The concept of a "Mascot unmasking playlist" refers to a curated list of songs that are typically played during the moment when a sports team's mascot removes their costume head or mask, revealing their identity to the audience. This act is often considered as a form of exciting fan entertainment during halftime shows or at the end of games. The playlist selection for a mascot unmasking ceremony is crucial for creating an atmosphere of surprise, energy, and celebration. The songs should be catchy, upbeat, and able to elicit a reaction from the crowd. It is common to include popular songs that are widely recognized and enjoyed by a broad range of fans. The playlist should ideally start with an introductory song that builds anticipation and sets the stage for the big reveal.

How I came last in the Mascot Race

A joke in the Middlesex press box became a surreal experience on Finals Day for NICK FRIEND, who ran - particularly poorly - as Pinky the Panther. Headbutted by an eagle, humiliated by a giraffe and carrying a concussion, he survived to tell the tale

Well, everybody hurts sometimes / Everybody cries / Everybody hurts, sometimes – R.E.M. (1992) My legs: they hurt. My feet: they hurt. My head: it hurts. Everything hurts. My eyes: they are still stinging with the sweat of this godforsaken outfit's prior volunteers, leaking out of the sides of the hardhat shoehorned into the upper skull. My dignity: it hurts. The particular moment where the perspiration had become so all-consuming that I – in the guise of Pinky the Panther – could no longer access the friction required to navigate some quite basic inflatables haunts my dreams: real death-of-Mufasa vibes, slipping to some of the most agonising humiliation imaginable as a giraffe, only seconds earlier coiled in a motionless heap, bombed past in the battle to avoid the Mascot Race wooden spoon and, in the T20 Blast's 20th year, infamy. But I'll take infamy. In the words of Lao Tzu, the ancient philosopher: "To lead people, walk behind them." That much was no trouble at all. At one point, one of the guides even felt it necessary to suggest I "run forwards". I was not, it is safe to say, a raging success. We are mid-heatwave, and I am writing while under the influence of paracetamol and freeze spray. I have a self-diagnosed side strain and an ego bruised beyond repair. The water bottle tied to my chest, with a tube through to my face, burst when I fell for the finish line. On the long walk back to Edgbaston's indoor school – a cruel, endless parade of wounded exhaustion – one supporter requested a photograph with Middlesex's only Finals Day involvement since Tyron Henderson; another eagle-eyed spectator queued up merely to point out that I'd come "dead last". He dealt in facts rather than sympathy, but he was not wrong. For an hour, I had wilted like an unloved flower, melted like chocolate in a warm pocket, leaked like a faulty tap. It was, one assumes, like running into a volcano wrapped in a duvet. Without irony – at the hottest point on one of the hottest days – I can safely call this, in a costume not designed for track-and-field, the hardest piece of physical exertion of my life. All for this, to be able to call myself a veteran of the Mascot Race. I consider myself at times to be a self-respecting, semi-serious journalist, but I am also – above all else – a child of the Blast and the slapstick absurdity that comes with breaking briefly from English cricket's domestic showpiece to allow 24 fur-coated adults their 10 minutes' carnage. Before last year's Finals Day, I wrote my then-magnum opus, where a collection of former racers laid bare the boiling truths of cricket's annual tie-up with Takeshi's Castle. One lap around Edgbaston: once through the ball-pit, once under the cargo netting, once around the inflatable ball, once through the giant stumps, once over the bat. And the majority said this: be careful what you wish for.

"I hold a crushing fear for performing in front of large audiences, and there is perhaps nothing on this planet that could scare me more than being unmasked in front of 22,000 people in the process of re-tearing a troublesome hamstring"

