If this were a normal year, we would be in the midst of March Madness. Sadly, we’re all missing out on the excitement on the court but I’m also craving some of the action on the sidelines.

The sideline is the domain of the mascot. Cheerleaders and the guys on the bench whose only real contribution to their team is coming up with wacky celebrations might take exception to that statement but deep down they know it’s true. It’s where costumed characters—no, heroes—entertain the masses while actual entertainment happens directly behind them.

The mascot has no real effect on the outcome of the game but that doesn’t mean there isn’t some skill involved. The most elite mascots possess a special cocktail of abilities that includes miming, comedic timing, and holding up a cardboard cut out of the letter “D” and another one of a picket fence.

Unfortunately, for some of these unsung heroes of both the gridiron and the hardwood, they are stuck wearing a get-up that terrifies both children and adults alike.

Those are the mascots we need to banish to the underworld; the startling, the ghoulish, and the disturbing.

Let’s take a look at some of the mascots who represent their respective colleges and universities with a level of creepiness that makes you shudder and wonder why they even exist in the first place.

Sparty (Michigan State)

We’ll ease our toes into the creepiness waters with Michigan State’s Sparty. As far as mascots modeled after humans, it’s by no means the worst example.

There are still some hangups, though.

What’s the deal with the super muscular thighs? I get wanting a tough mascot but I don’t necessarily want to have to worry about a mascot kicking my ass because I looked at it the wrong way.

And speaking of looks, I have no clue what’s happening with Sparty’s facial expression. It’s a strange combination of emotions that can convey sternness, smugness, and a dash of constipation all at once.

Sparty needs to get kicked into a bottomless pit.

The Tree (Stanford)

So, technically speaking, Stanford doesn’t have an “official mascot” but the band has this thing.

It looks like one of those talking trees from Lord of the Rings only it got cut from the movie for repeatedly showing up on set drunk—not the endearing kind of drunk but the kind of drunk that involves hurling both insults and the craft services table at production assistants.

I’m not sure why this is but the thing that bugs me most is the human legs where its trunk should be. Couple that with a ghoulish smile and googly eyes and you’ve got yourself a few gallons of high-test nightmare fuel.

Part of me hopes that Stanford’s band runs on the field again because I would kind of love to see this Christmas decoration get trampled by a wide receiver running a post route. I don’t want anyone to get hurt but you can’t tell me that wouldn’t become a blooper real mainstay for the next hundred years.

Pistol Pete (Oklahoma)

I’m finding that the human mascots all have the same problem: they find themselves directly in the uncanny valley, the psychological concept that something can look human-like but just off enough that it creeps all of us out. It’s the bread and butter of the creepy mascot; their four-seam fastball they throw with the velocity of a t-shirt cannon.

Pistol Pete (not to be confused with Maravich) exemplifies this concept. There’s just something incredibly unnerving about him.

It’s the only mascot I can think of that looks like it rolled out of bed without shaving because it was out too late partying at the local saloon, perhaps getting into fights or shooting the player piano because he thought it was possessed.

The thousand-yard stare doesn’t help matters either. Pistol Pete is a mascot who has seen some shit in his day.

Of all the mascots who could have a weapon in their name (and even in their hands at times), Pistol Pete seems like the one that would actually use it.

WuShock (Wichita State)

At the risk of sounding like one of those guys who doesn’t like things simply because I don’t understand them, I really don’t like WuShock and I’m skeptical if Wichita State could even provide a solid explanation for this crime against nature.

According to GoShockers.com, WuShock is a “big, bad, muscle-bound bundle of wheat” which, in layman’s terms, means it’s a pile of grass that lifts. Mascots are supposed to get the crowd pumped and I think it would be hard to get rowdy just because a sentient pile of lawn trimmings with muscles told you to.

Along with the concept, everything about WuShock is a no from me, dawg. The weird crooked mouth, the vaguely phallic nose, and the Gary Buseyesque hair cut all combine for an unprecedented creep-fest that can occasionally be seen wandering up and down the March Madness sidelines.

Friar Dom (Providence College)

I’ve saved the absolute creepiest for last.

This unholy abomination’s blank stare will haunt you well after you’ve seen it. To borrow a line from Quint, It’s got lifeless eyes, black eyes…like a doll’s eyes.

I also have no clue what’s going on with this thing’s mouth but I know that you’ll go into a catatonic state if you stare into it à la the clown in It.

This is one of the few mascots that I think actually could have an impact on the outcome of a game. Imagine standing on the line and having Friar Dom staring into your soul trying to get you to airball a free throw. Maybe you’d be able to shake it off, but if the game were down to the wire, it wouldn’t be easy.

He may be a religious man but I’m pretty sure he’s a disciple of Satan.