Funky Chicken In which the author recounts his year as the University of Delaware's biggest fan: a 6-foot-4-inch giant blue hen. Delaware Today, March 2003 I stood on a creaky wooden stage, flapping my arms as if I were about to take flight. The pantomime section of the audition had begun. "YoUDee's mother just died. Show us how he feels," the panel of judges said. I dropped to my knees, wrung my hands, and looked heavenward. "The football team just scored the winning touchdown." I leaped in the air, spun in a few tight circles, pumped my fists and did ... well ... a chicken dance. A few days later I got the call. It was an invitation to join an elite squadron. YoUDee, the University of Delaware's Fightin' Blue Hen, consistently ranks in the top 10 at the annual American Cheerleading Association national championships, and last year, YoUDee was named the No. 1 mascot in the country. YoUDee alumni include Ryan Hughes (the current Philadelphia Eagles mascot "Swoop") and Dave Raymond, a former Phillie Phanatic — the undisputed top dog ... or whatever it is ... of professional sports mascots. As YoUDee, I was one of the most popular guys at the stadium. Hugs, handshakes, pats on the beak — I got them all. I was the BCOC (big chicken on campus). I also got V.I.P. access. YoUDee hangs out on the sidelines at football games and courtside at basketball games. Plus, YoUDee has a custom van, a team of bodyguards, and a stockroom full of oversized props to play with. One of my fellow YoUDee team members used to joke that wearing the YoUDee costume practically guaranteed being swarmed by flirty sorority girls. She wasn't too thrilled by that, but I didn't mind it. Photo ops? All the time. Autographs? Sure, every once in a while. In fact, we mascot team members regularly practiced YoUDee's distinctive signature so we wouldn't produce chicken scrawl when it came time to deliver our John Hencock through the costume. However, running around as the Fightin' Blue Hen wasn't all glitz and glamour. Regular chickens may not perspire, but students running around in giant chicken costumes sure do. Within just 15 minutes inside the costume, a performer's clothes, saturated with sweat, begin to feel like the lead vests you wear when getting an X-ray. (YoUDee does actually wear a vest under the costume — it's filled with ice packs to keep the performer from overheating.) After half an hour, it feels like you've run a marathon. Every movement we made in the costume had to be exaggerated tenfold or YoUDee would look limp and unenthused. And when you're YoUDee, you've got to make a lot of movements. Since YoUDee doesn't talk, we had to remain in constant motion while in the suit. My time as YoUDee gave me a chance to perform for large crowds and a chance to see plenty of Delaware home games. It also gave me the opportunity to act silly with impunity. And though I no longer go incognito as the loveable Blue Hen, you may still see me acting silly like that ... once in a while. Shaun Gallagher is Delaware Today's managing editor.