"And then a sprint to the finish," came an optimistic pre-race directive, delivered with a Welsh twang by an ECB exec in the indoor centre, repurposed on this day as a holding zone for these willing sufferers in fancy dress. This was followed by a walk to the groundsman's enclosure, where we were stowed until Lancashire had beaten Yorkshire, before the quarter-mile showdown between such giants as Yorkshire's viking, Somerset's wyvern and Worcestershire's crocodile could begin, amid unfounded rumours of a shorter course to deal with the temperature. Trashtalk – apparently a regular staple among competitors – was mostly absent, such was the sweltering heat. To clarify, I never wanted to do this, but I wanted to have done it. There is a subtle difference: a bit like skydiving, where ticking it off the bucket list is far more attractive a proposition than falling from a plane. Whether there has been a slower, sadder lap than this, though, is uncertain, so this also comes as an apology to the Middlesex faithful, whose cat did not run fast, in fact for large parts appearing only to move in spite of itself. One tweeter asserted that I'd "completely let the club down". The counter-argument, of course, is that this was a fine piece of method acting, guiding the Blast's worst team to rock-bottom. But I cannot lie, I performed worse – and more eventfully – than even my most pessimistic forecast. After only a fortnight's preparation, however, I come bearing excuses: Pinky's archaic costume needs renovating – for one, his ear didn't survive the ball-pit, the course's answer to Becher's Brook. More debilitating, though, was the head, which fell off six times and absolutely refused to remain in place. I had brought a penny farthing to a grand prix, and a cyclist who couldn't ride it. To cushion against the hardhat, I positioned a Norwich City scarf – I don't support Norwich City – at the back of my head along with a towel, borrowed from my brother. Within seconds, they had burrowed round to my brow, disabling my already restricted line of vision. Having shed all excess luggage in a quite kneejerk loss of composure, the towel spent much of the second semi-final sat by the deep midwicket fence. My plan to be last into the ball-pit to prevent ambush failed on multiple counts: the first being entry itself, a graceless attempt at a Fosbury Flop which took three or four tries to execute, the second coming in the form of one of Essex's comms department, who was dressed as an eagle and landed on my face, long-since separated by now from Pinky's head. We reunited as an ungainly struggle ensued to roll out of the pen, the GoPro footage of which is truly harrowing, featuring a panicked repetitive kick of the right leg somewhere between a footballer denoting mock-injury and a fish panicked out of water. Almost all of the race is a blur, but that memory is particularly vivid: down the Hollies Strait, clinging to the whiskers of my temporary alter ego. All I could hear was the laughter of the crowd, isolated by my brain from the other noise, and the likely correct assumption that it related to what had come before.

I hold a crushing fear for performing in front of large audiences, and there is perhaps nothing on this planet that could scare me more than being unmasked in front of 22,000 people in the process of re-tearing a troublesome hamstring. Thankfully, that particular nightmare didn't come to pass. Adrenalin, though, is a great drug – so much so that I opted to crawl through the giant stumps, essentially bouncy castle meets parthenon, an act committed for no justifiable reason on what was effectively an inflatable footpath. The subsequent wriggle under the netting was sufficiently problematic that I performed an unwitting U-turn and emerged back at the entrance, before being ushered through by a steward no doubt under orders to get this finished before nightfall. I have since learned that, by now, the race was over as a contest – Gloucestershire's gorilla victorious for the third time in five seasons. Well done, mate. Enjoy the money. I hope it makes you happy. But the battle at the other end of the field was merely hotting up: Lanky, the competition's cult figure and inaugural champion in 2004, had flown out of the traps but was by this juncture struggling and regretting his life choices. He had become entangled, creating a bottleneck of stragglers, before loosening himself but collapsing to his haunches as he passed the giant ball. I was fully aware that contestants are supposed to do a lap of the ball, but I was no longer concerned by the playing conditions, too dizzy in any case for that to make much of a difference. Instead, I lumbered past it, caught up with the giraffe and considered a gesture of sportsmanship: the chance to steal the show by finishing arm-in-arm – a Derek Redmond moment (or Nigel Desmond, as I erroneously put it to Test Match Special two hours later), if you will. I opted against that, though, seeing the chance to beat someone, anyone. even a 10-foot giraffe. Karma has its way, though. And as I abandoned him and gave my last remnants of energy to clambering over a giant bat no taller than an office chair, he re-emerged, second-winded, and leapt over at the first attempt in a snippet captured by Sky Sports that summed up the whole struggle in a single, humiliating frame. I remained: a picture of forlorn confusion, fighting against my own sweat. That was a fitting farce on which to conclude, given this all began with a joke in the Lord's press box – a 'wouldn't it be funny if I did this?' moment that became a text message from Middlesex's man in charge of such matters. He agreed: it would be funny, and I should do it. Two Tuesdays ago, I was granted full access to the Lord's outfield and pavilion gym, and the wheels were set in motion. There was another practice day two afternoons out, believe it or not, this time in a local park, with costume alterations attempted but ultimately canned, including one that would have seen my father's hockey pads – unused since the 1980s – stuffed onto the collarbone to prop up Pinky's head. This almost choked me, so the idea was scrapped. So, too, was the thought to tie a cycling helmet to the hardhat. All that for the sake of five surreal minutes. To flip a famous proverb, don't cry because it happened; smile because it's over. Pinky is back in his holdall until next summer, minus an ear.

