At Williams College, a giant stuffed bear keeps getting (bear)napped by rivals
Brandon Abasolo was on stuffed animal guard duty in the fall of 2009 when he heard a knock at his dorm room door. He’d just gotten out of the shower, but decided to open the door a crack while holding a towel around his waist.
“Do you have time to answer a few quick questions for a survey?’’ said a student he didn’t recognize.
Abasolo declined, but the student was persistent. Annoyed, Abasolo tried to shut the door, but the student burst in, pushing him aside. The intruder grabbed the giant Teddy Bear on his bed and sprinted out the door.
The Bear had been kidnapped again — this time by rival runners from nearby Tufts University. To get him back, the Williams team had to pay ransom in the form of 20 pounds of sprinkles.
The Bear is part of a decades-long tradition for the Williams College cross-country team. He’s not their mascot (that’s a purple cow), but he is a good luck charm, even if he’s been tormented by many a college student. Over the years, The Bear has been dragged, thrown, cut open, beheaded, and sewn back together.
But he’s survived. And team members said that, more than trophies or medals, The Bear reminds them why they run. He reminds them they’re a part of something bigger than themselves.
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It all began in 1978, when a freshman member named Gordon Coates won a raffle at a local road race. He approached the prize table, where he sorted through gift certificates and trinkets and deliberately ignored a giant, carnival-sized sutffed bear perched on one end.
But his teammates didn’t. The upperclassmen chanted to their younger friend: “Take the bear, take the bear.’’
Coates gave in to peer pressure and ran back to the group with the bear hoisted above his head.
The Bear quickly became an integral part of the team. At his first meet, the team ceremoniously threw him into the air. They went on to upset MIT in a race soon after, and henceforth, he was deemed their good luck charm and christened, “The Bear’’ (though those who know him well call him T Bear).
Vowing to get revenge for the upset, MIT stole The Bear away at the next meet. They sent ransom notes filled with what the team’s Coach Pete Farwell called “beary’’ funny puns to the Williams team before finally returning him.
When “The Bear’’ came back home, he had a large “T’’ (for The, not Teddy) on his chest. The precedent was set. Teams could steal The Bear, but they should return him in a timely manner with a new accessory.
One of Farwell’s favorite bear stories is from “back in the day,’’ when it got snatched at a race against MIT in 1980 when a parent on bear duty got distracted watching the race.
The Bear came back sporting a red MIT beret, which it wore for 21 years before it fell off. Now, the 37-year-old bear leaks stuffing through broken stitches, but has inspired so much devotion, a section of the cross-country team’s website is devoted to him.
The Bear hours before he was stolen by Tufts.
Greg Ferland, a senior member of the team, said everything about The Bear’s life during the off-season, including what he does and where he lives, is highly classified, only letting on that he “hibernates.’’
The team members say he needs a lot of rest in the off season because of what he goes through during the year.
“He was getting torn at the seams, and when he ripped open we found old baked beans and cheese in stomach,’’ Farwell said. “We had to fumigate him. It’s pretty much a miracle bear to have survived so long.’’
Not everyone terrorizes The Bear. Farwell said that, The Bear returned from a stay with the Bates team with a photo portfolio showing adventures he’d had around campus, including meeting Jesse Jackson when he came to speak on campus and later taking a dip in the jacuzzi.
The negotiations to retrieve the good luck charm are part of what makes the saga so fun. One Williams team rented a calf from a farmer to bring to a meeting with Wesleyan runners, who had demanded a cow as ransom. (Both the cow and bear were returned to their respective owners).
Farwell said he enjoys the bear shenanigans as long as they don’t cause injury to any of his runners. He recalled with disdain one incident a few years ago where the Williams women’s team tried to steal him and a runner ended up with a sprained ankle because she was tackled.
The Bear was stolen again at a meet with Tufts in late September. The head coach of Tufts mens’ cross-country team didn’t respond for a request for comment from Boston.com about what his team will require in exchange for the bear.
“We’re going to have a meeting of the minds soon to figure out how to get him back,’’ senior runner Matt Tarduno said. “There will be some negotiations. But we’ll get him.’’
