The sweet smell of success – and sweat
 Bucky Badger greets children invited to campus for Halloween activities. Photo: Jeff Miller
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It’s New Year’s Day, 1999, and 25,000 Badgers fans are basking in the sun shining over Pasadena, cheering on their team in the Rose Bowl.
Waving wildly at them from the field is Bucky Badger. The fans can smell the roses as they watch the beloved mascot’s antics. But inside the sweltering 25-pound mask, Bucky can only smell sweat. It’s as if he buried himself in a pile of bowling shoes.
And he couldn’t be happier.
In his three years as the mascot, Kevin Peterburs has grown accustomed to the smell. It’s intensified over the years by the students who’ve played Bucky. Before every game, Peterburs sprays the inside of the mask with Febreeze, but even that doesn’t combat the odor. It’s one of the most vivid memories Peterburs has of the first time he squeezed the fiberglass mask over his head at tryouts his sophomore year.
“It’s a very pungent odor,” he says. “And you can barely see and breathe. You basically decide right then and there if this is something you want to do.”
For Peterburs, the decision to be Bucky Badger couldn’t have been easier. Growing up in Milwaukee, he was known for his energy. Friends still chide him about breakdancing lessons he took as a 5-year-old.
“My parents thought I’d like them because I had so much energy,” he says. “I was constantly running and dancing around the house.”
So one day when Peterburs, an engineering major, saw an ad seeking energetic individuals to fill the role of Buckingham U. Badger, he knew he’d be perfect.
But first, he had to prove it. The try-outs were intimidating. “We had to dance to all different kinds of music,” he recalls, “without the mask on.”
That’s when the break dancing lessons came in handy. One minute he was doing “the worm,” a slinky Michael Jackson-like move. The next, he was dancing with the grace of a ballerina.
“You pretty much feel like the biggest idiot in the world,” he says. “But that broke the ice because it was the first thing we had to do.”
In the next portion of tryouts, 35 Bucky hopefuls suited up to bring Bucky to life. And they had to do push-ups, as many as they could. “I think I did over 60,” Peterburs says, trying to hide a smile.
The judges saw potential in Peterburs and asked him back to a second round of tryouts. The next week, Peterburs was in a deep sleep when the phone rang. “Congratulations,” says the voice on the other end of the line. “You’re the next Bucky Badger.”
As Bucky, Peterburs is probably one of the most popular figures on campus. More than 75,000 fans come to cheer with him on football weekends. Nearly 322,300 alumni worldwide take pride in him as their college mascot. “It’s nice to know you’re well-known,” says Peterburs. “I still can’t get over the fact that I’m one of the few mascots in a college football video game. When a friend told me that, I had to go out and buy it.”
But living up to the expectations of Bucky Badger isn’t always as easy as people think. Being the badger requires so much energy that Peterburs starts downing pitchers of water the night before a game and doesn’t stop until the moment it starts. Not only does it keep him hydrated, it keeps his body cool. The temperature inside the outfit is 30 to 40 degrees warmer than it is outside.
Whether the temperature is 10 degrees or 110 degrees, Bucky can never show his fatigue. His job is to keep the momentum going, even when the team is losing.
“Someone, especially little kids, is always watching you,” he says.
Peterburs doesn’t follow any special exercise regimen to prepare for the stint, but he says it’s one of the toughest aspects of the job.
While they don’t have practices, the students who play Bucky do try to learn from each other at games. Sometimes they even hang out together and swap stories.
“They could relate when I told them about an interview I had for an engineering internship,” he says. “The very first thing the guy asked me after he looked at my resume was ‘are you really Bucky Badger?'”