What did you think NBA mascots do after hours? Did you really think they just hang up their suits when the game's over—go home, sip brandy, and read Chaucer by the fire? Nah, sorry, friend. The suit stays on and shit gets freaky. Freaky as you wanna.
During last night's game between Memphis and Atlanta, the Grizzlies mascot Grizz was apparently celebrating his birthday with a couple of fuzzy buddies from across the NBA, and came out to center court and got into formation. That's when everyone's favorite burpy little sex beat came on and the undulation began. Clothes were torn from limb, and things got... perplexing.
Grizz kinda got caught up with tearing his jersey off—we'll forgive his amateur hour theatrics, as it was his birthday. (Though he did end up being unsettlingly buck nekked.) But Franklin, the Sixers' mascot, was the real MVP. Threw down that T like some kind of Magical Michael, humped the ground like a fire hydrant, and wagged that tail like, uh... I won't go there.
Whatever the rationale was from whoever is in charge of these things will certainly owe the children of America their money back from all the hours of therapy they'll need for whatever psychosexual trauma that was just caused. Let's just hope they don't go home and google the term "furry."
[h/t The Score]