The fearless foam-headed, flying, feathered, fantastic football fanatics of local high schools.

Heroes that brave the sweat of their predecessors, needy 9-year olds and the pressure of pumping entire stadiums up every week, to bring some cheer, some funk, and some color to the masses.

They are mascots...

Most people know the famous mascots, the San Diego Chicken, S.J. Sharkie, Mickey Mouse, but here in Sunnyvale and Cupertino, a number of high school students play roles just as important as they become the living, breathing, animal-suit wearing representations of their schools' spirit.

At Cupertino High School, a program of deception, secrecy and diligence allows the student behind the Dusty the Pioneer mask to operate in complete anonymity, like Batman would in Gotham City.

At Fremont High School, Philip the Firebird regularly removes his bird head to perform for football crowds and just may be the only Phoenix in history to wear cross-trainer shoes.

And fittingly, the Homestead High School mascot, the embodiment of their Mustang spirit, is known simply as The Horse.

For this article each mascot will remain anonymous out of respect for their secret identities.

History of the Mascot, Pt. 1

According to one website dedicated to mascots—www.animalcrackers.com.au—mascots go back to France in the 1880s, when French composer Edmond Audran, wrote "La Mascotte," an operetta about a young farm girl who brought good luck to people. When the piece was translated into English, it became "The Mascot," and the idea of a person or creature bringing luck was born.

The word itself comes from the French slang word "mascotte," which came from "masco," meaning witch. And while Dusty, Dolly, The Horse and Philip the Firebird don't have mystical powers, they certainly try to influence the outcome of events to help their teams win.

"A mascot is basically the symbol of the school, so if the mascot is energetic, then pretty much the whole school gets into it," The Horse said.

Northern California is home to a number of colorful, famous mascots. The UC­Santa Cruz' mascot, the Banana Slug, is often included on "Top Ten" mascot lists, and fits perfectly among the redwoods and coastal overlooks of the hilltop school.

But the yellow mollusk has not always been the symbol of the school. According to the school's website, student athletes chose the sea lion as their mascot in 1980 to encourage participation in intramural sports. Many students still wanted the slug to be their symbol, and until 1986, the school cheered for two mascots at events. In 1986, the chancellor officially made the banana slug the school's animal.

Further north along the peninsula sits one of the most abused mascots in recent memory, the Stanford University Marching Band's Tree, which is actually only the symbol of the band, not the school as a whole.

In 1891, a newspaper headline about Stanford beating their rival UC­Berkeley in the first "Big Game," which read "Cardinal Triumphs O'er Blue and Gold." In 1930, the school adopted the "Indians," as their official nickname, and that lasted until 1972, when Native American students met with the school president because they felt the name was insulting to their culture and heritage.

For several years, the school tried to find a name, almost adopting the Griffin—a mythological beast with the body and hind legs of a lion and the head, wings and front limbs of an eagle—in 1978.

Throughout the searches, and until 1981, Stanford used "Cardinals," as their nickname, referring to the color of their school, not the red bird. Today, Stanford is simply "The Cardinal."

But the tree—which represents El Palo Alto, the redwood tree that symbolizes the city of Palo Alto—often appears at sporting events and has been unofficially adopted as the school's mascot.

Because of this attention, San Jose State University students have tackled The Tree at football games, and the costume itself has been kidnapped and mulched by Cal students.

But for local mascots, the biggest enemy is the suits they wear.

"The worst part is probably the heat, because you can't take off the costume at all during rallies, and you have to jump around in it, and every other person has been inside it and sweated in it," The Horse said.

Sweat—which isn't a problem for athletes or fans who can wipe it from their foreheads and eyes—can be a major problem for someone in a foam head with four-fingered gloves on.

"You should have seen me at one game, my hair was soaked, my clothes were soaked," Dusty said. "Sometimes in the suit, sweat will get into your eyes, and you can't wipe it, so you're frowning in the mask, but the outside is still smiling."

But not all local mascots get off with just a smelly costume. Monte Vista High School hasn't had a mascot at their games this year because sometime this summer, the head of their bull disappeared.

Monte Vista Assistant Principal Bryan Emmert said the school is currently trying to get a new costume for their mascot so the Bull can run through the Matadors' games again.

And for Philip the Firebird, Fremont's high-flying symbol, a thick coat of synthetic down and feathers is just what chilly football games call for.

"The suit itches of course, but it keeps me warm when other people are cold out there," Philip said, picking lint out of his red plumage.

Pump it up

Whether the mascot is S.J. Sharkie getting hockey fans ready for playoff season, Mickey Mouse peddling products or a French peasant girl bringing good luck, mascots are there to pump people up and get them excited, and local creatures are no exception.

