoist the “Bucky board” for the mascot’s popular airborne push-ups.

Bucky’s workday starts hours before kickoff at tailgate parties across campus. On this day, five students fan out to groups that have requested a Bucky appearance, including the ROTC Badger Battalion and the School of Veterinary Medicine. The students are careful never to intersect. (If you ever see two Buckys at once, something has gone seriously wrong in the universe.)

Later, in the warm-up to kickoff, Bucky works the crowd at Badger Bash, the rollicking tailgate party at Union South. Today, Cecil is in the suit. New Buckys revere the veteran. “He’s a blueprint for what Bucky should be — very animated, never still, great with props,” says Charlie x’27, a legal studies major and a first-year Bucky.

Despite the costume’s limited vision, Cecil careens full throttle through Union South, high-fiving fans. He arm-wrestles a burly guy, gives a grumpy man a back rub, seizes a plate of food and balances it precariously atop three soda cans.

“Bucky gets away with a lot,” says Zach x’27, a pre-nursing major and first-year Bucky.

All the while, fans beseech Bucky for attention, some grabbing and jostling him as if there isn’t a real person inside. Michelle Brayer Gregoire ’95 of Milwaukee couldn’t be more respectful. She asks Bucky to pose for a photo with her and her mother, Mary Kathleen Conway Thurow ’65, age 81, of Baraboo, Wisconsin. Afterward, Gregoire squeezes Bucky’s paw. “Thank you for bringing so much happiness to so many people,” she tells him.

The scene repeats itself about 1,000 times on this day.

“Bucky pool party!”

Once Bucky finishes his Badger Bash duties, all eight students gather an hour before kickoff at the McClain Center, the indoor training space next to Camp Randall. It’s a high-stakes moment. During the fourth quarter of each home game, Bucky gets to put on a skit in front of the student section. But first, Bucky must perform it to an audience of one: Josette Jaucian ’97, director of the Wisconsin Spirit Squad.

Think of her as Bucky’s overlord, in a good way. (See sidebar.) She manages everything from the tryouts to requests for appearances. She’s not Bucky’s coach — there isn’t one; the veterans show the ropes to newcomers — but she is his protector.

“I remind the students that they’re not just representing the athletic department, they’re representing the university and the entire state,” she says. “They need to be family-friendly and smart about their choices.”

That’s all to say that if there’s any controversial or questionable content in the skit, it’s not going to happen.

The eight students have a lot of autonomy in coming up with skit ideas, and they throw everything they have at it weeks before each game.

“It’s our two minutes during the game to really shine, to show off what we can do — props, crowd involvement, a well-crafted storyline,” says Jacob x’26, a mechanical engineering and data sciences major and a third-year Bucky.

At a brainstorming session for the Coyotes game, Zach, who will be the primary Bucky, pitches his skit idea to the rest of the Buckys.

“The weather is likely to be hot,” he tells them. “I think we should take advantage of that: Bucky Pool Party!”

The others love the idea. The next 30 minutes are electric. Ideas fly back and forth and build off each other. It’s decided: Bucky will wear a swimsuit and goggles and dive from the top of a milk crate into an inflatable kiddie pool filled with real water!

Two days later, it falls to Jacob to run the idea past Jaucian for preliminary approval. The other Buckys are there, too, anxiously awaiting her answer.

“No water,” she says immediately.

The Buckys are deflated but take it surprisingly well.

“We learned early on that when Jo says no, stop talking,” Jacob says. “You do not change Jo’s mind.”

There is grudging respect for her authority.

“She’s like our parent,” Nolan says. “There has to be a person who says you can’t have 10 lollipops for dinner.”

The skit is revamped — Bucky will jump into a dry pool filled with pillows. At the McClain Center before the Coyotes game, Jaucian gives the revised skit the thumbs up.

Zach and Cecil grab each other and jump up and down. “She said yes! She said yes!”

The Boss of Bucky

She’s known affectionately as “Bucky’s Mom.” And sometimes “Bucky’s Parole Officer.”

Perhaps no one loves Bucky quite as much as Josette Jaucian ’97 — or reins him in quite so expertly when he strays.

“Sometimes, as Buckys, the students think they’re invincible,” she says. “They’re not. There are rules.”

Jaucian, as director of the Wisconsin Spirit Squad, oversees the cheerleading, dance, and Bucky teams. She handles all the behind-the-scenes administrative tasks for Bucky, including coordinating some 600 appearances a year. She’s celebrating her 25th anniversary in the role.

“Day in and day out, Bucky’s all around me all the time,” she says.

Jaucian, a kinesiology major, was a Badger cheerleader throughout her undergraduate years, then stayed on as an assistant and rose up the ranks.

She fields complaints about Bucky (“He broke a table!”) but also gets to hear the praise — for example, “Bucky got my child to come out of his shell.” She zealously guards Bucky’s image. Once, when a fan from an opposing team tried to claim that Bucky had flipped him off, Jaucian enjoyed letting him know that the UW–Madison mascot has only four digits on each hand. It is mathematically impossible for Bucky to give someone the middle finger.

The Buckys speak of Jaucian with immense respect and a wee bit of fear.

“She’s the boss,” Nolan says. “You don’t want to get on Jo’s bad side.”

“As much as Jo is the person who has to say no,” adds Cecil, “she’s also the one who fights for us when we need something.”

Jaucian has done the job so long that she must occasionally remind herself of its specialness.

