The Patroons’ GOAT-to cheerleader
It’s the third quarter of the April 13 game between the Albany Patroons and the Montreal Tundra. Albany is up 30 and the fans at the Armory are getting a little bored. As if on cue, The GOAT takes action.
The GOAT, the team’s newto-2023 mascot, is wielding a cowbell and lounging in the top row of the upper deck above the venue’s entrance. It chimes two beats, and the prompt for a “de-fense” chant brings the crowd back to life. During a particular tedious, foul-laden stretch during fourth-quarter garbage time that brings the action to a halt, The GOAT provides a sympathetic figure for the audience to rally behind. It slouches further and further in its seat in mock agony, the thwacking of the cowbell becoming increasingly languid. This distraction from the on-court activities is both hilarious and sorely needed.
Behavior like this isn’t a one-off. The GOAT is always on duty. At the May 12 game against the Reading Rebels, for instance, it poured beer down a fan’s gullet courtside, horsed around with kids in the bleachers and snatched a cellphone out of someone’s hand and pretended to talk on it. And that was all just in the first quarter.
In a league where the quality of teams and play can vary wildly on any given night, The GOAT has proven to be a consistently entertaining presence at Patroons home games and far more dedicated to the craft of mascot-ry than one could reasonably fathom.
So, what’s The GOAT’s story? Where did it come
from, and why is it so darned entertaining? I reached out to The GOAT’s handlers with the Patroons with a list of questions, but I’m no chupacabra, tracking down an anthropomorphic goat on non-game days is quite the challenge.
So based on personal observation and a knowledge of Patroons lore, here’s what I’ve learned about the mysterious GOAT:
Why a goat/The GOAT?
That’s an easy one. GOAT is an acronym for “greatest of all time” and giving the team’s mascot that moniker just makes sense. The Albany Patroons is historically and
presently one of the great franchises at this level of professional basketball, from its Phil Jackson-coached years as part of the Continental Basketball Association in the early 1980s to last year’s runner-up finish in The Basketball League championship. The GOAT is a horned avatar for that success.
What’s The GOAT’s role with the team?
Well, most people are familiar with the purpose of a mascot at a sporting event. At home games, The GOAT regularly leads participatory chants and pot-and-pan banging and engages in sideline-based antics. During the halftime lull, it can be spotted doing the “YMCA” or messing with the TV broadcasters. And, as referenced above, The GOAT has a knack for creating a humorous diversion when the game’s pace is lacking.
How does The GOAT prepare for a game?
Presumably, it fills its four stomach chambers in the midafternoon in order to have enough energy to make it through the pre-game and game activities.
If you show up at the Armory when doors open an hour before tip-off, The GOAT is already outside the venue, hitting the crosswalk button for prospective attendees and hiding behind parked cars to pop out and surprise folks. The latter maneuver delighted my progeny last week.
Hardest part of being The GOAT?
It has to be the heat. With the TBL season stretching into the early summer, it gets quite hot and humid inside the Armory. If it’s uncomfortable for me, a human wearing shorts and a T-shirt, it must be misery for The GOAT.
What does The GOAT do when there isn’t a game?
That one remains a mystery! But I guess all that does matter is that when there is a game, The GOAT is there and at the ready.