Alex Collins
You think being a mascot’s just waving to kids and sweating through polyester? Think again. I sat down with Alex Collins—better known as Clark the Cub—and learned that what he does is equal parts art, athleticism, and heart. He’s been the Cubs’ one and only mascot for 11 years now, long enough that a whole generation of fans has never known Wrigley without him. He’s met Lady Gaga, melted in Texas, and even played a funeral. But what sticks with you isn’t the costume—it’s the connection. Somehow, in a bear suit, Alex captures what Wrigley Field is all about.
You’ve spent 11 years as the mascot for the Cubs—the one and only Clark the Cub. How cool is it to be the first?
It’s an awesome feeling. There was so much pushback when we first introduced the mascot—fans didn’t want it, or the video boards. But we slowly integrated both and modernized Wrigley Field without losing what makes it special.
Being the first ever—it’s really cool knowing that for some kids, Clark might be their Ernie Banks because they never met Ernie. I’ve watched kids grow up over 11 years. Some were toddlers, now they’re teenagers. That’s wild.
I was scared to leave the Pirates because I didn’t know if the Cubs’ mascot program would take off. But it was the right move. I don’t see myself going anywhere else. I’d love to finish my performance career with the Cubs.
People think being a mascot is just goofing off, but it takes talent. What kind of skill set does it take to do this well?
The hardest part is having a conversation without words. You’ve got to convey personality, emotion, even humor—without talking. You learn through time and experience. You put the suit on, film yourself, watch, adjust. You get better with patience and energy.
What’s it like inside the costume?
It’s hot—always. But you get used to it. I wear what players wear: moisture-wicking layers, skull caps. The goal is to stay cool enough and keep the sweat out of your eyes, because you can’t wipe it away.
You mentioned San Francisco being the perfect temperature.
Yeah, it’s ideal—cool enough that the suit feels comfortable. I remember the 2007 All-Star Game in San Francisco; we performed for an hour and it felt like 15 minutes. In Texas this year, they told us “15 minutes max” because of the heat. We rotate guys out because the handlers can tell when someone’s about to overheat.
Have you met anyone that made you starstruck?
The 2016 World Series was one. Joe Torre invited us into his suite—Lady Gaga was there. She freaked out when Joe Torre walked in!
But my personal “wow” moment was meeting Mark Grace. He was my favorite player growing up. My family are huge Cubs fans—my brother named his son Ryne after Ryne Sandberg. I’ve gotten autographs from Cubs legends for my parents and siblings. That’s been really special.
What’s the funniest or strangest fan interaction you’ve had?
I get the “no pants” joke all the time. People love to pick on that. It’s wild, because more than half the mascots in the league don’t wear pants! It just became the thing to poke fun at.
What about meaningful requests?
I once got asked to appear at a memorial celebration for a lifelong Cubs fan. She was in her 90s. Her family wanted it to feel like a party—so I just played with her great-grandkids. It was humbling. To help people through a tough moment like that—that’s the most meaningful thing I’ve ever done.
How many pictures do you think you take in a game?
Hundreds. Probably two or three hundred a game, easy. It used to be easier to work the stands, but now everyone has a phone—once one person stops you, everyone swarms. It’s part of the job, though. If you’re doing it right, people forget there’s a human inside. They just see Clark.
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More from Alex Collins
NOTE: The above was edited for clarity and length.
You can read the full transcript here.