Mascot Flashback: Souki of the Montreal Expos

During the offseason, we'll be interviewing mascots of baseball's past. This week, we're taking a look at Souki of the Montreal Expos. 

First off, Souki, we have to ask, what are you?

That’s a good question. Nobody has ever taken the time to find out who or what I am -- so thank you. I’m actually part of the famous Ballhead family. Think you’ve probably heard of Homer, Mr. Met and Mr. Red? Mr. Met is my father, Red is my older brother and Homer is the baby of the family. I’m the middle child, hence, the zero success.

Wow, so being a mascot is something that’s always run in your family?

Yes, we actually went through rigorous training exercises on our planet Headstrong. Dad got us all started early. We weren’t even allowed to play Little League. Instead, Dad had us dance around as mascots for our respective teams. We wore capes and goggles. Dad said it was a costume we wouldn’t need if we made it to the big leagues on Earth.

We’d entertain crowds of 20 and perform in front of players (who were mostly our own classmates). Some of them would throw bats at our heads and taunt us in school. It was embarrassing. I hated it – and not just because I wasn’t good! Dad just seemed to put more time in with Red and Homer. He never even watched me. He never had time …

Ok, alright, let’s move on. So then you broke into Major League Baseball in 1978 with the Montreal Expos?

That’s correct. Neither Red nor Homer wanted to go to Montreal (and neither did I), but Dad said it would be “be good for you.” So, I went. I loved Canada. Olympic Stadium made me feel right at home. One big dome inside another. Get itjQuery152023436495405621827_1352434156284 Haha. Gosh, I’ll never be as funny as Red.

But the fans in Montreal? They were a different story. Again, I’m the middle child, so looks are not on my side. My head it too big for my hat and my neck looks like a golf tee. I gave children nightmares.

So why did your tenure as mascot end?

Well, as I said before, I’m a scary-looking Ballhead. During ’78, I made kids cry. Lots of them. By the end of the season, I was pretty down. I’d seen Dad when his team came to town and he barely spoke to me. It was awful. So, during a game that fall, I was a on a real roll scaring kids – and just couldn’t stop doing it. I became addicted to it. I didn’t care anymore. I knew my time on Earth was coming to a close.

Later in the game, a furious father got up and attacked me. He punched me in the face and pushed me over a row of seats. Luckily (I think?) my head took most of the impact. Soon after, I was released from the Expos.

Now, I’m just living out my days on Headstrong. I have two boys of my own – who are currently on a Little League team. Oh, and they’re players, not mascots.