“If I step back a bit,” she says, “I realize how amazing it is to be able to make sure Bucky is out there making people happy.”

— D.E.

“I’ve experienced so much as Bucky”

The game clock reads seven minutes to kickoff. Bucky is waiting in a tunnel on the back of the Bucky Wagon, the restored fire engine that will take him onto the field. Zach is now suited up. (For logistical and sanitary reasons, there are eight suits, one per Bucky.) This is his first home game, and he has the biggest role of the day.

“When you hit the field on the Bucky Wagon, the whole world goes quiet,” Cecil says. “It’s like someone has put the volume on mute. Nothing else matters for a span of four hours.”

Despite the pressure, Zach has been calm in the days leading up to his Camp Randall debut. He was a three-sport athlete in high school and thrived off the energy of crowds. That’s part of the appeal of being Bucky. “I was missing that feeling of a big game,” he says.

The Bucky Wagon zooms onto the field, sirens blazing and faux smoke billowing. Bucky disembarks at the 50-yard line and makes a figure eight with a giant W flag. He beelines toward the opposing sideline, then takes a sharp turn and heads to his rightful home in front of the Badger student section. The Buckys practice this maneuver many times, partly because they need to be prepared for the physical toll of carrying a massive, drag-creating flag while sprinting in a suit that weighs 33 pounds. “Brutal,” Nolan says.

Another physical test comes just minutes into the game when the Badgers score a touchdown. Zach cranks out seven push-ups atop the Bucky board as fans yell each number: “one … two … three …”

“The crowd will try to make you go faster,” Cecil had warned Zach before the game. “Don’t fall for it.”

The push-ups become cumulative as the Badgers continue to score. Once, Bucky had to do close to 600 at a single game. To prepare, each Bucky commits to doing at least 100 push-ups a day. They are also required to lift weights twice a week with the rest of the Spirit Squad.

By the end of the first quarter, the air temperature has climbed to the mid-60s — mild for fans but hot for Bucky. “It’s an extra 20 to 30 degrees inside the suit,” Nolan says.

In a seamless swap, Jacob wears the suit for the second quarter. He’s a pro, unflappable. “I’ve experienced so much as Bucky that nothing really fazes me anymore,” he says. “I went skydiving and felt no adrenaline.”

“Bucky is the gold standard”

Halftime finds the crew in a locker room taking a lunch break and consorting with “the enemy” — Charlie Coyote, the mascot for the opposing team.

“We try to be very hospitable, because we’d want that, too,” Jacob says.

Charlie Coyote is portrayed on this day by Caleb, a University of South Dakota law student. Turns out the Buckys know him from college mascot summer camp. Caleb is the opposite of a trash-talker.

“Bucky is the gold standard for Big Ten mascots and mascots in general,” he says. “No one beats Bucky in keeping the energy of the fans going.”

Caleb is also a little jealous. He points to his costume’s massive lower paws.

“Bucky gets to wear regular shoes. I’ve got these clunky feet. They’re awful. I can’t do push-ups with them.”

For the third quarter, Charlie is in the Bucky suit. Together with Zach and Jacob, the three have displayed an impressive range of creativity during the game. Bucky rides a cooler like a horse, bumps bellies with a member of the event staff, pretends to vacuum the end zone.

“The best part of Bucky on a game day is the unpredictability of it and the sheer spontaneity,” Cecil says. “Sometimes you think you’ve seen Bucky do everything, and then you see something new.”

Zach, back in the suit, performs the skit during the fourth quarter. Atop the milk crate, Bucky cannonballs into the kiddie pool after getting fans to clap wildly and yell, “Jump! Jump!” Five front-row fans raise scoring cards giving Bucky across-the-board 10s. Snippets of the skit appear on the jumbotron, visible to the sellout crowd of 76,061. This is the Holy Grail for a Bucky skit.

The game ends with the Badgers triumphant: 27–13. During the postgame Fifth Quarter, Bucky is joined on the field by the other seven students out of costume. They release the stress of the game by roughhousing and tackling each other. All eight do headstands together and sway back and forth to “Varsity.”

“There is so much that goes into being Bucky that you can’t tell other people about,” says Cecil, who lives in a house near Camp Randall with four other Buckys. “To be able to share life with these guys inside and outside the suit is so special.”

“Sometimes when we’re together, we talk about Bucky way too much and have to say, ‘Okay, let’s cut it out,’ ” Zach says.

“Making Bucky better”

Back in the locker room after the game, the Buckys sit in a circle and debrief. There’s universal agreement that this performance was among the all-time greats.

“That was what I would want every game day to look like,” Jacob tells the group. “Every single one of us was in the suit at some point today. The amount we did, and the cohesiveness on the field, felt amazing.”

“In my three years here, I’ve yet to see a moment like what I witnessed during the skit,” Cecil says. “The whole crowd was into it. The chanting started at the bottom of the stands and went all the way to the top. Zach, I was so proud of you.”

Everyone wants to hear from the first-timers.

Charlie cops to having been nervous before the game but says he “became entranced in a flow state” by the end of his quarter. Zach feels like he started off a little stiff during the first quarter but gradually improved.

“Every time we have an event like this,” Zach tells them, “it shows the dynamic we have together and why I want to be a part of this and keep making Bucky better and better, because it’s all about Bucky.”

Not all games go this well. Sometimes there are communication problems or suit malfunctions. Regardless, every home game ends the same for the Buckys.

“No matter what happens during the game,” Jacob says, “we leave it in the locker room and walk out together.”