'The Masked Singer': Hydra Gets Beheaded in Week 5 Unmasking -- See Which Iconic Duo Was Inside the Costume!

The playlist should ideally start with an introductory song that builds anticipation and sets the stage for the big reveal. This song should create a sense of excitement and prepare the audience for the upcoming unmasking. Upbeat tracks with strong beats and engaging lyrics are often used for this purpose.

Check out which legendary entertainers were inside the three-headed costume!

*Caution: Spoilers Ahead!

Last week's surviving contestants returned to the stage on Wednesday's The Masked Singer , and after all four costumed characters delivered their memorable performances, fans had to bid farewell to yet another one of them.

Hydra, Ringmaster, Armadillo and Teddy took to the stage to belt their hearts out. After all four sang, fans voted and the bottom two vote-earners had to go head-to-head into another vocal showdown.

Despite Armadillo's lively performance of "I Fought the Law" by The Bobby Fuller Four and Hydra's fun cover of "Sharp Dressed Man" by ZZ Top, they ended up facing off in a music showdown, and Hydra ended up getting the axe.

Before unmasking, the show's panel of celebrity "detectives" -- including Robin Thicke, Nicole Scherzinger, Ken Jeong and Jenny McCarthy, as well as guest panelist Nicole Byer -- made their final guesses.

While all of the judges correctly predicted that the Hydra was actually a duo and not a trio, despite the three heads, only Byer managed to correctly put the clues together.

After figuring out how to unmask, the duo revealed themselves to be none other than magicians Penn & Teller!

ET spoke with Penn about his time with Teller on the show, and the celebrated magician and TV personality reflected on how the costume itself was a bit of magical misdirection to keep their identity hidden.

"If you look up duos in showbusiness, we pop up first on Google. We knew if we were two people we would be busted very very quickly, and we knew we couldn't get into a costume for one person, so three was a really good solution," Penn shared.

He also said the bulk of the work when it came to trying to keep the panel on their toes came from Teller, who changed his voice to sing with two different voices.

"We knew that my voice is so damaged from being carney trash that I don't have a choice. I can sound like this and no other way," Penn said. "So our real star was Teller. Because they didn't know Teller's voice and he did two voices. and I thought he was the absolute star of the whole show."

Over all, Penn said the experience of being on the show was truly wonderful, and he expressed his appreciation for what the show represents.

"I have been on many shows, many, many shows, that I'm not fond of, not particularly proud of, but this is a really kind show," he shared. "We've come to be a culture, in our entertainment, that really seems to enjoy cruelty. And I don't think that's healthy and I don't find it enjoyable."

"But this show is just a celebration of life, a celebration of show business, and everybody who works on this show is so full of joy. it's just fabulous," he added. "This show is our culture at its best, and we've seen plenty of our culture at its worst."

While the Armadillo is clearly on thin ice, the only contestant from this group that really seems destined to make it to the finals is Ringmaster, who wowed the judges with a performance of Nicki Minaj's "Super Bass."

Meanwhile, Teddy closed out the first round of the night's competition with an unexpectedly gritty rendition of "Tell Me You Love Me" by Demi Lovato.

The Masked Singer airs Wednesdays at 8 p.m. ET/PT on Fox.

Check out the gallery below for a look at every single contestant who has ever had to "take it off" throughout the history of the show!

Brian Ellison: Unmasking Masculinity in Black Men

In addition to graduating with a master's degree in fine arts from the University of Houston this spring, Brian Ellison is a photographer, cinematographer, conceptual visual artist, nonprofit founder and education manager at Project Row Houses, a nonprofit organization in Third Ward that enriches lives through art. Yet, Ellison’s many qualifications don’t fully encapsulate his talent, impact and artistry. His art and words paint a better picture.

“Art saved my life. I was in a very, very dark place,” Ellison said.

Ellison credits unMASKulinity, a documentary he directed that questions and explores what masculinity is for Black men through interviews and performances, for getting him through his depression. It not only was an expression of Ellison’s innermost thoughts and feelings, but it helped other Black men see they are not alone in their experiences and emotions.

“The ability to create an external piece based on what I’m feeling internally is the most relieving thing I’ve ever done,” he said.

