Mike VII’s Life Lessons from One Year of Tigering

Dearest Dears,

Well, look who made it a WHOLE YEAR as Mike the Tiger?

It me, haters.

I’ve really grown into my role as your Pet/Mascot/Deity. And you, likewise, grow more deliciously sweet … looking each and every day, my spicy, spicy friends.

(I’m sure someone will take this milestone as an opportunity to post my weight on social media again. They get it, y’all, I’m thicc.)

I would like to share with you all that I’ve learned in a year as Your Tiger. Gather round, me snacks. You smell extra tasty today.

First and foremost, I’ve learned that you have to treat everyone fairly and equally. I’d heard that you should pick a fight with the biggest guy in the room and then everyone will take you seriously. Unfortunately for me, I’m the biggest (only) tiger here, so I basically just tried to eat everyone — literally — who came within a foot of me.

And that’s what made it FAIR.

That’s right, I just tried to attack everything and anyone around me. All of my Snacks are delicious. I don’t discriminate. I’d eat you all.

And it WORKED. Everyone takes me very seriously now. You don’t know: they serve me ground meat-based sculptures to eat and they built me a fancy yard and sometimes I get to destroy pumpkins.

Next up I worked on my core being and self-esteem, — I have accepted that I, Mike the Tiger, am the best Tiger. I embrace my Tigerness. I love being Mike the Tiger and I love that you love me. I will never try to be anything I am not.

Y’all, I see some of these other mascots out there living life in a rush, all hopped up on non-organic food or something — like, Tony, I am straight up WORRIED about you, did they HUMAN CENTIPEDE you together with an eel? You look like an extra from The Shape of Water, dude. I don’t see how anyone from Oxford is able to care for you, seeing as they’re basically imagining animals that don’t exist anywhere.

You make Aubie look sort of normal and that’s saying something because that’s one SAD sort of Tiger. Even the Auburn folks stopped short of splicing together an Eagle and a Kitten to make their mascot.

They are laughing AT you, not with you, Sardine Man.

And it’s going to take an armored vehicle and a damn security detail to protect you from the LSU fans come September. They will SEASON and BLACKEN you. Lesson Two, subpart B, is don’t be seafood in Baton Rouge, because my folks will straight up put you on a damn loaf of bread and call you dinner.

They might as well have made the new Ole Miss mascot ceviche.

Sounds delicious.

In my year as Your Tiger, I have also learned to reach for the stars, which are just outside my home, beyond Will Wade’s PMAC (we don’t call it a gym, he gets all shouty). And, so, I will be petitioning the University to allow me to attend classes, as Reveille does at the Aggie University. (Perhaps she is studying what an Aggie is. I know they can’t teach her anything about winning.)

It seems unfair that my education should be kept from me, when I know for a fact that many, many LSU students would like to have me in their classes. And while I likely would be a bit of a distraction at first, in exchange for broadening my mind through rigorous study, I promise to eat only two (2) students a week. Please see the attached recommendation from a Vet Student I cornered yesterday.

And while Sweet Reveille has but one handler, I would need a few more to make my academic dreams a reality. I would like for my security detail to be made up of one Vet student, so all of my health needs are attended to, a Law Student to keep me out of jail, a Mass Communication student to explain what the Law Student meant and a Psychology student because this is gonna mess with some folks’ minds.

Working together, by the end of Year Two, I will have earned enough credits – either through academic achievement or brute force – to be Dr. Mike the Tiger, Vice Chancellor for Sophomore Tiger Experience and Astronomy.

Yours in Pawfection,

Mike