During University of Miami football games, a big, white, feathery mascot roams the fields as the personification of the Hurricanes, dancing, cheering, leading the crowd in his signature spell-outs of C-A-N-E-S, and sauntering out to the fifty-yard line if a moment merits particular celebration.
His name is Sebastian, and he’s supposed to be a white ibis—a native wetland bird of Florida that’s equipped with long orange legs and a matching bill for spearing, pinching, and grasping prey like fish, amphibians, and insects. The University of Miami’s take on the bird enjoys a few anatomical liberties—most notably a duck-shaped bill (in lieu of a long, curved one), a set of bushy eyebrows, and a pair of plush orange boots.
Those aren’t the only embellishments the school gives to the species. According to folklore, the white ibis is the last bird to leave before a hurricane hits and the first to return, behavior that denotes both bravery and resilience. The ecological back-up to the story may not quite be there; as one Audubon article says, “White ibis aren’t any better or worse than any other species at protecting themselves from hurricanes.”
Of course, that’s not the point. Sebastian holds his own impressive lore, which started in 1926 when the university christened its athletic team the Hurricanes. The Canes searched for a mascot, toying first with a sixty-five-pound white boxer called Hurricane I in the forties. But the canine didn’t stick. In 1958 the first ibis stormed the field in a homemade costume designed and worn by student John Stormont and named “Icky.” Soon after, students voted to change Icky’s name to Sebastian, after San Sebastian Hall, the dorm in which the aptly named Stormont lived.
Today, students try out for the honor of joining “the flock” and donning the current Sebastian costume—and they keep their identity a strict secret the whole time they play the role. It’s only at graduation that a Sebastian shows themselves by wearing the big orange feet to walk across the stage and lead the students in one last spell-out. And that’s reason enough, in our opinion, to cheer on this legendary bird.
This article is part of a G&G series that decodes widely used but little understood phrases, traditions, and mascots in college football.
