The other day, the bulldog mascot cruised around Georgetown University in a golf cart, as he often does, riding shotgun with the Jesuit priest who takes care of him, getting out to see his people. Students called his name. "Jack, Jack!"
Most schools like their mascots. But even before the men's basketball team made it to the Final Four, Georgetown's love for Jack had risen to another level.
"He is like a demigod on campus," junior Chris Seneca said.
Jack is in such constant demand for appearances and photo opportunities that he has an e-mail address and people to handle the requests. When he stumps around campus, students swarm him. There is an application process for the privilege of walking him -- which includes proving an ability to sing the Hoyas' fight song and a willingness to yank from his mouth whatever he should not be eating.
And there's a waiting list.
Maybe it's because he's a real dog. (The school also has a human in a furry dog suit.) And he lives on campus with everyone else. Maybe it's his marked personality: Jack has an imperious manner, a sense of entitlement and a stubborn streak. He's so ugly, with a squashed face and an awkward, snuffling gait, that he often makes people laugh.
And he's never happier, the Rev. Christopher Steck said, than when he's in the thick of the excitement on the basketball court.
A lot has been said about family legacies on the Hoyas team, which plays Ohio State tomorrow in Atlanta. Jack is one more celebrity with a proud Georgetown lineage: A forefather paced the sidelines during Patrick Ewing and John Thompson Jr.'s day. Now, as Ewing and Thompson's sons arrive for games, Jack swaggers into the arena with them.
Why wouldn't he?
"Everyone loves Jack," said Walid Khaliseh, 20, a student from Jordan who walks him. Take him to a game-viewing party, and everyone stops watching to play with Jack, he said. Take him to a concert, and everyone stops listening to the singers.
Jack expects the attention.
Around campus, students often run up to pet him. "People are saying, 'Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack!' " said Seneca, who has been walking him for a few years now. "He keeps walking, doesn't even acknowledge it."
That's just how it is when you're Jack.
And the name Jack, by the way, came from a stubborn predecessor who refused to answer to anything but Jack.
He lives with Steck on the fourth floor of a freshman hall. Students scratch his wrinkles. Their dorm T-shirts gloat, "You don't know Jack."
‘He does not dress up’
Those who do have this to say: He does not like to be cuddled. "He's not down for that," Seneca said. And don't even ask whether he wears uh, little outfits for games. "Oh no way," Seneca said. "He does not dress up. He's too regal for that."
If he doesn't want to go somewhere, his 54 pounds can feel like an immoveable weight, students said. "He's got this prima donna thing," Seneca said. "That's what happens when you spend you whole life listening to people say they love you."
Jack loves going to games. He came to Georgetown as a 12-week-old puppy in 2003, so he's right at home around huge crowds, booming drums and sudden buzzers. Besides, people drop peanuts and popcorn on the floor, Steck said, and Jack eats like a goat.
At the arena, he seems to soak in the energy from the crowd. He runs onto the court behind the flag and tears up a box decorated with the opponent's logo, snorting and sending bits of cardboard flying.
At halftime, he wanders through the concourse, greeting fans and accepting requests for photographs.
Not long ago, Steck took a short sabbatical from teaching at Georgetown. He moved to a cabin in Wisconsin for five weeks and brought Jack with him.
Steck loved the quiet, the serenity, the solitude.
Jack hated it.
When he started loading the car to leave, Steck said, Jack ran to the car and sat there, quivering. Steck opened the car door and Jack hopped inside and refused to move from the seat for more than an hour while Steck finished packing.
It was clear, Steck said, what he was thinking: " 'Don't leave me here in this hellhole.' "
Dropping in on viewing parties
Steck thought about taking him to Atlanta this weekend for the Final Four, but it's such a long trip. So Jack will make the rounds on campus tomorrow, dropping in on viewing parties here and there, making his appearances, feeling the love.
If the Hoyas win, Khaliseh said, it's going to be crazy; last weekend students mobbed blocks of Georgetown to celebrate after the games. This time, he said, Jack is coming with them: On the golf cart. Straight to M Street.