Ellison’s artistic work was born in Houston’s Third Ward and has since flourished. But before fully grasping his artistic motivation, you need to take a step back to his childhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Both of his parents were incarcerated. He is the eldest of eight children and was largely raised by his grandmother, in addition to an army of aunts and great aunts. “I just remember always wanting to make her proud. That's always been my driving force, even though she’s no longer with me.”

Growing up, he wanted to be a basketball or football player. While he did go on to play collegiate football, subconsciously, he said, he wanted to create art by becoming a filmmaker or actor. His first love for the arts came from famed director Spike Lee. Through his films, Ellison began to envision himself as a moviemaker.

Triumph, by Brian Ellison

Jubilee, by Brian Ellison

Triumph, by Brian Ellison

Jubilee, by Brian Ellison

In one of his most recent exhibitions at the MFA Thesis Exhibition at the Blaffer Art Museum during spring 2023, there is a class photo of Ellison as a child. Knowing all that he knows now, Ellison said he would tell his younger self:

"You can do whatever you want to do. You're not a mistake. You're not a burden. Believe in yourself. And don’t allow what people say you can’t do to be the thing that weighs the heaviest when there are a lot of people rooting for what you can do.”

He now uses those words to create a safe space for Black men and Black boys through his nonprofit, the Black Man Project. The organization provides group therapy sessions every other week for Black men in Houston to be vulnerable with one another. Starting in 2019, Ellison, along with sculptor Anthony Suber and anthropologist Marlon Hall, began traveling to major cities like New York, Atlanta and Los Angeles to host dinner conversations that provided healing sessions for the men in attendance. The group stopped traveling in 2020 due to the pandemic, the same year Ellison began his studies at UH.

He chose UH because he already had a community at the University and the idea of going somewhere else “didn’t sit well” with him. The fact that his MFA cohort began in the midst of the pandemic made the group a lot closer, he said.

As the mascot prepares to remove their disguise, the playlist should transition into a more dynamic and lively set of songs. These tracks should convey the celebratory nature of the moment and encourage audience participation. Songs with catchy hooks or chants are a popular choice, as they can be easily sung or clapped along to by the crowd. The final song played during the unmasking should be an anthem-like track that signifies the unveiling of the mascot's true identity. This song should be memorable, empowering, and capable of leaving a lasting impression on the audience. It should evoke a sense of unity, triumph, or fun, and reflect the spirit and values of the team or organization. The choice of songs for a mascot unmasking playlist may also depend on the specific theme or character associated with the mascot. For example, if the mascot is a lion, then songs related to courage, strength, or victory may be incorporated into the playlist. Similarly, if the mascot represents a specific city or region, songs associated with that location's culture or traditions could be included. Overall, the mascot unmasking playlist is an important element in creating an entertaining and memorable experience for sports fans. It sets the tone, generates excitement, and enhances the overall atmosphere of celebration and team spirit. Through careful song selection, the playlist can amplify the anticipation and enjoyment of the moment when the mascot's true identity is revealed to the world..

Reviews for "The Sound of Hidden Identities: Mascot Unmasking Playlist"

1. Sarah - 2/5 stars - I was really excited to listen to the "Mascot unmasking playlist" as I thought it would be a fun and entertaining mix. However, I was disappointed with the selection of songs. They all seemed to have a similar repetitive beat, and it became quite monotonous after a while. Additionally, some of the songs were very outdated and didn't resonate with my taste in music. Overall, I felt like the playlist lacked diversity and excitement.

2. Alex - 3/5 stars - I had high expectations for the "Mascot unmasking playlist" but it didn't quite hit the mark for me. While there were a few catchy songs that got me grooving, most of the tracks were unfamiliar and didn't capture my interest. I was hoping for more well-known and popular songs to keep the playlist engaging. It seemed like the curator prioritized obscure songs over creating an enjoyable listening experience. Despite my disappointment, I appreciate the effort put into compiling the playlist, but it just wasn't for me.

3. Emma - 2/5 stars - The "Mascot unmasking playlist" fell short of my expectations. The majority of the songs felt dated and didn't seem relevant to the concept of mascot unmasking. I was expecting a mix of exciting and suspenseful tracks, but instead, I found myself skipping through most of them. The playlist lacked a cohesive flow and the song choices seemed random. It's a shame, as I was really hoping for a playlist that would capture the excitement and mystery surrounding mascot unmasking, but this one missed the mark.

The Soundtrack of Unmasking: Playlist for Mascot Reveal Moments