It’s just past sunset in the subterranean depths of Climate Pledge Arena, which in the world of trolls is akin to high noon.
Nighttime is when Buoy, the Kraken’s new mascot, comes out to play. And play is the operative word; no matter how many times the Kraken’s marketing folks keep reminding you Buoy is indeed an actual sea troll living 50 feet below street level in an arena’s basement.
His critics contend — especially on social media — that, for a troll, Buoy in his first month with the Kraken has seemed rather genteel.
Sure, his stone-carved troll uncle, living under a bridge in Fremont, may have commandeered a car with California license plates and held it hostage the past 30-plus years. But unlike Gritty, the slightly unhinged looking and ill-tempered Philadelphia Flyers mascot, Buoy isn’t about to partake in anything that could get him arrested.
And it was a more family-friendly version of a troll that emerged Thursday at about 6:15 p.m. for a venture through Climate Pledge that lasted 3 ½ hours until the Kraken’s game against the Vancouver Canucks was over.
***
The high-fiving began with a handful of arena security staff and ushers, all calling out Buoy’s name in smiled greetings, on his walk through a long arena corridor, past the Kraken dressing room and toward the arena’s lower bowl.
There would be hundreds more hand slaps, until Buoy’s arm undoubtedly was ready to pop out the same way his oversized front tooth can be removed on command. Also, seemingly more selfies than the arena had patrons. And plenty of dancing on any arena platform, side wall or seat back where Buoy could cram his rather large feet.
Still, amid the festiveness as the Kraken played the rival Canucks, there were occasions Buoy let some of his troll emerge — particularly with fans wearing opponent colors.
“Hey, it’s Buoy!” some young children screamed as the mascot popped his head out from an ice-level tunnel before pregame warmups.
One of them, Maddux Haspe, 7, clutched a sign with a hand-drawn picture of Buoy. The mascot wandered over to where the wide-eyed Haspe and a cluster of fans were pressed up near the rink side glass.
Buoy high-fived Haspe, then danced with a little girl. Within seconds, pandemonium erupted around the section, with adult fans lined up along a steep staircase awaiting their turn to pose with the mascot.
He pretended to walk away with one woman’s phone, spinning in all directions taking selfies of himself. Then he grabbed another fan’s box of candy and pretended to eat it.
Finally, Buoy spotted a young adolescent approaching with his smartphone, wearing a Canucks jersey. Buoy offered a friendly, arms-wide-open greeting, then deftly plucked the youth’s black tuque from his head and tossed it two seat rows behind him.
This is the Buoy some of his harshest online antagonists want to see more of. Though, it should be noted, Buoy quickly began playfully wrestling with the smiling youth, who didn’t seem upset even when forced to retrieve the hat.
***
Some Kraken fans, particularly those using the website Reddit, have not been kind in their Buoy assessments. One post that drew ample engagement suggested in rather colorful language that Gritty would mop the ice with Buoy in a fistfight.
Still, though adult fans — even a handful on Reddit — are paying the team’s ticket freight, no one designs mascots bent on the type of violence that might frighten children. Buoy has taken to more actual “trolling” on his online social-media platforms, encouraged by the team to be edgy.
Earlier Thursday, he’d posted to his 10,000 Twitter followers about the Canucks’ mascot, an orca whale named Fin.
“I know a whale joke, it’s a real killer,” Buoy tweeted. “@CanucksFin surviving TheDeep 2nite.”
These are the types of jabs the Kraken would prefer Buoy to land, rather than convincing folks he could take down Fin or Gritty with actual punches. Nor would anyone see Buoy venturing over toward the Canucks bench on this night, despite early on-ice fights between players.
Buoy won’t be antagonizing opposing teams the way Harvey the Hound did for the Calgary Flames starting in the 1980s. Harvey got under the skin of the rival Edmonton Oilers so much that Oilers coach Craig MacTavish in 2003 famously yanked the mascot’s oversized tongue out.
The Kraken don’t see it as Buoy’s place to taunt opponents, or their fans, too aggressively. At least not yet. After all, the Kraken haven’t accomplished enough on the ice.
