Spitting Image

There's a former Philadelphian inside Hiroshima's Phanatic doppelganger. But we can't tell you who.

by David Dritsas

Yoshimi Oka AM I BLUE? Slyly's borrowed more than a look from the Phillie Phanatic. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

On a muggy summer day at the Hiroshima Municipal Stadium in Japan, thousands cheer as a familiar face steps onto the field. He waves at admirers while swaggering past the opposing team and clowning his way toward the outfield section, where most Japanese fans at Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB) games sit. He can't help but draw attention, what with a larger-than-life build, rock-star haircut and crazy but cool eyes. Oh, also, he's bright blue.

He is Slyly, the mascot of the Hiroshima Toyo Carp, last season's fifth-place team in Japan's Central League. He is not just recognizable to fans of the Carp; anyone in Philly would recognize him as an almost identical copy of the Phillie Phanatic. And in a strange twist, the guy inside the suit is from the Philadelphia area.

The only problem is, we can't tell you who he is, exactly. In order to be interviewed for this story, the guy inside the Slyly suit required that his name be left out, not because he's shy (he's unabashedly open) but because the Carp's management insists Slyly's identity remain secret. So let's just call him Sly.

"I agree with the Carp philosophy in this, although, they go a little crazy with it," says Sly. "To me, I don't care if adults know that I am Slyly. When I'm at a bar talking to someone and they're like, 'So what do you do?' I tell them. That being said, though, I want to work for the Carp for a few more years and I don't want to be fired ifmy name comes up when someone in the front office Googles 'Slyly.'"

How this American came to become a Japanese mascot is actually a matter of tradition. Twelve years ago, the Carp were the only Japanese baseball team without a mascot, so an American intern from Arizona State suggested they start a mascot program. Owner Hajime Matsuda agreed and charged the intern with finding someone, so a mascot from Arizona State got the job.

From there the story starts to sound like something out of a Green Lantern comic book. According to Sly, each Slyly is responsible for finding the next, and it has become a tradition to fill the position with an American. Sly is the seventh man to wear the suit and, entering his third year, will be the second-longest-tenured.

Tall, athletic and comically goofy in real life, this 26-year-old Lansdale native and graduate of the University of the Arts (2004) came with credentials. When Sly applied for the job at gameops.com, a resource site for mascots and a place to buy "human [hockey] puck costumes," he had already been working for two years as Tux, the mascot of the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins American Hockey League (AHL) team. Although he did not speak Japanese, prior international experience made his application attractive. (His credentials included drinking beer and playing Aussie rules football in Australia for five months.)

It didn't hurt that Sly was also a former Phillies Phanstormer — one of those people who walks around during Phillies' games singing "Happy Birthday" to kids and helping the Phanatic load his T-shirt gun. Now, he's in the position to hold the gun (although Slyly's budget does not yet include "T-shirt gun" ).

Some in Japan say that Slyly is more "Kawaii," a Japanese term for cute, than the Phanatic. Upon close inspection there are three major differences that separate Slyly from his American counterpart. First, there's the blue thing. Second, he's got a feathery mullet that would make any Muppet proud (not surprising; the Henson Company originally designed both the Phanatic and Slyly). And third, in perhaps the first example of mascot overcompensation, Slyly has not one, but two extendable proboscises that can pop out unexpectedly for comic effect.

All that is probably enough for any attorney to walk away from the notion of an infringement claim. Tom Burgoyne, the current man inside the Phanatic — er, we mean, the Phanatic's "best friend and spokesperson" — knows exactly who Slyly is. "People have asked me about it before," he says. "[Fans] have contacted me a few times about it. I think it's interesting." To Burgoyne, his "buddy" and the Phillies, Slyly is just an interesting copy.

Though he studied to be a performer and has theater and improv experience, Sly admits to "borrowing" from his counterpart. "I occasionally use the traditional Philadelphia Phanatic routine where [he] flirts and dances with an umpire or the opposing team," he says.

Any likeness may be lost on Slyly's fans. "Most Japanese people have no idea who the Phanatic is," claims Sly. "Philadelphia is known as that place with AIDS [from the movie, Philadelphia], the place with Rocky and [where] we all eat cream cheese all the time. It is also one of the most difficult words for a Japanese person to pronounce (FI-RA-DE-RU-FI-A). As a result, a lot of people think I'm from Florida (FU-RO-RI-DA)."

Though that might sound racist, Sly insists he's enamored with Japan; he's even married to a Japanese woman with whom he had a son. "This experience has made me much more sympathetic to foreigners and recent immigrants to America who do not speak English," he says. "Right after I came to Japan, that bullshit at Geno's happened."

His time there has also disavowed him of some misconceptions, including why he was hired. "A common misconception by Americans was that we are just naturally superior comedic performers in comparison to the serious and shy Japanese," he says. "This is stupid. I am the only foreigner who is a mascot for a NPB team, and the other mascots are really good performers."

It's also a misconception that Sly's identity is kept secret because he's not Japanese. Sly claims that really isn't an issue and that some fans have already figured it out. He recalls one game at which an announcement to sing the Japanese national anthem — not a consistent practice at NPB games — came over the PA, in Japanese, of course.

"All of a sudden I hear a fan yell, 'Ayy, Slyly wa nihonjin j'nai yo!' or something like that, which essentially means, 'Hey, Slyly's not Japanese!' I still don't realize what's going on, and continue waving and dancing," he remembers. "Finally, I realize what's going on and I turn around by the end of the song to face the flag. Honestly, I was pretty embarrassed. But, hey, it was probably hilarious, and that's my job."

(editorial@citypaper.net)