When I ran the above picture from Peter Dutton earlier today as part of a series of photos from 1989-1992, I did not expect to receive the following email a few hours later.
Internet, you amaze me.
Dear Mr. Solomon,
I can explain the gorilla costume at the 1989 NCAA Tournament game vs. Georgetown. I was wearing it.
I am a member of the Princeton class of 1989 and was the Drum Major of the marching band (although my term had ended by the time the Tournament rolled around). For four years, Bob Scrabis' mother sat near the band for every home game and she and I had what I would call, for lack of a better term, a friendly cheering acquaintance. We both admired her son's basketball prowess. [In fact, I modeled my beer pong form on his free throw shooting form. I always glanced to the left just before releasing the ball.]
I owned the gorilla suit (bought for use in a skit that was a takeoff of 2001:A Space Odyssey that the band performed at the Yale football game the previous fall). My winter coat was stolen that fall at a party on Prospect St. and so, for no other reason than I was somewhat cold, I decided to wear my gorilla suit to the first basketball game of the year. As a gag, I took a bunch of bananas with me and handed them out. The first one, went to Mrs. Scrabis, who laughed out loud. We won the game, and the suit got a good reaction. So, for every home game that year (and several away ones as well), I wore my gorilla suit and presented Mrs. Scrabis with a banana for good luck.
I had a great seat for the game against Georgetown: Section A, Row 1, Seat 1, if I recall correctly. I gave the ticket stub later to a bandmember who had been too sick to attend the game. I managed to get into the arena and locate Mrs. Scrabis (who was NOT near the band for that game). I gave her a banana and got a big hug before arena security accosted me and made me take off the suit. It seems there was a NCAA regulation against a school having more than one mascot at a Tournament game. I pleaded my case to no avail. The suit came off and the rest is history.
Best wishes, Eliza Kunkel '89