But he’s not above pressing the elevator alarm button whenever he rides in one. Buoy also intentionally slaps on enough distinctive cologne — Sauvage by Dior — to let people know he’s there.
For now it’s about building an identity. And Buoy has gained some in a short time.
***
His early pregame greetings done, Buoy returned through the hallway to his arena “home” — or dressing room — to retrieve a motorized hoverboard scooter and a large boombox.
He zoomed off toward the elevator and rode up to the main concourse. Upon his exit, fans everywhere shouted “Hey, Buoy!” and kept mobbing him for selfies until he could progress only a few feet at a time.
One of the main jobs of Hailey Robinson, a Kraken event staff employee who accompanies Buoy everywhere, is to pry him away to make scheduled arena stops. On this night that included dancing with the team’s Red Alert marching band just inside the arena’s glass entrance doors.
Some of the band members paused from playing their horns to shout, “Way to go, Buoy!” as he busted moves. A young girl who appeared to be around 5 years old approached mid-dance for an autograph and squealed as Buoy took the paper from her hand and scribbled.
As she walked away with her parents to a nearby escalator, she hopped with delight and stared at the paper.
And so it continued, with Buoy patrolling the pregame corridors on his scooter, holding the boombox blasting, “Wannabe” by Spice Girls and Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock.”
Despite his popularity, not everyone is aware of Buoy.
“What is that thing?” one woman asked the man accompanying her.
“It’s supposed to be a troll thing,” he replied.
***
Soon, it was back down the elevator so Buoy and Robinson could retrieve his drum. Then, as national anthems played, they made their way up to the Space Needle lounge. As the Star Spangled Banner tailed off, Buoy hopped up on a side wall in the arena’s highest seating section and began a series of five successive drum beats, followed by the crowd chanting “Let’s go Kraken!” each time.
Buoy hung around the lounge as the puck dropped, posing for selfies with eager fans. He stayed near “The Deck” — a platform in the higher sections used to introduce celebrity VIPs and the night’s house band to the crowd. There, Buoy played his drum alongside the band King Youngblood during a first-period TV timeout.
Then it was back down to the lower levels. Some adult fans, particularly those apparently consuming beer, grew more boisterous as Buoy approached. Most merely wanted photos, but a handful, particularly those in Canucks garb, gave him one-fingered salutes.
“Worst mascot ever,” one grumbled aloud.
“You look like my ex-girlfriend!” another shouted.
Buoy took it in stride. Though he did pull a baseball cap off one wearing Canucks gear, tossed it behind his row of seats and then kicked it farther down the concourse floor. The fan, once Buoy walked away, eventually had to exit the section and retrieve the cap.
***
Buoy headed down by elevator to the event level so he could be ready to referee a first-intermission, on-ice tug of war. He was walking through the hallway past the dressing rooms when the goal horn sounded, signaling the Kraken had scored. Buoy took off in a sprint, turned a corner and raced to the stands to join fans in celebration.
Afterward, he stopped by the players’ family lounge to visit with Kraken forward Yanni Gourde’s wife and young daughter.
It was much the same routine throughout the second period; more mingling and struggling to appease selfie-seeking fans. One stop was to a group that had put in a $250 order for an organized seat visit — one of two such stops by Buoy that night — with proceeds going to the team’s One Roof Foundation charity wing.
“We try to get to those whenever we can,” Robinson said.
At period’s end, Buoy headed back to the ice to serve as a goalie preselected fans would try to score on. Then he raced out toward the elevators, past high-fiving janitorial staffers who lowered mops and called out smiled greetings, back up to the American Express Club level.
There, standing next to the arena’s organist, Buoy led the “Hoist the Colors” rallying cry event, waving a large Kraken flag.
“We love you Buoy!” two women seated nearby called out.
And some Kraken fans, it seems, truly do, even if Buoy is nobody’s idea of a tough guy. For now, the Kraken seem prepared to tolerate early online barbs if the majority of fans young and older — even hatless ones in Canucks gear — come away from their Buoy encounters with a smile.
And a little extra cologne on their clothes.