"It's really fun, because you pump up the school, you help with the school spirit, and everyone likes seeing you," The Horse said.

In addition to encouraging those fans already on their feet, the mascot is also tasked with getting unexcited people excited, and making sitting fans jump.

"There are always people who are just apathetic about it, and you work on them for a little, but you can't just focus all your attention on people who won't give you any results," The Horse said.

Dusty—who enjoys performing even when outside the costume—said that a mascot has to do whatever it takes to get people excited, even if it means personal sacrifice.

"It's entertainment in its truest form, because mascots keep the kids who want to have fun entertained and the kids who want to cuss us out entertained," Dusty said, with Dolly in agreement. "There's pretty much something for everyone. If people want to cuss us out, if that entertains them, then they're entertained."

But for the most part, mascots get positive attention, even if it is a little excessive at times.

For Dusty, the biggest fan is the young daughter of one of the drill coaches, who follows him everywhere he goes at games.

"She follows me all around through the bleachers, tells me to play 'Simon Says' with her, tell me to play 'Patty-cake' with her," Dusty said. "Everyone's a Dusty groupie."

But sometimes the adoration is a bit more forceful.

"The only groupies I get are the really spirited people at school, and the football players, and they all like to hit the head of the suit," The Horse said.

Behind the mask...

For Cupertino High School's mascot Dusty and his on-again, off-again girlfriend Dolly, half the fun of the job is keeping their secret identities hidden.

"That's the whole mystery of it. I go to a lot of Sharks games, and I see S.J. Sharkie all the time, but I don't know who he is," cheer coach Tracy Skrzypek said.

While Dusty is at most school events, Dolly only shows up to a select few. Dusty—a regular at rallies and football games—endlessly wanders through the stands, rejecting people who ask for his real name, shaking hands with adoring fans and making sure his giant red hat doesn't block the view of the people behind him.

"It's fun going around and playing because you get to be everyone's friend," Dusty said. "It's great seeing everyone's reactions to the whole thing, you can walk around and sit with people. Some of them get scared, some of them get excited."

Only a select few people know Dusty's real identity, and even fewer know who Dolly is. One of those is first-year coach Skrzypek, who selected the man behind Dusty's mask with the help of her cheerleading captains.

At the beginning of the year, a number of names were brought up, and the group ended up going with the first on the list. After secretive meetings—in which Dusty wore ghost masks from the movie Scream when he entered the meeting place—the giant head was placed firmly on ready shoulders, and the phenomenon that is Dusty the Pioneer was off.

"He's really good in the suit, the second he's in, he's off in the stands," Skrzypek said. "It's like when the mask is on, all inhibitions are gone."

Dolly was picked in the same way, and has a similar background—which is why she and Dusty are such a cute couple—but in a very different costume. For starters, Dolly's head is a Hillary Clinton mask.

"It's no problem to wear dress-wise, but the mask is really small, so it's even hotter," Dolly said. "And the suit is more revealing, it really shows my figure."

Dusty, who has a background in acting and sports, said being the mascot is easier than other types of performing because of the anonymity. The other mascots said the same.

"It's actually fun, because no one know its me, its kind of a fun feeling," Homestead's Horse said. "It makes you feel like James Bond or Mission: Impossible."

Even for Philip the Firebird—who does take his head off to reveal the person underneath—being able to put on another face takes a lot of pressure off for performances.

"A lot of people don't know it's me, so I can do anything in this suit and no one would know it was me," Philip said.

If no one knows who he is inside, no one can laugh at him for goofing off. But just as no one can criticize him for anything he does, all praise has to be left out too.

"That hardest thing for me is that I can't acknowledge [Dusty] on campus. Even if he's done a great job, I can't tell anybody," Skrzypek said.

Staying anonymous is not always easy. Skrzypek has to meet with the performer as far away from school as possible, to lessen the chance anyone from Cupertino will see them. Even when out of costume on his way to meetings, Dusty said he wears masks—like those in the movie "Scream"—to protect his identity.

"Someone called my name once, and I started to turn to look, but I caught myself and just turned in a full circle and made it look like some sort of move I was doing," Dusty said laughing. "Even my girlfriend has no idea."

At Fremont, a number of students know the man behind the beak, and Philip said he likes it that way because his friends can joke about it with him.

"People still get excited if they know who it is," the firebird said. "I don't think it should be such a secret."

But for many mascots, from Cupertino High School to the National Hockey League, keeping the person behind the mask secret is part of the fun and helps bring the Superman out of each anonymous Clark Kent.

"It would be more fun if I could fly though," Dusty lamented.