Jayme Minor loves to rev up the crowd at Scotiabank Saddledome in Calgary.Bret Kenworthy/Calgary Flames
Jayme Minor of Calgary says he loved to sing, dance and entertain as a child. By grade 10, he was bringing his trumpet to high school football games. “All the kids I thought were going to make fun of me for being in band were like, ‘this guy’s so cool’.”
In 2004, when he was 19, the Calgary Flames made it to the Stanley Cup Finals. Minor’s father suggested he bring his trumpet to a game. “Everybody went crazy for it.” Since then, Minor has played from the stands at Flames games, often wearing a wizard costume. Fans know him as the Wizard Guy or the Trumpet Guy. Minor gets the crowd going when he blasts a few bars. “I could do this for the rest of my life.”
Many of Canada’s sports teams have official mascots, like the Toronto Raptors’ red velociraptor, Youppi! of the Montreal Canadiens (and the old Montreal Expos), the Toronto Blue Jays’ Ace, Hunter the Lynx of the Edmonton Oilers and Mick E. Moose of the Winnipeg Jets. They hype up players and audiences.
That’s also the goal of unofficial mascots like Minor. These superfans go the extra mile to support their team. Fans know them from their outlandish costumes or antics in leading cheers.
Luc Martin, a professor who studies the psychology of sports at the School of Kinesiology and Health Studies at Queen’s University, suggests that the exuberance of unofficial mascots might help with a competitive edge. Teams can feel that “we are such a special group that someone will go to this extreme to support us,” he says.
Why do some fans keep going with this role? They start to feel appreciation and acceptance, says Martin, creating a positive feedback loop. Minor describes his experiences like going to a party where he’s the centre of attention. “I love the fans, they love me.”
Some unofficial mascots evolve over time while others burst onto the scene, the fan equivalent of rookie phenoms. Such was the case with the Vancouver Canucks’ Green Men. That’s the alter ego of two college buddies, Adam Forsyth and Ryan Sullivan.
The Green Men, Adam Forsyth (left) and Ryan Sullivan (right), flanking Adam’s wife Kelsey, made their return to Rogers Arena for a Canucks game in Feb. 2024.Adam Forsyth
In 2009, they ordered bright-green, full-body spandex suits, intending to prank their friends at an NFL game in Seattle. When those plans fell through, the pair of die-hard hockey fans wore the suits to a Canucks game. “It was supposed to be a one-time thing, and it just completely took off,” Forsyth says.
At games, lineups of 100 to 200 people would form, wanting photographs and autographs. “It was really cool to be this cryptic superhero who nobody knew,” he says.
Initially, even the Canucks didn’t know what to expect. The Green Men taunted players from opposing teams who found themselves in the penalty box, doing handstands and holding up props. “Our goal was to disrupt the other team as much as possible and help the Canucks,” says Forsyth.
They made such an impact that ESPN inducted them into their inaugural Hall of Fans. But at times, the Green Men’s escapades (touching the penalty box and displaying certain signs) landed them in hot water with the NHL. “If you’re a mascot, you have to follow the rules. When you’re unofficial, you try to get away with more stuff,” says Forsyth.
After an eight-year retirement, the Green Men returned for two Canucks games last season. One was in the regular season, and the other was in the playoffs. Forsyth, now married with a daughter, wanted his wife to see the Green Men in action, and wanted his daughter to have a photo of her dad in a green suit.
The Canucks happened to win each of the games, both by one goal. “I’d like to think we were their good luck charm,” says Forsyth.
For Minor, his frequent appearances led to fans of his own. That support turned out to be welcome when he ran into personal challenges with alcohol and drug abuse. He took time off to focus on his health and recovery. After rehab, Minor took a year-long hiatus before making a triumphant return to a Flames game with his friends. When he played the trumpet there, fans noticed he was back and commented that he looked well and happy. After Minor told them he was now sober, “They were all hugging me, and they’re like, ‘We’re so proud of you, this is so amazing’,” Minor says.
The Flames reached out to Minor, asking how they could keep working together. Today, he has a VIP pass for the hockey games. He also speaks at events about addiction, bringing along his trusty instrument. “You never know when you’re going to have to bust out the trumpet.”
